Vampire Bonds (Darkbloods Book 1)

by Delia E Castel

  My brows draw together. “It happened in the convent?”

  “Someone found her on the path to the Garden of Penitence. Do you know anything?”

  “Nothing.” I point at the door, step back into the room, and walk past the beds toward the exit. Footsteps resound down the hallway, followed by the muffled thud of the door that leads to the spiral stairs.

  I open the door to find the hallway free of spies and close it shut. “The monster tracked us down.”

  Her eyes turn round. “On your date?”

  My cheeks warm. “It wasn’t a…” I raise a shoulder. “There was a kiss, but he mostly wanted to train my reflexes.”

  “Considering who we’re talking about, that was a date.” She says the next in a low whisper. “He can’t exactly take you out to slaughter the innocent.”

  “Alaric isn’t like that,” I say.

  She raises her palms. “It was a joke.”

  “Do you know if Evangeline got bitten?” I whisper.

  Poppy shakes her head.

  My shoulders sag, and I trudge to the bathroom. If the monster attacked Evangeline, it means two terrible truths. One, it knows where to go if it wants to reproduce en masse. Two, there’s no way that creature would leave Evangeline unconscious without injecting her with its venom.

  Our first lesson of the day is Advanced Supernatural Biology, which we share with the mages. When we reach the biology lab, a sister of servitude leads us to the atrium. The fountain of Saint Theodora is missing, and a panel of transparent plastic covers the stone floors.

  About a hundred high stools surround the expanse, taking up space between the columns that separate the atrium from the surrounding hallways that lead to the towers. Active slayers occupy one side, acolytes sit around the other two sides, leaving one side with a projector, a whiteboard, and a seven-foot-tall, plastic trunk.

  The two sisters of servitude who work for Sister Anning as lab partners stand at the trunk, making me suspect it contains something alive or at least moving.

  Poppy rubs her hands together. “It must be a special lecture.”

  “Good, because there’s only so many ways a person can learn to stake a vampire,” I mutter.

  “Hey.” Someone places a hand on my arm.

  I turn around to meet the gray eyes of Sigrid, one of the girls on Evangeline’s team. Her skin is paler than usual, and the waves in her blonde hair appear limp. It’s the same blonde hair that reflected in the moonlight on the night I got bitten.

  My hands curl into fists. “What do you want?”

  She licks her lips and says in a small voice, “Could you tell Presbytera Driver that I didn’t know Evangeline deliberately left you behind?”

  “You stood at the boardwalk and watched me struggling with that thing. What the hell did you think was happening?” I ask, already remembering Evangeline’s sick joke about finding mating dogs.

  A group of girls passes, including Taylor, and Natalia, the other two acolytes from Evangeline’s team. They’re too busy waving at their friends to notice us, but Sigrid glances at them over her shoulder.

  “I didn’t get a good view.” She leans into me and whispers, “When I tried to get close, she told us it was nothing.”

  Stepping back, I tighten my lips at the blatant lie. Has she forgotten that she had ample opportunity to look in the time Evangeline strolled to our side with her conciliar?

  “A nothing that Kofi encased in a barrier?” I say.

  She blows out a long breath. “It isn’t easy coming from the native world to be a slayer. Everything here is so new, and Evangeline was so welcoming.”

  “Which means what?” I fold my arms across my chest.

  Beside me, Poppy huffs out a breath. I can tell she’s rolling her eyes. We all joined Agia Convent at the same time, all not knowing what to expect. I shared what knowledge I had of slaying and the Order with the other girls, but Evangeline was the popular one.

  “Forget it.” Sigrid stomps across the room.

  “Someone who prioritizes politics over the mission doesn't belong on the battlefield,” says Poppy. “I can’t believe her nerve.”

  “How does she expect me to lie to Driver about having left me to that creature?” I mutter.

  Poppy shrugs, and we cross the atrium and head toward an archway of empty stools and take a seat, then I realize what’s also missing from this area. When I tilt my head up, there’s a transparent shield spanning the space’s entire breadth. It’s an ultraviolet filter, meaning that what’s inside the trunk is a vampire.

  Maeve lowers herself into the seat next to mine and places her hand on mine. Her dark brows furrow, and I think she’s asking if I’m alright. My heart sinks. So much has happened since Poppy and the slayers tracked me down at the hotel’s verandah that I hadn’t even thought about speaking to my team.

  “Everyone be silent.” Sister Anning walks through the standing slayers and stops in the middle of the atrium. She’s about five-five with olive skin and curly hair as silver as grandma’s, even though her unlined features make her look about thirty.

  “Welcome to a series of special lectures on older vampires.” She clasps her hands over her white lab coat. “Today, I will demonstrate the capabilities of a vampire at the master level.”

  Behind her, the lab assistants unlatch the trunk, and a dazed Fortescue steps out squinting and with his arms outstretched. He only wears a pair of white underpants, exposing unnaturally pale skin that makes Alaric’s look tanned. Red glyphs decorate his muscled chest. Some of them represent obedience, but most I only vaguely recognize.

  I lean into Poppy’s side and whisper, “What do they mean?”

  She whispers back, “He’s a slave.”

  Someone on the other side of the atrium wolf-whistles, and a few of the slayer acolytes giggle. I purse my lips and exchange a glance with Poppy, who mirrors my expression. They wouldn’t find him so funny if he transformed into a giant wolf.

  “Silence!” Sister Anning’s voice cuts through the merriment. “Those of you who read paranormal fiction will have heard of wolf shifters, bear shifters, and other types of beings that shift from human to animal. They don’t exist.”

  She turns to Fortescue. “Show them your first beast form, subject V-SA-seventy-two.”

  He transforms into a bat with the body size of a large kitten and wings that span over five feet. A shimmering cord wrapped around his neck attaches to gold magic on Sister Anning’s wrist.

  The younger acolytes gasp. A pair of apprentice mage at the back start a round of applause, which fizzles out when nobody joins in.

  I rub the back of my neck and grimace at the large fangs protruding from the front of its mouth and turn to Maeve, who mirrors my expression.

  Nudging her in the side, I whisper, “Thanks for the javelin that night.”

  She nods and smiles.

  Sister Anning invites the acolytes to comment on the differences between Fortescue’s bat and other bats in the wild. Someone says his form is larger, and a lab assistant opens a cage, releasing a similarly sized flying fox. Another says he has fangs, but the lab assistant brings up an image of a vampire bat’s teeth on the projector.

  “In the heat of battle, the differences between native animals and a vampire’s beast form are negligible. That’s what makes the master vampire so dangerous.” She turns to the lab assistant, who pricks her thumb and raises her bleeding hand.

  The bat’s eyes turn red, and it lunges toward the sister.

  “Heel,” shouts Sister Anning.

  The bat stiffens and drops to the floor. At the instructor’s next command, Fortescue transforms into the black wolf we fought in the alley, which Sister Anning explains is the species Canis lupus sanguinis, which scientists observe as a wolf that drinks blood.

  Throughout the lesson, she makes him transform into mist, a finch, and even a lamprey, whose head consists of a funnel of sharp teeth that makes some of the younger girls scream.

  Sister Anning
holds out the lamprey, her features stern. “You must be vigilant of every seemingly living creature because you will never know if a vampire is close.”

  In the blink of an eye, Fortescue reverts to vampire form and stumbles onto his hands and knees. “I can’t keep performing on such meager rations.”

  “What are you feeding him?” asks Luci.

  “Donations from willing volunteers,” replies Sister Anning.

  I raise my hand. “Why don’t you give him animal blood?”

  Fortescue raises his head, his eyes red and his features twisted with such intense loathing that it makes my stomach drop. “You should have killed me,” he snarls. “Instead, these women are torturing and working me beyond exhaustion.”

  I swallow.

  Sister Anning threads her fingers through his dark hair and drags him to his feet. “Explain to this acolyte what happens to vampires who vary from their diets of human blood.”

  His face hardens and his nostrils flare. Resentment ripples across his face, but he says, “Drinking from anything dead causes our insides to rot. Blood from live animals is unappetizing.”

  An assistant brings a beaker of what appears to be blood.

  “Demonstrate,” she says.

  He jerks his head away. “The Order is supposed to slay, not play with its food.”

  “I command you to drink this pig’s blood.” This time, there’s more steel in her voice.

  The glyphs on his chest glow the same color as the restraints on his animal form. Fortescue snatches the beaker from the assistant’s hand and drains the blood in several gulps. The assistant takes back the empty receptacle and steps back, leaving Fortescue standing in the middle of the atrium, his arms shaking with repressed rage.

  Sister Anning continues the lecture with historical accounts of master vampires who remained in their animal forms to hunt. An assistant brings up an image of a large anaconda found in Brazil that would swallow its victims and leave preserved, bloodless corpses.

  Sigrid raises her hand. “Are there any other animal forms we haven’t seen?”

  The instructor gestures at an assistant, who pulls up a whiteboard to write up a list. Then she turns to Sigrid. “A vampire in New Mexico could turn into a black panther that—”

  A loud scream pulls our attention to Fortescue, who falls onto his side and convulses.

  Blood seeps through the front of his white underpants and pools beneath his backside, indicating that it’s also escaping through his anus. The dark liquid continues to flow, even after Fortescue stops moving, and it spreads across the atrium, even though he only drank a beaker full.

  Some of the students sitting closest to Fortescue rise from their stools and back through the arches and into the hallways. I place my hand over my mouth and breathe hard. Sister Anning didn’t need to force the vampire to drink that blood. All that information was already in the textbooks. It’s cruel and pointless to keep Fortescue alive to suffer.

  For the rest of the day, thoughts of Fortescue whirl through my mind. Grandma’s voice in my head reminds me that he killed innocent people for over a hundred years. Slaying him is no different to eradicating a virus or a disease.

  I can’t focus on my classes. What if the Order had captured Alaric and subjected him to those experiments? I doubt that Sister Anning would care that he had been captured as a child, transformed into a vampire against his will, and kept weak with animal blood. He would be an interesting specimen, forced to transform and suffer experiments to further knowledge of a breed of harmless vampires.

  In Sensory Magic, the Magus pulls me to the aside to reprimand me for not paying attention. Poppy asks what’s wrong but I can’t explain.

  At dinnertime, Poppy and I arrive later than usual to the dining hall. The last vestiges of sunlight stream in through the arched windows on the right of the space, but the tall table lamps provide most of the illumination. Students, mages, and active slayers ladle tomato soup from deep ceramic dishes dotted about the three rows of long tables.

  “It’s a bit early in the term for an informal assembly.” I nod at the row of sisters of servitude standing to attention along the windowless wall on the left. The sisters usually mill about the hall, replenishing bowls of breads and water jugs. Whatever has them standing there must be important.

  A tall, sandy-haired figure rises from the front and waves us over. I ignore Jude and head toward the nearest seats, which happen to be within a group of first and second-year acolytes

  “Ask her about Evangeline,” whispers a girl with a chestnut-brown afro to her freckled friend with a strawberry-blonde bob. The two girls glance at me and giggle.

  When neither of them asks their question, I reach across the table, ladle out two portions of tomato soup, and pass one to Poppy, who sits at my side. She pushes the bowl of bread to my place setting and grabs a baguette slice.

  “May I have your attention, please?” Presbytera Driver’s voice projects from a podium at the end of the room. She’s wearing another variation of her tweed suits with an open robe, which means that her announcement will be important.

  Everyone falls silent.

  “There is a new threat that endangers slayers of all levels within the Order.” She pauses and surveys the dining hall.

  I pick at the bread roll, guessing this is about the attack on Evangeline.

  “It’s creature of unknown origin and immeasurable strength, which may or may not be sentient. Thanks to Acolyte Augustine’s detailed report, we know something about its appearance and capabilities. Last night, it attacked another acolyte, leaving her requiring extensive surgery.”

  Quiet chatter spreads across the dining hall. Poppy turns to me, her face pale. I gulp at the confirmation that the monster breached the wards.

  When everyone turns their attention back to the front, Presbytera Driver dabs the corner of her eye with a handkerchief. “The creature also…” She turns her head to the side, pressing her hand over her chest. “It…”

  I lean forward, my heart galloping away with my thoughts. What else did the monster do last night on its way to find me?

  Driver clears her throat. “It decapitated Sister Shevette, threw her head into the sea, and burned her body in the woods.”

  Shock hits me like a kick to the gut, my loud gasp mingles with the cries around the dining hall. I saw Alaric throw the monster’s head into the sea, and he returned to the cliff to get rid of the body.

  “Be alert,” Presbytera Driver shouts over the sounds of anguish.

  We all fall quiet to hear the rest of her announcement.

  Driver inhales a deep breath and continues. “Our mages have removed samples from the affected acolyte and have adjusted the wards to keep out this creature, but all acolyte patrols are canceled until we have caught and slain this new and dangerous enemy.”

  I press the heel of my hand into my aching chest. Every fact points to the conclusion that the monster from last night was Sister Shevette, but that can’t be right. She wouldn’t wound the daughter she tried so hard to protect, and she also wouldn’t want to turn me into her monstrous offspring.

  My gaze drops to my lap, and rapid breaths heave in and out of my lungs. What on earth is going on?

  Chapter 20

  Later that evening, flashes of light from outside make me cut short a video chat with Uncle Fred. Now that nobody is allowed to visit or leave the island unless for official slaying duties, I can’t visit him at the hotel. I rise from the edge of my bed, open the balcony door, and dodge a beam of magic.

  I close the glass door and rush to the window and find a group of mages running through the gardens pointing huge staffs at the tower.

  “That was Alaric.” I turn to where Poppy sits at her desk, typing a letter to Madoc on her laptop. He’s in a remote part of the world with spotty reception, so the only way to say anything meaningful is with a long email.

  She raises her head and frowns. “What makes you think he could get through the wards?”

&nb
sp; “They shot at the balcony.” I tilt my head up to the dark sky, looking for signs of a flying vampire, but all I see are white beams.

  My shoulders droop. Not getting to train with Alaric is awful, but the wasted magic spent on protecting the convent from the monster is worse. “I wish they knew the truth.”

  “Then you’d have to explain why you didn’t report it.” Poppy shakes her head. “What if Evangeline blames you for what happened to Sister Shevette?”

  I purse my lips and tear my gaze away from the streams of magic, hoping that if that was really Alaric, he didn’t stay around to troll the mages.

  Days roll by, and we’re still confined to the Island. Slayers patrol the grounds, looking for sights of the monster, and mages pour their magic into the wards. Everyone’s on edge, including me because I know the monster is dead. I can’t find the phone number of Farrier’s Weaponry on Google, and I don’t dare to ask Uncle Fred to pass on a message to Galla. He’s already under pressure from Grandma to extract information about my supposed warlock.

  On Halloween morning, we sit at the front of the dining hall enjoying a breakfast of oatmeal and strawberries. Driver rises to the podium and calls for our attention. “Good morning, cadets and acolytes. We appreciate your patience during this period of lockdown and confirm that there have been no sightings of the creature that killed Sister Shevette.”

  Relieved chatter breaks out across the hall, and I squirm at all the resources that got wasted because of my silence.

  “As a reward for complying in these difficult circumstances, the Magus and I have authorized extra warding over the Agia Hotel.”

  Cheers and whoops fill the air. It takes a few seconds to remember that there was supposed to be a Halloween party at the hotel tonight. I perk up in my seat at the chance to spend the evening with Uncle Fred.

  Poppy grabs my hand. “You’re my date.”

  “I’m going to see—”

  “Ask Fred to chaperone.” She turns pleading eyes on me. “That way you can see him and I’ll have a dance partner.”