To Protect and Serve Ch. 10

"How is your shoulder?" Shamira felt incredibly callous at not having asked earlier. Renata had risked her life going into a burning building to save her and had gotten cut and burned in the process.

"It finished healing up a few days ago." Renata cut off phrases like "no big deal" or "we heal quickly." These probably weren't wise things to say to a woman in a wheelchair.

Shamira wiped her eyes, making sure that she hadn't bled tears again. Every moment of her life still seemed so painful. If Clara had not bonded their fates together for another several weeks, Shamira probably would have killed herself within days. Now, she knew she wouldn't go through with it. But that didn't mean that she was enthusiastic about her existence. "Let's go get this over with. I've never broken up with anyone before."

'Then don't do it now,' Renata thought. She walked a step beside her friend, making sure the chair did not snag on anything. The house had not exactly been designed to be handicapped accessible, but it was roomy enough that there had not been any incidents. When Shamira got to the greeting area, Arthur and Kira were already there, deep in conversation with Shane. Clara was nearby, looking incredibly uncomfortable, and she shot Shamira an apologetic look.

'Don't you dare,' she thought. 'Don't you dare have told them --' But Shamira's thoughts were cut short when she saw the looks on her donors' faces. Outrage and anguish each had claim to their visages. It was odd, but Shamira thought that even as upset as they were, both of them looked amazing. She had only been with them a couple of times, but both carried themselves much more proudly than the two HIV-infectees that she had first met. Kira broke from the conversation she was having and rushed to Shamira's side, embracing the vampire so tightly that Shamira feared the human woman might hurt herself.

"Just tell me what I can do to get the bastards that did this," she hissed. Shamira had not heard the woman angry before.

"You can't," Shamira said, trying to strike a more conversational tone and act like she was not in a deep-seated mental agony. "I already eviscerated the guy who did this. The rest of them will be taken care of soon enough. They have too many enemies." She ran her hand up Kira's arm in a comforting motion. She did not want anyone else getting distressed over her condition. "You look good, by the way. Have you been working out?"

"Don't change the subject. I want to hurt someone for this and Lord Stapleton told me I could."

Shamira glowered. "I don't want them getting hurt. You had no right --"

"Shamira," Shane interrupted calmly, "shut the hell up."

Everyone just stopped and stared at him. Clara was looking around for another lamp to throw at her boss's head, and Shamira's jaw was just hanging open.

Shane was not done. "Shamira, I love you as much as the day I brought you over, and I will do everything in my power to make you better. I have not always handled you the way that I should have, and I will probably screw up again." People looked even more surprised, since a Lord publicly admitting an inadequacy violated certain social rules.

"You died protecting me, you risked your life protecting innocents from the Dark Pools, you risked my wrath again by breaking ranks and helping that were family, and then you rescued a young werebear from death with no regard for yourself. And this is in less than three months! Just once, you're going to have to let US look after YOU. With Kira's access to certain financial information and Pierre's hacking skills, we can cut off what little resources that Lacroix has left. If necessary, I will personally go down to Savannah and drag Jonas kicking and screaming all the way back up to my threshold and exact my pound of flesh. And I will want you there to remind him of exactly why he is suffering and to show the world that no one and I mean NO ONE does what he has done to you or to anyone."

Shamira noticed that her sire was practically bristling with energy. He was beyond angry. This constituted a full-fledged display of the sin of Wrath . . . capitalized and all and straight out of the Seven Deadlies. Part of her hungered for the revenge he promised, but part of her --

"We can't," she said. "How can we show that what they did was wrong by doing something worse?" Not that she could think of anything worse.

Shane looked stunned. "You don't want revenge?"

"Oh, I want it. I just . . . No one should go through what they did to me. Not even them. You want to kill them, fine. Roughing them up first works too, but . . . not this. I'm still trying to figure out how to live with myself. Don't make it harder." Shamira felt soft hands wielding incredibly power kneading her shoulders.

Alessandra was smiling. "I thought I would never feel so much pride in one of my offspring as when Shane took control of Atlanta. Until now. You are what the future of our race needs to be." She lifted Shamira's chin. "Unfailing compassion and a sense of justice."

"Shane told us that you were going to see if another vampire would take us," Arthur said. "As donors. We don't want anyone else . . . no offense," he added quickly looking at all the other tantalizing options in the room. "You looked at us like we meant something to you, and that means you mean something to us."

"I've got nothing left to offer," Shamira muttered. 'What do they expect from me?' she wondered.

"I completely disagree," Kira replied. "You've got . . . well, you. And that's a hell of a lot as far as we're concerned. Since we first met you, we've felt more alive than . . . well, forever. And it wasn't just the sex. You treated us like friends and you even let us taste your blood, really treating us like one of you."

"Uhm, what was that?" Shane asked. "That last part?"

"She treats us like one of you?" Arthur asked. He was obviously confused.

"Before that. Shamira shared blood with you?"

Shamira felt a little defensive. "Clara said it couldn't hurt and --"

"It shouldn't," he interrupted, cautiously moving back into range where she could hit him. He knew that she might still be holding a grudge for his interference in her life. "But you say you've both felt more energized since?"

"An interesting coincidence, don't you think?" the Representative murmured. "Come here," she requested of the two humans. Kira and Arthur obeyed instantly. That was the kind of stroke that the ancient vampire commanded. She looked into each of their eyes, stroking them sensuously along the cheek. Their bodies reacted out of instinct, though Kira glanced back at Shamira as if she felt guilty about being aroused by another vamp. For a moment, it made Shamira grin. Monogamy was not exactly a problem around here in any respect.

"They are Renfields," the Representative whispered, her eyes glowing with curiosity. "But that should not be possible."

"Renfields?" Arthur asked. "You mean like the book?"

Shane sat down rapidly, his mind racing. "But how . . . Never mind. This is Shamira, and she seems to obey no rules of logic that I can fathom."

"Hey!" Shamira said, forgetting for a moment that she was supposed to be feeling sorry for herself. "What did I do? And would someone fill me in on what the hell you're talking about?"

The Representative pulled up a chair next to Shamira and sat down. "Renfields have been around since vampires came into existence, but adopted that particular moniker after Bram Stoker wrote his famous book. Before that, they were simply called shades. It appears that name may be more apt for servants of the queen of shadows. A Renfield is a human that has shared the blood of a vampire and through such transfer has gained some power, though this power tends to come with an above-average loyalty to the vampire."

"Wait! So I brain-washed them?"

"No. Such a gift is usually only given to those the vampire trusts and is fond of and those feelings are reciprocated. They just tend to be stronger than normal. The problem is, you are supposed to be a full vampire before you can even attempt such a thing, much like gaining the ability to bring a human over into our world. Banshee should be able to do it in a few years, but not every vampire has the ability. YOU should not even be able to attempt it for two centuries."

Shamira was feeling dizzy. "So what does that mean? Are they going to be okay?"

"It means that, if true, they will gain some abilities related to the power of their vampire lord," Shane replied.

Clara stepped forward. "Does that mean . . . do you think that Shamira could create new vampires?"

Shane and Alessandra looked at each other. "It is a possibility," the elder vampire replied.

"What kind of powers?" Arthur asked. "We haven't learned to fly or anything. Or whatever vampires do." He blushed a bit with embarrassment. "We didn't take much blood."

"Shamira has great power, so not much was needed, or so it would appear." Shane looked deep in thought for a moment. "You may have developed some of her healing abilities. She is . . . an exceptional healer from most things." He looked pained now, as his eyes and thoughts were drawn back to Shamira's conditions.

"They do sleep in a really dark room," Shamira said. "Maybe . . . wait, this isn't right. How can I . . . damn it, it's because of HIM, isn't it?" She felt her anger rising.

"Calm down, love," Clara whispered, kissing her on the cheek.

"HIM who?" Kira asked.

Shane sighed, then looked at Shamira. She nodded reluctantly, so he continued. "Shamira seems destined to become the living incarnation of an ancient and very powerful dragon who grants his power to vampires every now and again when the world is in a time of great peril. That person inevitably faces severe trials before they come into their full potential, but even a little of the Shadow Wing's power is beyond most peoples' comprehension."

Arthur's jaw was moving but no sound was coming out, so his wife was the one who asked, "So Shamira is a . . . a dragon?"

"Not yet, but she might be."

Shamira was getting angry. "We don't know --"

"Love, you have four of the five Aspects. You even just blamed Shadow Wing for all of this." Clara held Shamira close. "It's only a matter of time."

Shamira let out a barking, humorless laugh. "Well, time I've got plenty of."

Shane shook his head and decided to change subjects. This one was going nowhere. He looked at Arthur and Kira and asked, "Would you consent to having our house doctor have a look at both of you? It might help us find out what enhancements you have acquired."

Arthur nodded around the same time as his wife. "Sure." He looked at Shamira, then, "Whatever happens, we don't want another vampire to be donors for. You picked us, so you're stuck with us." He kissed one cheek, Kira kissed the other, then they vlet Renata lead them to Tabitha's office.

Shane stared after them. "Representative, what if Shamira has come into full vampire powers already? Does she gain the right to make her own children?"

The Representative looked at Shamira, her eyes filled with questions. "I do not know. This has never happened to my knowledge, so there is no precedent. The few incarnations of Shadow Wing that I have researched were all well over two centuries old when they came into their power. With you, it is as if --"

"What?" Shamira felt her skin crawling. "As if what?"

"As if the last Moon Dragon was waiting for you. Because he certainly is not wasting any time."

"And what good am I to him now? He wants to possess a cripple? Do they make those little pet wheelchairs for dragons?"

"He does not possess," the Representative replied, ignoring Shamira's self-pity. "He grants power. You will always be you."

Shamira's face fell. She pushed the wheels of her chair and she lurched into motion. "What if I don't want to be me anymore?" she said as she rolled away. Then Clara got in her way.

"Then you don't want to be the person I'm in love with. So where does that leave me?"

Shamira could not meet her gaze. "That's not fair."

"Nothing about this is fair," Clara said, her voice choking, "but that doesn't change how I feel. I want you to live and I want you to be happy and I want you to get better, and I'm willing to fight for all of that. But I can't do it if you won't try."

Shane nodded. "We're all willing to do whatever we can. The rest is up to you."

"I . . . thanks," Shamira replied, feeling a bit embarrassed by all this now. "I'm going to go check on Kira and Arthur." When Clara got behind the wheelchair and started to push, Shamira tried to object.

"Shut up and let me help you," the shaman sniffed, then proceeded to maneuver the chair down the hall. She smiled a little when she heard her lover call her a "pushy bitch" under her breath, since they both knew Clara could hear it.

When they got to the medical station, Tabitha was yucking it up with her patients. The laughter paused when Shamira appeared and the participants looked guilty.

"I didn't mean to interrupt. Please," Shamira said, giving strength to her voice that she did not feel.

"I just found it amusing," Tabitha started, glancing at Arthur, "that someone who is so interested in being a blood donor to a vampire can also be afraid of needles."

Shamira's mouth curved up involuntarily. "Seriously?"

Arthur blushed beat red. "I don't know. They're just so . . . icky."

"Yes, I order the especially icky brands as well," Tabitha grinned. "He almost passed out when I was taking samples."

"I know that you're a doctor in the normal world, but --" Shamira paused. "How do you know what you're testing for?"

"Shane actually has lent me a number of scrolls and tomes that belong to some of the greatest apothecaries in magical history. And Mysti-pedia has its own version of WebMd, which I've become very --" The medic stopped and looked at Shamira, trying not to grimace. "-- very familiar with in the last week."

"That's me. Always the problem child," Shamira said, trying to find some humor however grim in her situation. "How long until the tests are done?"

"I should be able to have a complete bloodwork done in the next day or so. Apparently there is a lab in Atlanta that caters to magical creatures, so I'll send samples there in a bit."

"Why not just take them yourself?" Shamira asked.

"I have to avoid being seen in Atlanta for a while. I haven't even been dead as long as you, and I was somewhat well known. The police are still looking for my killer, by the way." This Tabitha said with a smirk which Shamira was able to return.

"Someone killed you?" Kira asked. "That's horrible. Did you get a good look at him?"

For the first time in a while, Shamira was actually able to laugh.

Shamira felt obliged to play hostess for a while, allowing Clara to push her around the house and give her human guests the grand tour. It took a while.

"This place is huge!" Arthur said.

"Yet it's getting crowded. We have twenty-one of Shane's house . . . well, twenty-two if you count Jeremiah."

"Jeremiah?" Kira asked.

"He's a poltergeist, so he doesn't really take up space. Neither does Coramen for that matter. Most of the time anyway," Clara rectified.

"Okay, I haven't been around much since she was brought in," Shamira said. "She's only four inches tall. How --"

Clara grinned. "She can grow. Only for an hour at a time, but she can become human sized. And is she ever stacked. She'd got these Dolly Parton boobs, and they're natural!"

"Sounds great," Shamira replied. "I'm glad she found a place here. Top or bottom?"

"Oh, she's a total bottom. But she can't be bound with metal, so we have to use organics with her. Non-synthetic ropes or --"

"Uhm, you mean she's a submissive?" Arthur asked.

"Oh yeah," Clara replied. "I guess you're becoming a little more inner-circle, so it's okay to tell them."

Shamira looked sheepish. "Everyone in this house has certain . . . sexual needs. Everyone here is a dominant or submissive."

"So --" Kira paused, blushing a bit herself.

"Ask anything," Shamira replied.

"Who was your submissive?"

Shamira looked at Clara, who snickered as she looked back. "Uhm, well everyone kind of shares," she said slowly. "But actually, I'm a sub. More often than not, I'm hers."

Kira looked confused. "But you're just so . . . butch."

"I am not!" Shamira replied indignantly.

"No, I don't mean not feminine. Not at all or . . . I just mean that . . . well, you're so strong."

"It's okay," Shamira said. "It took them a while for them to convince me it was okay."

"So, did you want us to --"

"Our submissives aren't allowed to play bottom to donors," Clara interjected. "It's just a blanket rule to prevent overzealous donors from doing something rash. Dominants can't play with human submissives without a lot of training. Humans are . . . fragile. At least comparatively."

"I guess this makes me a little less . . . you know, 'wow,'" Shamira said.

Kira looked upset. "Listen, if you really want to get rid of us, then just say so. Because we already said we don't want another vampire." She looked at Clara. "No offense. Again."

"Why don't you donate now?" Clara asked. She glanced at Shamira who would have gone pale if that were still possible. "YOU need to eat more anyway. I really think you'll feel better afterward."

"But I can't --"

"Sharing blood with a willing donor is a gift. Doing it your way, it's even more of a gift. It doesn't HAVE to be associated with sex, that's just the way we've always done it around here." She pushed at the wheelchair again. "C'mon, let's show 'em the bedroom."

Shamira was trying to slow the chair and turn her head so she could "discuss" this plan with her friend, but Clara was having none of it. When they finally reached the bedroom door, Shamira was just grumbling and fuming and considering making a break for it . . . as much as she could . . . while Clara let their guests inside.

"My Goddess," Kira muttered. "It's bigger than our whole apartment! And that bed!" She ran her hands over the smooth, cool bedspread. Then she burst into the bathroom for a gander.

"Great. If the bathroom is as nice as I think it is, we'll never see her again," Arthur chuckled. "If we actually had any money and could buy our own place, half the place would probably be a bathroom."

"A walk-in shower!" Kira shouted.

"She's a goner," her husband replied wistfully, going to extract his wife from her explorations.

"What are you doing?!" Shamira whispered angrily. "You know I'm not ready for this."

"I know that you're afraid of this," Clara said, kneeling and planting a kiss on Shamira's forehead. "They are your responsibility, now more than ever. If I left it up to you, you'd never be ready again as long as you are in that chair. And as much as neither of us want to think about it, we have no idea how long you will be there. And don't you dare say 'forever' because I don't believe that."

"So here's what you've reduced me to. Guilt. They're here, trying to support you like you supported them when most people they knew had written them off. If you had just broken your relationship off with them like you had planned, they would have seen it as yet another social rejection. This intimacy, through their blood, is the only thing they have left to offer you and they want to give it."

Shamira actually sunk into her chair and pouted. "You suck."

That earned her a kiss on the lips. "I know," Clara whispered across that now-slim divide.

That kiss didn't make Shamira's legs work again, but everything from the waist up was on notice. She wondered if she could be satisfied in a relationship if all she could experience was those kisses, because Clara was making a strong case. When Clara kissed her again, Shamira barely noticed she was being moved to the bed. The Native American lay on top of her, stroking her cheeks while their tongues danced again. All the parts of Shamira that could tingle did. So the crippled vampire just lay back in the mind-bogglingly comfortable bed while her lover eased down next to her.