by Danae Ayusso
No, that wasn’t possible.
“Papà was killed in the line of duty,” I said. “He was the town sheriff and pulled over the wrong car and a shootout followed. I was nine years old.”
“Sorry to hear, Shawn. Your father sounds like he was a good lad, and that’s why he has a good daughter and son, regardless of the circumstances you’ve faced.”
It was a nice thought.
“Papà wasn’t a Necromancer,” I argued.
Connor smirked. “Are ya sure about that? Ya are familiar with the religions of Light because ya practice a religion of Light,” she said, her eyes moving over me. “The necklace ya wear, that ya are absently fingering in a soothing manner, where did ya get it?”
I pulled the pendant I was fingering up into my view and looked at it; it belonged Papà, had been passed down from generation to generation on his madre side, but she wasn’t immortal. I buried her shortly before Giovanni…
I buried all of them.
“Papà,” I whispered.
She nodded. “Aye. It is a totem of protection, a Necromancer totem, one that no vampire would be able to wear due to the silver and iron that it is made of and the blessing it possesses.”
That would have been nice to know before I put it on.
“You said Alder is a Necromancer,” I argued. “His eyes turned white, so did the big guy that wouldn’t entertain Vanni, and yet they are male.”
She nodded. “I did, their eyes did, and they are. They are some of the few. Alder is different and that is why he is untouchable,” she explained. “A pure blooded male Necromancer is a rare, rare thing to find, and even rarer is one being blessed with the Goddess’ immortal breath. Choosing to follow the path of Light or not, the Goddess blessed him. At one time, Alder was her chosen vessel, her Herald, the one that was blessed from his first breath to honor her and be worthy of her blessing. It is not often that the Goddess blesses a male, that her Herald does not become a Priestess in her Court. You, I suspect, are a Herald of the Goddess, of the Light, and because of what Andrei and Luka did, war will ensue. No one disrespects the Goddess like that, no one takes her Herald from her Court, especially one that has not been taken into the Court of Light or been embraced by her people yet.”
What a lovely fairytale she was spinning, but it had nothing to do with me.
No one wanted to embrace me, I wasn’t meant for more, and I was the very last person that one would consider special.
“How could they all die? Everyone in my family if they are of the Light?” I struggled to articulate.
“Immortality means different things to every race and species. Necromancers of the non-Shadow Generation, their lives are longer than humans. They are just as delicate as humans though. They die easily enough. Vampires, they are harder to kill, though their lives can be taken easily enough by the right person. The stolen breath of the Goddess is so much more than the breath of life, it is a blessing that encompasses so much more… I do not possess it as Alder does, neither does the big guy, Frankie, your brother was trying to play with. If the Goddess wanted us dead, we’d drop dead. With the snap of her fingers our Light could effortlessly be extinguished. That is how it is for everyone, supernatural, mythical, or human. It’s all the bloody same. Alder though, like you, are different and special regardless of what that bloody wanker Luka was trying to lead you to believe.”
Now she’s starting to scare me.
“Necromancers have power over the dead, those that straddle the abyss, and the corporally challenged, amongst other things,” Connor said, her eyes moving over me many times, trying to redirect the conversation since I was sitting in wide-eyed fear. “Vampires fear us because they have, in a sense, one foot in the bloody grave thus they are in our domain,” she mused, her eyes white.
That thought was terrifying.
“Are you controlling me now? Is that why I’m eating everything in sight?” I asked.
Connor chuckled, her eyes returning to normal. “No, I couldn’t if I wanted to.”
“Are you sure?” I pressed, worried that I was acting like this purely for her amusement.
Again, she chuckled. “Positive. Those of Light that are turned to a Child of the Dark, are immune to Necromancers and their magic. Hence the necklace you’re wearing and are immune to. If Luka would have touched it,” she paused them moaned with an evil smirk. “Perhaps I should borrow it and make a house call,” she said with a demonic chuckle.
“Please don’t,” I whispered.
“Since ya asked so nicely,” Connor said with a wink. “I’m not controlling ya. You’re merely hungry, Shawn. That’s why you’re gorging yourself like there’s no tomorrow. From what I understand, newborn vampires, they contain a lot of human blood. Over time, as they evolve and mature, that human blood is consumed and replaced by evolved vampire blood. Normally, when one is first turned, they are completely blood crazed. They think of only devouring flesh and consuming blood.”
I gagged at the mention of devouring flesh and consuming blood.
The only thing I wanted to devour was a ton more of Alder’s amazing tarts!
Connor nodded her agreement to my disgust. “Their eyes are red until that human blood is purged, then their eyes are mirror-like grey so they cannot see themselves in the eyes of others. It is a curse of sorts. Then, when fully matured, if they are lucky and strong enough, their eyes return to their human eye color. Not many do. It takes unimaginably strong venom lines to get your human eye color back… That’s why Andrei and Luka don’t have grey eyes. They are sired from the root of vampires, thus their eyes changed back. It’ll help ya hide amongst vamps,” she assured me. “That is one of the reasons why ya are so very strange, Shawn.”
Okay, now Tybalt and his confusion as to why my eyes weren’t red and I was so rational, despite the situation being what it was, made sense.
“So I’m a Shadow Generation non-practicing Necromancer that was turned into a Vampire?” I asked at length before Connor motioned for me to mind my tongue moments before Alder entered with a large tray filled with food in hand.
“Don’t mind us,” he said. “Holy Mother of Light, you ate all of that already?!” Alder asked.
Giovanni floated in. “That’s nothing. Sis can put down an entire buffet by herself. I’m surprised she doesn’t weigh a metric ton.”
I glared at him.
Alder chuckled, taking the dishes I neatly piled up for him. “I can appreciate one with an appetite. I’ll get working on the next course for you. Your brother is adorable and should be simply ashamed of himself for his shameless flirting,” he said.
“But he isn’t,” Giovanni pipped in, and Alder blushed. “You good, Sis?”
No, not in the least.
I nodded, my mouth already filled with whatever it was Alder brought out.
“And you have the balls to call me Meatball,” he huffed, “when your mouth is currently filled with balls.”
I choked, looking at him with wide eyes.
Alder chuckled. “Mitarashi dango; grilled rice flour tofu balls with a sweet soy glaze and toasted sesame seeds. I’ll bring in more coffee.”
“Thank you,” I said before shoving more of the grilled rice flour tofu balls in my mouth.
“Don’t forget about me,” Connor called out when they headed from the room, shaking her empty flask. “And to answer your question, I’m not saying that. What I am saying is a Child of Light, when forced into the Dark, the Light is extinguished upon their rebirth into the Dark. What little Light they had within is extinguished by blood, the blood they must consume in order to survive. It isn’t easy to turn a Child of Light to a Child of the Dark. To turn a Necromancer is nearly impossible, even those with little knowledge of their origins or of the magic that created them, it is near impossible to be reborn into the Dark. Think of it as a battle between the night and dawn.”
It was fascinating, the way she worded things, and it made complete and utter sense to me.
Terrified th
e crap out of me, almost literally if I weren’t incapable of pooping with my rebirth into the Dark, but it was still fascinating.
“And that is all I can say on the matter of your siring,” Connor said when Alder entered with some coffees and a fifth of whisky that he tossed to her.
It’s more than obvious that was how I came to be a new, card carrying member of the Dark, and speaking of it in mixed company wasn’t up for discussion.
“You commented that you and Andrei work together,” I started, taking one of the coffees. “Thank you, Alder. What do you and Andrei do?”
“Oh this is going to be good,” Alder commented with a chuckle, heading from the room, ignoring the middle finger his cousin gave him.
Connor shook her head, irritated over her cousin’s antics. “Andrei and I are what they call Vigiles Urbani. It means Watchmen of the City. Most call us Marshals though due to youth’s lack of poetry and their ignorance to the romance of battle. Think of us as the Judge, Jury, and Executioner in the region for all things of a mythical nature.”
“Like cops?” I asked between bites.
She nodded then shrugged. “Depends on the day and the issue, but sometimes it’s like being a copper, other times a babysitter, sometimes a magistrate, barrister, or the walking embodiment of death. To keep it simple, but apply it to worldwide, each region has a dedicated group of Marshals that patrol, oversee, and prevent uprisings or shit to roll over into the world of man. Before the Vigiles Urbani, witch hunts and the Church of Man got out of control whenever our world mistakenly rolled over into theirs. As that cunt I knocked out was trying to explain in the worst way possible, this world you’re new to isn’t new to ya. It’s always been around ya. Some locations are more supernatural and mythical creature friendly. In the Northwest there is Seattle, Washington, Portland, Oregon, Vancouver, B.C., Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, and Missoula, Montana. Each has its own reasons as to why it’s our world friendly.
“There are higher concentrations of vampires in the Northwest due to less sun, for obvious reasons, but in the south you’ll get a lot more demony things that don’t do the cold even though they don’t like the sun. Warlocks, Witches, and Elementals rather fancy the south for some reason. In Utah and Southern Idaho there is a preposterous amount of demons, the same in any religion heavy populace area really. The Vatican is solely filled with demons and fallen. How that works, I couldn’t begin to imagine. The religions of Man go hand in hand with demons and darkened entities,” she explained when I opened my mouth to ask just that. “They think they’re rambling a prayer to their Heavenly Father thou art in Heaven in Latin, when in actuality the bloody wankers are summoning a bloody demon from the abyss and don’t even realize it. Good times for all!”
Tone noted.
“The Vigiles Urbani that deal with the heavier demon concentration areas are mainly Fallen and Daemons themselves unlike in the other territories where they have representatives for each concentration in the region. In this region, it is oversaw by a representative of those prevalent in the area: Vampire, Necromancer, Werewolf, Witch, a Warlock that is the biggest wanker you’ve ever met, an interbreed Fae that is one powerful creature that even I stay away from, and an annoyingly inept Wizard that is in trouble for trying to take over the world, again.”
Whoa.
“Europe, traditionally, has more practitioners and less fae, but on the isles of Europe you have higher concentrations of fae and the corporally challenged. I’m sure there’s a reason for it, one that I don’t feel the need to get into at the moment,” she said. “The Northeast is inundated with Vampires and Warlocks, Witches not so much after the trials; New York and New Jersey is a split between Warlocks and Vampires, and the surrounding states are prevalent with them. There’s a few rural packs out there, mainly those that follow the Church of Man and live an existence without the outside world.”
My eyes widened. “Are you saying the Amish are werewolves?” I asked.
“Why does it surprise you?” Connor retorted.
True.
“England is Werewolf prevalent due to warring factions and packs, but that’s a history lesson for someone of the wolf variety to give ya. Unlike that annoying creature that you’re stuck with, I can’t recite the foundation families of every mythical race out there or tell ya the rules verbatim. That asshole signed up to be a Marshal, I did not. It’s my punishment.”
Interesting, but not really helpful at the moment.
“So Andrei signed up to be a cop and you were punished and made one?” I wanted to clarify.
Connor nodded. “Yes, in a sense. My punishment is to enforce the very laws I broke, that I disregarded, for a century. That way, I would never forget them again. Being a Marshal ties your soul to the rules ya have to uphold. If I break them, I die. Andrei, on the other hand, willingly signed up. There was no reason for him to, that I know of, and the Queen Vampire made a huge scene because of it, but he refused to sit on a throne that was never really his and bark commands at people that were forced to listen to him. Bloody irony and hypocritical since that’s exactly what he does as a Marshal.”
That, doesn’t surprise me in the least, but I have a very hard time picturing Andrei barking commands at anyone other than Luka and me.
“What is a Nightling?” I asked at length.
Connor shook her head before taking a long drink from the bottle of whisky Alder brought her.
“That bad?” I surmised.
She made a face. “Aye. I shouldn’t have said anything. If it becomes public knowledge, yeah, it’ll prove to be real fucking bad. Because you’re young ya have no control over it. That’s dangerous for ya. I’d suggest keeping your hands to yourself until Andrei pulls his head out of his ass and tells ya just how very bloody dangerous ya are.”
My eyes widened.
“Why won’t you tell me?” I tried to ask, but it came out with as a timid whisper.
Connor cocked an eyebrow. “Because I know enough about ya to know that you’ll try to use it on me. I don’t want that, Shawn. I like my bloody sins exactly where they are. I don’t need some child absorbing them, trying to give me absolution of the soul, taking a day or a year off her new immortal life because she thinks she’s helping me towards the Light. I won’t do that to ya. I’m many things, Shawn, but scared of the sins I’ve committed and harboring isn’t one of them.”
That wasn’t what I was expecting her to say, but it told me, in a roundabout way, of what a Nightling was and why everyone freaked out when they shook my hand.
I really wish I hadn’t asked.
Giovanni appeared at my side and smiled. “Full yet? I hope not since Alder cooked his sexy little ass off for you,” he teased, wagging his brows.
It was the distraction that I desperately needed, and of course he was going to make it all about him in typical Giovanni fashion.
And it was exactly what I needed and my pesky big brother knew it.
The rest of dinner I sat quietly listening to Giovanni entertain Alder and Connor.
I had lost my appetite, not that it had stopped me from gorging myself out of guilt. I enjoyed seeing my brother so animated and full of life, which was ironic considering he was dead, and it helped to push the absolving of sins thing from my mind. And since that was out of my mind, it made me curious as to why Andrei was being quiet all of a sudden. He hadn’t flipped me crap in days, and I thought for certain he would have had a lot to say when Connor started telling me all of the things that he hadn’t. It made me curious if he was preoccupied with Marshal work, and that somehow silenced him in my mind or my mind to his.
“Are you okay?” Giovanni asked, stealing my attention.
Yes, my annoying big brother can read me rather well.
I nodded; yes, something was wrong but it wasn’t the right company to mention what in.
Alder looked at his watch. “Shawn, if you want to beat the sun you might want to head out. Some cut it too close and get caught in it. You don’t want to experience th
at. It’s an unimaginably painful way to die from what I understand.”
Giovanni dramatically sighed. “If barbequing my baby sister wasn’t a risk, I would throw a fit because I’m having a fabulous time.”
I giggled; his diva impression always made me giggle and smile when I was upset.
“Thank you for the amazing food and coffee, Alder,” I said, getting to my feet and pulled the wad of money Connor took from Luka from my pocket and tossed it to him.
Amused, Alder took it then his eyes widened when he saw it was a roll of hundreds.
“Shawn, I can’t take this. It’s way too much,” he argued, trying to give it back.
“It’s not nearly enough,” I informed him, and before I thought it through, I hugged him.
Alder’s eyes widened before he chuckled and he hugged me back. “You’re the only vamp allowed in here, and there will always be a table for you and your brother,” he promised, kissing the top of my head.
Instantly I pulled away from him.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to touch you like that,” I said, tucking my hands in my pockets to keep them to myself. “I didn’t hurt you or freak you out, did I?”
He smiled, caressing my head. “Not at all. Do not worry, Young Nightling. I have no sins to absolve by mistake, thus a hug I will never deny you.”
A smile filled my face. “Thank you. Don’t worry about the money. Use it to buy yourself something pretty. Or if you want to go the less selfish route, if you ever see someone that needs a meal, a coffee, or just a shred of decency, put it on my tab,” I said.
Alder chuckled. “Will do, Boss,” he teased with a wink. “Cousin, escort Shawn and Giovanni home.”
Connor groaned; she was pretty lit by then.
“You might get to kill something,” he offered.
