The Silver Bird: Immortal Secrets Trilogy Book One (Immortals Secrets Trilogy 1)

by S J Williams

  “No. Because they’re dead.” Sebastian said, his voice dark with loathing. “Vampires cannot feed from a human without killing them. Once they start to drink, they glut themselves. If they do have some control, it is not enough to let the human go. They will keep their victim and periodically drink from them over a few days until the human is dead.”

  Effie looked between him and Henry. Henry nodded solemnly. “Vampires are among the worst serial killers the world can produce.”

  “I see.” Effie said. “How often do they have to feed?”

  “It depends on the vampire.” Henry sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Some can last for months without feeding, during which time they will carefully select and groom their prey. Others are unable to contain their bloodlust if they do not feed at least once a week.”

  “Those vampires do not last long.” Sebastian said with a sneer. “They are an exposure risk. If their own kind do not kill them, we will.”

  “But otherwise you let this happen?” Effie’s voice cracked with outrage.

  “We do not.” Sebastian responded, his eyes flashing. “We hunt and destroy every vampire we discover.”

  Effie was quiet for a while. Finally, she asked, “And going out in sunlight, dying if they’re staked in the heart, turning into bats, things like that?”

  Henry smiled. “Ah, I see you have spotted the parallels between the old Dracula myth and the true reality of vampires. Yes, vampires are intolerant of sunlight. Any fire, in fact, can be lethal to them. But no, they cannot transform into bats or any other beast. Thank goodness, or hunting them would be that much harder. Staking them in the heart is equally untrue as is all antipathy to religious symbols. I’m really not sure when or how garlic came into it but that is the nature of myths for you.”

  “Perhaps it makes humans taste bad.” Effie suggested weakly. “So vampires are sort of like Dracula with a reduced arsenal of supernatural powers and immortals are like humans, only better? With special powers?”

  “An excellent summary and certainly one that will do for tonight.” Henry said cheerfully. “Though I think you’ll find the differences are more pronounced in practice. When immortals turn a potential immortal, they form a telepathic bond which allows them to communicate through articulate thoughts. Speaking mind to mind, essentially. It’s comes in handy, to say the least.”

  Effie thought back to when she’d suspected Sebastian and Henry were somehow wordlessly communicating with each other. “Did you turn Henry, or the other way around?” She asked Sebastian, who nodded once, his expression solemn. “I found and turned Henry in the twelfth century.”

  Effie paused again. That was… a long time. Swallowing hard, she asked, “Can vampires do that too? I mean, form bonds with the potential immortals they turn?”

  Henry grimaced. “They can, but they don’t have the right energy to sustain telepathy.” When Effie just stared at him, he shook his head. “Never mind the details. The relationship is like that between a master and a thrall. You remember we said vampires have some control over humans, they can have the same control over the vampires they turn, especially when their spawn are young and the vampire in question is particularly strong. It doesn’t always work out that way, but, on the whole, a vampire will actively seek to turn more potential immortals because it gives them a small army of minions.”

  Effie thought about that. “Do vampires give their … spawn a choice to turn?”

  Henry shrugged. “It’s doubtful. I’m sure some might be seduced, but I’d be surprised if any new vampire really knew what they were signing up for.”

  Effie was quiet again, mulling over what she’d just heard. She opened her mouth to ask another question, but she caught a glimpse of Sebastian from the corner of her eye and a much less polished thought came out. “You must be ancient.” She blushed. “I’m sorry. That’s probably incredibly rude.” She peeked at Sebastian who had raised an eyebrow at her. “You said you were turned in the twelfth century,” she said to Henry, struggling gamely on under Sebastian’s sardonic gaze, “but is that a normal age for immortals? If you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Not at all. I’m quite young in immortal terms. Ask Romulus over there. He’s more representative of our kind.”

  “Romulus?” She turned to stare at Sebastian who met her gaze with a small smile. “As in founder of Rome, Romulus?”

  Sebastian shook his head.

  “Henry is teasing you. I am not in fact the founder of Rome. We are, however contemporaries. I was born in roughly 780 BC.”

  Oh, now they were talking.

  “But that would make you older than Plato! Oh, you have to tell me everything. What was it like? Did you go to Athens? Did you go to Rome? Were you actually there when it was founded?”

  Sebastian struggled to hide his smile. This was going better than he’d hoped. He was glad he had Henry here to explain their existence to Effie. She had refused to talk to him for a week the one and only time he’d tried explaining. At least he now knew to show her his healing ability before starting the explanations. It paid to have hindsight on his side.

  “I wasn’t present.” He told her, basking in her open attention. It might be the first time since they had first met that she listened to him without any suspicion in her eyes. She was even looking at him again. “I was born in what is now Syria. Sadly, as a lowly peasant boy, I wasn’t invited to witness important occasions like the founding of civilisations.”

  “But you became more important later? Or you must have been aware of some things. Like all that fuss with Julius Caesar, Mark Antony and Cleopatra?” She asked eagerly.

  “I was but, once again, I’m afraid my knowledge of it really stems from the history books as much as anyone else’s. I’m afraid, at the time, I wasn’t really paying attention to the lives of queens and emperors. It is only as I have matured that I have learnt to recognise moments of significance. That, and improved transportation and communication links, of course.”

  “Of course.” She echoed, her voice faint. He could almost see the questions forming behind her eyes.

  Henry cleared his throat. For the third time, Sebastian thought with amusement. Effie had completely missed the first two attempts.

  “If you’re happy to continue this conversation, I’ll just go and update Catarina on recent events?” Henry asked. He didn’t wait for their answer before standing up. Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he gave Effie another encouraging smile and left the room.

  Effie watched him go, the wariness creeping back into her eyes. Sebastian swallowed a sigh. So much for things going well.

  “Do you have any more questions?” He asked, hopeful that he could keep her distracted. As much as he wanted to be alone with Effie, he could accept that it was still too soon. And it wasn’t as if tact and charm were his strong suits.

  Effie dragged her eyes away from the doorway through which Henry had disappeared and looked at him briefly before turning her gaze to the floor. Sebastian tried not to wince. Time. It would take time for her to trust him and he’d lived more than long enough to learn patience. He ought to have done so, anyway.

  “You said you had some mental abilities. You controlled my mind. What else can you do?”

  Sebastian ignored the accusation in her voice.

  “My main talent is telekinesis.”

  Forgetting herself, Effie gaped at him. “Telekinesis? You can move things with your mind?”

  “Yes.”

  She was silent for a moment. Then. “Prove it.” It was an order, abrupt and uncompromising.

  He looked around the room, considering his options, then decided to go for something flashy. If Effie wanted proof, she’d have it.

  Slowly but smoothly, Effie’s chair began to rise under her. She didn’t notice at first, still watching him with that challenging stare. Then her eyes widened and she gripped the chair arms in an instinctive reaction. She stared at the retreating ground between her feet.

  “Okay. I be
lieve you now. Please put me down.” She’d made an effort to sound calm but he could hear the slight tremor. Trying not to feel too pleased with himself, he gently lowered her again.

  “Okay.” She breathed out slowly. “Okay. Telekinesis.” She paused, thinking. “The lock on the gallery door. That’s how you undid it!”

  “That is one of my talents. You might have noticed it elsewhere. The gates to this house, for example. How did they open?”

  Effie gasped, her mouth a perfect “o”. “I thought they were remote controlled. You know, some electronic system.”

  “So you might. Subterfuge and sleight of hand have been my friends these past centuries. I must admit, the proliferation of electronic devices has made it easier to disguise my talents.”

  Effie shook her head slowly. Then she closed her eyes tightly, breathing in through her nose. He suspected she was counting. Cracking one eye open, she squinted at him. “Am I dreaming? Because this feels like a dream.”

  “I promise you, you are awake.”

  The eye squeezed shut again. She muttered something that sounded like “I’m too tired for this”, then gave herself a little shake.

  “Right. So immortals have mental powers. Can you read human minds?”

  Sebastian nodded. “Though not as you’re thinking. And no,” he added with a faint grin, “I’m not reading what you’re thinking. We can generally pick up emotions from mortals. Mortals, on the whole, do not have enough mental energy to emit anything more than that, certainly not coherent and articulate thought. It takes power to spread your mind outside yourself. That’s what we do. We can push our minds beyond our bodies to taste the mental energy around us. Mostly, though, that’s exhausting, so we remain inside our natural barriers to shield ourselves. Only empaths have minds strong enough to stand the constant bombardment.”

  Effie squinted at him, considering what he’d told her. Slowly, she nodded. “That… sort of makes sense. And what about vampires? You said they have mind control?”

  “Yes, to a lesser extent. Some vampires barely have any mental abilities. Those ones don’t tend to last very long. Mind control helps, you see, to hide what they are.”

  “Hide what they are?” Effie gave him an alarmed look. “How do they hide drinking someone to death?”

  “Perhaps that would be a bit beyond the average vampire.” He conceded. “A gifted vampire can drink blood from a glass and convince the humans around them that it is wine. Despite what some films or books might suggest, the two liquids are not easy to confuse.”

  “Vampires do that often? Drink blood out of a glass, I mean?”

  Sebastian shrugged. “A vampire will drink blood any way they can get it. Though, I will admit, few have the control to transfer the blood of their victim to a glass before drinking it.”

  Bartholomew has that level of control. The dark thought swam through his mind, bringing with it the images of the vampire’s safe and his secret stash of preserved blood. Perhaps Barty had been using mind control on Effie to a limited degree to disguise what he drank. He eyed Effie, who was frowning thoughtfully. Was now the right time to bring up Bartholomew? Or Roberto, as she called him?

  Before he could make up his mind, Henry walked back into the room.

  “Catarina says she’s on her way to Florence.” He did not look happy about it.

  Sebastian nodded. “Good. We’ll need her help if we’re going to capture Bartholomew.”

  “Bartholomew?” Effie interrupted. They turned to her. She was sitting tensely on the edge of her seat.

  “That’s what you call Roberto, isn’t it?”

  This could get tricky. Henry sent to Sebastian. Seeing the suspicion that had stolen over Effie’s face, he had to agree with his friend. Effie was not going to like what they had to tell her about her Roberto.

  Effie realised that, despite all the answers they’d given her, she was still waiting for an answer to her most important question: what did they want with her?

  From the guilty expression that flashed across Henry’s face, she suspected she wouldn’t like the answer. Sebastian was, as she was beginning to get used to, inscrutable.

  Suspecting she’d get more information out of Henry than his taciturn friend, she directed her next question at him.

  “Why are you interested in me and Roberto?”

  “Ah, yes.” Henry said, looking a little uncomfortable. “I suppose that was the point of this little conversation.”

  Effie waited. She was not going to let him bluster his way out of this. Surprisingly, though, it was Sebastian who spoke next.

  “You’ve stayed with Roberto for a time. When, if ever, did you see him eat?”

  She shot him a quick glance. When did she see Roberto eat? All the time. He was always drinking those shakes of his. Then she remembered what they had just been talking about.

  “What are you trying to get me to think? That Roberto is a vampire? He can’t be. I’ve seen him drink energy shakes all the time.”

  “Energy shakes like these?” Sebastian reached behind him to where a bag had been slung on the dining room table. Rummaging inside, he pulled out some of the bags of some thick red liquid. He handed it over to Effie. She took it from him distrustfully, then nearly dropped it. It looked disgusting and felt worse. Dark, muddy red, it was thick and gloopy. She was glad it was sealed up. To think she’d been sharing a flat with this stuff.

  “Urgh. I always thought the shakes smelt bad but I never actually got a look at what was in them.”

  “Do you know what’s in it?” Sebastian pressed.

  Effie shook her head. She didn’t really want to know, either.

  “We don’t know what else he put in it but the main ingredient, we can be sure, is human blood.”

  Effie dropped the bag. It landed with a splat on the floor. Knowing what he’d told her, she couldn’t unsee it. There were few liquids that looked like that.

  “He’s a vampire.” She breathed. Guilt, horror and fury roared up within her. She felt like a traitor. She felt like a fool. She hated feeling like either.

  Effie met Sebastian’s eyes. He was watching her closely, waiting for her reaction. She stood up abruptly. Henry and Sebastian leapt to their feet with her.

  “Did he kill anyone? While I was working with him? Did he catch and drink from someone?”

  “How long were you working with him?” Henry asked.

  “At least ten months.”

  “Then yes, most likely. I’ve never heard of a vampire who could have lasted that long without drinking live blood.”

  Her mind flinched away from his words. She’d been working with a murderer all that time. People had died and she’d had no idea.

  “Effie,” Henry said gently. “There was no way you could have known. Bartholomew is an old vampire with some skill in mental suggestion. He could have been fooling you all this time and you would have been powerless to resist him.”

  “Well.” Sebastian’s lips twisted. “Not quite helpless.”

  Henry shot him a sideways glare. “Not helping.” He growled from the corner of his mouth.

  “What do you mean?” Effie asked, wary again.

  Henry made to answer but Sebastian cut across him.

  “We are not just interested in you because of your connection to Bartholomew. We are interested in you, Effie.”

  “What? You think I’m a vampire?” She asked, the scoff in her voice not quite hiding a tremor.

  “Not a vampire, no. But you could be an immortal. Effie, we think you are a potential immortal.”

  Effie’s mind went blank and she sat back down, hard.

  6

  An immortal? Her? When had she gone down the rabbit hole? Because she felt like she was wading through mad hatters and Cheshire cats.

  Vaguely, she was aware of Henry berating Sebastian. Something about being a tactless idiot.

  Something touched her arm. Without thinking, she flinched away. Sebastian, who had touched her, stepped back, his face cl
osing off. But in that split second, she thought she saw something incredibly tender in his eyes. It was gone now, his face once more an impassive front to the world.

  What secrets are you hiding, she found herself thinking, behind that impenetrable mask?

  She swallowed before the question could find its way out of her mouth. What right had she to ask that of someone who had two and a half thousand years of secrets in their head?

  She looked away, feeling oddly ashamed and lonely and forced herself to focus on the situation she’d found herself in.

  She was revising her opinion that drugs weren’t involved. Either that, or they’d made some terrible mistake. There had never been any indication of her being something other than what she was: a very ordinary, unremarkable woman.

  Which begged the question…

  “How do you know?”

  Henry paused mid rant. “Sorry?”

  “How do you know that I’m a possible immortal?”

  Henry and Sebastian looked at each other.

  “There’s a test we can do to see if your blood reacts to us.” Henry began hesitantly. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Potential immortals also have some awareness of when an immortal is using their ability. They’re like full immortals in that sense.”

  “So…What? You mean, back in the flat, I wasn’t supposed to feel you leading me around like a puppet?” Effie glared at Sebastian. He didn’t look in the least apologetic. In fact, Sebastian just looked impatient. He scowled at his friend.

  “Stop putting it off, Henry.” Turning to her, he said. “Do you remember that I said some immortals can be reborn even after a true death?”

  “Yes…?” He might have said something like that.

  “We believe that you are one such immortal.” Sebastian told her, to another of Henry’s exasperated sighs.

  Once more, Effie was struck dumb with incredulity. This had been weird enough when they were going on about her being a potential immortal. But she wasn’t just a potential immortal, oh no. She was a reincarnated potential immortal.