Softly Zephyr, Oh Come Softly Chapter 8 by Maggie Finson

His bowels were threatening to loosen as he frantically told himself she had not said kill him right now. Even if his hind brain was screaming in terror he managed to keep looking at her while trying to come up the reason or reasons she had wanted. “I — I can tell you things give you information you want.”

“Can you now?” Tilting her head a fraction her gaze never left his eyes. “Tell me then and we'll see if that's worth your life. First I want to know why you did this to me.”

Stewart looked at her and let out a long sigh. “We didn't. You were this way when the pickup team brought you to the facility. All of you 'subjects, patients, changed spontaneously. Nothing we did or could have done would have triggered the types of changes you and others went through. All we really intended to do was study you, learn what happened and try to find a way to keep it from happening to others.”

“So you 'studied' us with torture?” Her anger was threatening to erupt again but was quite visibly pushed away.

“I know you probably won't believe this, but originally that was never my intention, at least.” He lowered his gaze and whispered. “But much to my shame that's exactly what the research devolved to. The project head and other higher ups started to think of you and other types of the changed ones as no more than slightly dangerous lab animals.”

“If you and your fellow torturers didn't cause this, then what changed me and the others?”

“Some time ago creatures from myth and legend started appearing all over the world. What they called a Djinn in the middle east, Something called a Kami in Japan, Faeries, creatures that no one has ever seen except in fairy tales have been cropping up everywhere.

“These appearances correlate with a new form of energy that was detected some years ago though it was in very minute quantities, was difficult to detect or even measure at first. But it's increasing, getting stronger in an exponential curve. The more of the stuff we detect, the more fantastic creatures appear.” Stewart let out another long sigh. “Hell we didn't even know what to call it for quite awhile so many researchers started calling it Magic as a joke. Seems the joke was on them because I believe that's exactly what the stuff is.”

“That's pretty hard to swallow.” Zephyr stared out a window instead of glaring directly at him for a few moments.

“Any harder than what happened to you, and the others being held at the facility?” He asked simply.

“I suppose not.” That burning gaze returned to him while she regarded him thoughtfully. “You reek of fear even terror, Stewart. But I don't smell intentional lies or see them in your expression and posture. You actually believe this.”

He nodded.

“Why did you run, bolt from the fold?”

“Mainly because I think we're making enemies, deadly enemies, of beings that humans are going to have to deal with for a long time to come.”

“That's not the only reason, is it?” She probed.

“No, I made sure that you would wake up, regain consciousness before the guards had you safely restrained, and that there were no real impediments to you getting out safely. I had no idea of just how really deadly you could be, no one did up to then. That escape terrified us all, Zephyr and I believe my former bosses suspected that I was responsible, deliberately responsible for your getting out. They planned on my having an 'accident', I'm sure.”

“You've given me a lot to think about here, Stewart.” She turned back to the window. “Do you know anything about another one like me out here?”

“I have a pretty good idea about that one.” He said faintly. “Taggert. The facility's security chief. He was acting strange, even for him, just before I slipped the leash.”

“Taggert.” She mouthed the name as if tasting it and finding that taste to be extremely unpleasant. “Tell me about him.”

It didn't even occur to Stewart to wonder how she already knew Taggert was male. “A bad one even when he was still human, if he is the one. Amoral, vicious, and wouldn't have hesitated to kill anyone he was ordered to, or if he counted them as a threat at all. He started out military, the kind of ops that no one talks about, but he was too nasty for even those branches of the military to tolerate. They retired him several years ago and put him in charge of supposedly harmless lab facility in the Rockies, high up in the mountains. I imagine you can work what that lab was without my saying it.”

Her answer was a nod. “Can you get me back to that hell hole?”

“I'll give directions if you're so intent on committing suicide.” Shaking his head he finished. “But I'm not going near that place if I can help it.”

“Can you get me there?” Her voice had a force that was hard to ignore, or deny.

“Yes.” His answer was whispered. “But I'd be dead within seconds of getting inside.”

“You will be dead if you stay here, too. If not from me, then someone else, maybe this Taggert or his underlings. He is here with a team, isn't he?”

“Yes.” He softly admitted.

“In that case, Stewart,” she gave him a thoughtful look, “Lets see if we can't do something to help your survivability.”

“H...”

She was on him before he even saw her move.

He had no real time for reaction before I had hold of him by the shoulders with my fangs buried in his neck. I made small soothing noises as his blood flowed into me. Hot, rich, red human blood. The kind that whoever or whatever made me into this creature that I was meant for me to drink. Once the flow started slowing and his heart was beginning to falter, I pulled away from his throat and gently laid him on the floor.

“Now, hush for a second or two.” I told him while he fought for life. “It will be over soon.”

He was dying but I needed him just a bit further along for what I intended to try. I cut my wrist with a fingernail then set the wound to his mouth. “Drink now. You need what I'm giving you in more than one way, Stewart. That's right, drink.”

He tried pulling away at first and I held him gently but firmly without letting my wrist leave his mouth. Drink or Die, the choice is yours now.”

His eyes watched me in a mix of horror and wonder as he slowly began to lap at the blood going into his mouth then latched onto my wrist with both hands while he truly began to drink.

“Better.” I encouraged. “It will be over soon.”

He protested when I finally pulled my wrist away, and I watched in near fascination myself as the wound healed without so much as a scar. After carefully arranging him on the dilapidated couch and covering him with a threadbare blanket I found in the tiny bedroom I seated myself in an ancient easy chair to observe him. “Sleep now. I'll watch over you until you awaken.”

He slept until just before dawn.

His latest feeding was interrupted by something he couldn't really identify. With a snarl, he killed his latest victim then tried to search for the feeling, the sense of something unusual that had interrupted him. As he left the alley, he still couldn't find that white eyed bitch. Or really get a handle on what he was feeling.

“Ahh.” He finally nodded to himself. “There is another one of us here now.”

But to his frustration, he couldn't locate that one either. Someone would slip up and betray where they were, he was sure. This new one would die, just like that damed Zephyr would. And the new one would make mistakes the bitch hadn't. Maybe that one would lead him to her in time. He could vaguely feel the link between the bitch and this new one. Eventually, one would give the other away enough for him to find them. Then the other would die, too.

“Patience.” He told himself while still fruitlessly questing for that opening. “One of them will make a mistake. Then I'll find them.”

He dismissed the vague sense of foreboding he was feeling. The bitch and the newbie together would be no match for him.

He woke with a start of terror as he remembered what had happened earlier. He was on the couch, which was pretty uncomfortable and covered with a blanket. Once he got the blanket out of the way, the first thing he did was reach for his throat. It was smooth, unblemished and not the ruin his memories told him it should be.

“Welcome back.” A familiar voice greeted him with amusement clear in it.

“Did I have a dream? A nightmare?” He asked while still touching his throat where he remembered the savaging she had given him should have still been evident.

“No.” Zephyr answered with a shrug. “The things you remember happened.”

But — you killed me.”

“More or less.” She agreed then gave him a little grin. “But are you dead now?”

“How the Hell would I know?”

“This is real, quite real, Stewart.” She answered. “I need you alive, and just don't have the luxury of time to watch over you all the time.”

“What did you do?” He questioned with fear evident in his voice and from the way he huddled back ito the couch and pulled the blanket around him.

“I turned you.” She shrugged.

“What?”

“I made you like me.”

“Nooo!” he shouted, trying to deny that possibility with every fiber of his being.

“Yes.” She told him in a curiously gentle way given what he already knew about her. “I need you alive, Stewart. I can't be with you, or watching you all the time.”

“I look nothing like you!” He shouted back. “I'm not white, my hair isn't white... Are my eyes?”

“No.” She answered seeming amused and perplexed at the same time. “You're pale, but still look human.”

“Why?” He asked. “Why did you do that to me?”

“Because I need you alive.” Was her succinct answer. “A human trying to kill you would have to be very lucky, or very good to do that now.”

“What about Taggert?” He questioned then added. “And just how can I keep up with his people? They're all trained to kill. I'm just a geek scientist.”

“Taggert is another matter.” Zephyr shrugged. “Don't confront him, don't let him catch you or you will die. As for his minions? You will find that you are stronger, faster, and a lot tougher than they are.”

“I don't know how to fight.”

“Learn.” She told him flatly. “I can and will teach you how to do that.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because you are my firstborn.” She told him. “My first child. I will do whatever is needed to teach you, keep you alive, and would kill anyone who genuinely threatens you if you can't defend yourself.”

He had no answer, or question for that one.

“For now,” She went on, “gather the things you want to keep. We're leaving this place.”