A Shade of Vampire 90: A Ruler of Clones - Bella Forrest Page 0,62

to press him further. “Complicated” didn’t even begin to cover what this whole thing was, but I had a feeling I’d already gotten everything I could from Brandon at this point. It left room for me to speculate and maybe even imagine a potential outcome where he might stick around, but I knew it wouldn’t be healthy for me to indulge in possibilities that might never come to pass. Yes, I would’ve liked for Brandon to stay, but it wasn’t my decision to make, and I didn’t want to influence it, either. It wouldn’t be right.

We spent a few minutes in comfortable silence, watching the perpetual night stretch across the fake Shade. Under different circumstances, I would’ve seen this whole place as a fascinating homage to our world. It was beautiful in its own way, and the creatures inhabiting it deserved better than what they’d been given. If there was one thing I’d learned in my few years of life, it was that hate wasn’t something you were born with. Hate was taught. Someone had taught the clones to loathe us, to want to kill us.

“Do you know how she made the clones?” I asked Brandon after a while. “I know samples of our DNA were used, but why couldn’t she make them with real souls? I don’t quite understand that.”

Brandon nodded slowly, gazing out into the distance. “Berserkers and Valkyries don’t have the life-giving powers of your kind. Neither do the Reapers. Everything that’s beyond the realm of the dead is incapable of creating souls. That’s what I know, anyway. I could be wrong. There may be some exception prior to the land of Purgatory, I guess… but Valkyries don’t have that power. And whatever else she might be, Hrista is still a Valkyrie. All she has is our particular brand of magic and one gargantuan ego to feed.”

“So, she has the bodies made out there, in The Shade’s extension,” I replied, trying to visualize the process. I remembered Ta’Zan’s operations from the startling details in GASP’s history and science classes, but I wasn’t sure if it resembled Hrista’s in any way. “Does she use certain types of machinery or magic? Or both?”

“Both would be an appropriate answer. I have no idea of the details, however,” Brandon said. “I never set foot inside the labs. All I did was deliver the DNA samples. What I do know is that Hrista is perpetually bothered by her inability to make souls. She’s insanely competitive against the likes of Order, Death, and the Word. Of the three, the Word is the hardest to replicate. Order is our supreme authority, but she’s made us in her own image, more or less. Death… well, her magic and Reapers and scythes are pretty easy to figure out. I know there are stories in Purgatory about a time when a Reaper tried to come through and live with us…” He paused to laugh lightly, the idea clearly amusing him.

I, on the other hand, was instantly curious. “Wasn’t that the Spirit Bender, like Thayen said?”

“No, it’s someone else. The whole thing happened way before I was made. Perhaps Edda or Bodil might know more. Unfortunately, neither is here to help us figure things out,” Brandon said with a heavy sigh. “Sometimes, I wonder if they’d be able to do anything against Hrista. She’s got some serious mojo going on here, Pinkie. Mojo she’s not supposed to have, and I don’t know where she got it from or how. That’s what really scares me.”

It was the first time I’d heard him say he was afraid. It couldn’t be an easy thing to admit, especially for a punisher like Brandon—for a Berserker. I wished I knew what to say, but all I could do was place my hand over his. The feeling of our skin touching triggered strange reactions inside me, and heat bloomed in my chest as his gaze found my face.

The second that followed felt like the longest I had ever experienced. I waited for something to happen. Holding my breath, I didn’t look away from him. His eyes smiled when his lips wouldn’t. There were things he would’ve liked to say, that much was obvious. But he didn’t. He held it all back and stood, stretching his arms as if he’d just gotten out of bed.

“Come on, Pinkie. I’ve got two Valkyries to disappoint.”

I stood too, and he moved away from me, even as the tension between us persisted. There was something happening here, for sure.