by Drew Hayes
Though I heard her words, my mind was still reeling. A month without blood? More than two or three days and I would feel the thirst, and within hours, my body would begin to ache as the cravings grew stronger by the minute. During those first days, before I’d lined up my supplier, the most I’d made it was four days, and I could already feel the beginnings of my sanity fraying at the edges from the endless thirst and pain. I didn’t want to imagine how much worse it got from there. Two weeks would have been a living hell. A month was more than I even wanted to wrap my mind around.
“Is there any way we can help you? Make it seem like this wasn’t your fault?” I asked.
“Fault doesn’t really matter. They just have to punish someone when there’s a failure,” Lillian replied, clearing off the last of her eggs moments before the waiter came through the door with a fresh plate for her. “Make an example for the rest of the clan. The House of Turva hasn’t exactly kept up with the times in terms of motivational strategies. Like I said, though, it’s fine. Far from my first time dealing with this.”
“Maybe that’s true, but it’s certainly not fine.” I did some mental math, thinking through what I was trying to accomplish, and how much time I’d need. Probably weeks, if I were to do things properly. Though, if properly meant someone else being punished for my longshot idea, it seemed I would have to cut a few corners. “In three nights, when it’s time to report back, I want you to tell them the truth. That I’m the vampire Petre is looking for, that my accounting service is just an accounting service, all of it.”
“You’re giving up on the joining a clan thing?” Lillian asked.
“Not quite yet. I’ve got a meeting tonight that might shed some light on the viability of it. Regardless, I won’t let you take the punishment for helping us. If I can’t make it work in time, then that’s on me, not you. Go back to the Turvas as a successful infiltrator. That’s the very least I can do to thank you for all of your help.”
“Freddy,” Krystal said softly, “you do remember that trying to join a clan is already really hard for an outsider, right? Even if it were doable, you’d probably need weeks to convince them to take you on, jumping through hoops to prove you were worth a slot.”
“If it’s already nearly impossible, then trying to do it in three days instead of a few weeks probably won’t alter the odds that much,” I told her. “Chances are we’ll still end up on a jet to Boarback. I just want to see this through.”
I realized that Lillian was the one who’d fallen into silence this time, examining me carefully from her spot at the other end of the breakfast table. She’d even stopped eating, and was just pointlessly poking her eggs with her fork as she mulled over my words.
“If that’s really how you want it, Fredrick, then I’ll give them the rundown in three nights. But if you change your mind before then, just let me know. I made the offer, and I meant it; I can buy you more time.”
“I greatly appreciate the sentiment, but I’m afraid the price on that offer is simply too high.” Chancing a look at my watch, I realized that with the sun setting, I’d need to head out soon to make my meeting. While there was plenty of time until ten, Charlotte Manor was located some ways from town, and getting through the ceremony and security at Richard’s office always took longer than I expected. Even after all my visits, they were still wary of letting a vampire into the heart of a therian stronghold.
“Beg everyone’s pardon, but if you’ll excuse me, I need to go get ready to head out,” I announced, rising from the table, my own food barely touched. Even Charlotte’s cooking couldn’t settle the case of nerves I was dealing with.
“Just let me finish off this plate and I’ll be ready to go.” Lillian bent down closer to the table, fork in prime egg-shoveling position.
“No need, take your time and enjoy the meal,” I advised her. “I’m going to have to leave you behind for this meeting.”
“That’s probably not going to fly,” Lillian said. “Remember, I’m supposed to be your new assistant, your shadow, following you at every turn. What do I tell Petre if one of the clan sees you out on the town without me?”
“The truth,” I replied. “That I was going to have a meeting with the King of the West. By now, they know enough about Gideon to be aware that he wouldn’t tolerate a tag-a-long in one of his meetings.”
“And if they ask how you’re able to meet with him despite the fact that vampires can’t handle their draconic aura?” Lillian pressed.
“Right . . . I forgot they knew about that.” With everything on my plate, it was getting hard to keep track of how well-informed my opponents were.
“We just moved to a town with an ancient dragon; it came up in conversation,” Lillian said. From across the table, I saw Krystal chuckle, and for a moment, I even thought I caught a smirk on Arch’s face.
“Tell them Freddy dealt with a proxy.” With her giggles dying down, Krystal had apparently decided to be helpful. “That’s how the dragons dealt with vampires in the old days; they had a representative come stand in their place and have the conversation via telepathy enchantments with the proxy. Nowadays, most just use Bluetooth and a cell phone, but the tradition remains for the rare times when a dragon meets with a vampire. And since the proxy is essentially the dragon, you’d still have to show it the same respect by not bringing an intern along.”
“Trainee,” Lillian corrected.
“Spy, if you want to be a dick about it,” Krystal shot back.
“Right then, let’s just say I dealt with a proxy.” Something told me that if I didn’t right the conversation to a more productive path quickly, it might spiral beyond saving. “Lillian, will that sell upstream?”
“Don’t see why not, though maybe it’s best if you just try not to get spotted by any other vampires,” she suggested. “The less I have to talk to Petre before it’s decision time, the better off you are.”
“Well, I’ve managed to spend most of my life slipping around unnoticed,” I said. “Maybe just this once, it can be an asset.”
“Personally, I think it’s the sweater vest. Who pays attention to someone wearing a sweater vest?” Though Krystal was the one to speak the words, it didn’t escape my notice as I left the dining room that everyone else at the table seemed to be nodding along in agreement.
3.
To my surprise, when I arrived at Richard’s building, I wasn’t shown up to his penthouse/throne room at the top like usual. Instead, I was frisked by therian security, who glared at me stonily while checking to ensure I hadn’t brought any weapons with me. This pat-down was far less extensive than usual, I noticed, probably because while a firearm might be an issue for Richard, all it would do to Gideon was annoy. When security was finally done, I was taken up a different elevator than the one I normally used, to a floor that looked familiar—though all the generic office floors seemed that way. I was escorted down a hallway, coming to an office near a corner, and I suddenly realized exactly where I was before the door had even opened.
This was the room where Gideon had been held captive several months earlier. Where Bubba, Amy, and I had hunted him down, breaking into the magical cage while therians from another tribe slammed on the door, trying to kill us before we could free him. Even if I hadn’t been able to place the dull gray carpet and open layout, I certainly recognized the broken remains of the cube where Gideon had been trapped. They were there, just as I’d last seen them when fleeing the building. All that was different was that now a desk and a few chairs were set up in front of the twisted metallic remnants of a trap strong enough to ensnare a dragon.
Sitting behind the desk, drawing in a coloring book, was Gideon, whose child-like appearance belied the tremendous power and knowledge resting inside him. The door whispered shut behind me, and I realized that the therians had left me alone in the room. Not even they liked to be around Gideon any more than was strictly necessary. Since I didn’t have the luxury of fleeing, I decided to say something and start things off. Given ho
w nervous I was, I hardly think I can be blamed for grasping the easiest conversational option available.
“I thought you’d have cleared that out by now.” I nodded to the massive remains of his cage, as if he didn’t know what I was talking about already.
Setting down his crayon, Gideon looked up from the coloring book with a stare meant to scrutinize. It was unsettling to see on a child’s face, though I was slowly getting used to that effect when dealing with Gideon. It beat his aura any day of the year.
“Interesting.” Slowly, Gideon hopped off the chair, raised to its highest so he could see over the desk, and approached me. Every step was tentative, as if he thought I might bolt should he move too fast. Eventually, he got within a few feet, close enough that I could reach out and rumple his hair, were I so suicidally inclined. “This has already proven to be a fascinating meeting. I wasn’t sure you’d be able to withstand my aura anymore.”
“Why wouldn’t I? You gave me your blood,” I reminded him.
“Indeed, and far more than a drop on that night.” He gestured absentmindedly to the cage’s remains, never taking his eyes off me. “But from the reports I received, all that power had been used up, burned through in my escape. The effects of such gifts are temporary, as you must know by now. Even the drop I gave you would never have lasted so long, were you the sort to actually use your abilities. When the draconic power in your veins is tapped out, so too should go your immunity to my aura. Yet here you stand, unbothered by my presence.”
“I do still find you very intimidating,” I said, not sure if I was trying to reassure Gideon that I was still meek and cowardly or that he had more than enough mojo to be terrifying.
“That is because you are a being of logic,” Gideon replied. “Of course you fear what is stronger. Nonetheless, this makes for a fascinating study. Never has a blood-eater tasted so much of a dragon before—at least, not a dragon of my power—nor have they been used to wield their magic. It seems there are some lingering aftereffects, aside from just the ability to dine with proper silver.”
“You knew about that?”
Gideon turned and walked back to his desk, motioning for me to follow. “You saved me that night, Fred. Not my life, no, but certainly my pride. And, more importantly, perhaps you even aided Sally by freeing me. True, I am not the kindest or most cuddly of creatures in the world, yet even I see fit to look in on those who have done me a good turn. I even agree to take their meetings, if I’m curious enough.”
“And I appreciate that,” I said, taking a seat in one of the open chairs in front of the desk. Again, my gaze slipped to the cage, and I could see Gideon’s violet eyes tracking my own.
“I keep it here to remind anyone I meet with how futile it is to try and go against me,” Gideon said, offering the explanation to my opening question. “Almost none know of your part in my escape that night, which makes it all the easier to build my reputation. Defeating another elder dragon’s carefully constructed trap is no small feat, and the name of Gideon has only grown more feared since I accomplished it.”
“Do you really need intimidation tactics? I mean . . . you’re you.” That was, sadly, the best way I could think to phrase my thoughts in the moment. I didn’t want to fall over myself and gush; besides, we both knew I’d seen how deep his well of power went. The idea of using intimidation tricks felt like ridiculous overkill.
“Strong as I am, there are others out there who are my equal, if not my better,” Gideon said. “Though these methods are not for them. Should we ever clash, the very landscape of the Earth would be changed, which is why we all tend to avoid each other as much as possible. No, I keep it here for the smaller threats, the nuisances. So many that would waste my time and their lives never do, simply because I show them the futility of such actions. Power is useful, Fred, never doubt that, but far more useful is the perception of power. I’ve lived a very long time, and I can say with certainty that the easiest fights to win are those that never start.”
Since Gideon had just offered me the perfect segue, I hurriedly leapt for it, determined to make the most of my time with him. Curiosity had gotten me in the door; there was no telling how long it would keep me there.
“It’s interesting that you bring that up, because I asked to meet you for essentially that purpose. I’m sure you know about the arrival of the House of Turva in Winslow—”
Gideon’s mouth pinched into a visible sneer, so I raced forward before he could cut me off.
“—and they’ve become interested in me as either a subject or a rival. Since I’m an abandoned vampire, there are many ways for them to come at me through the treaties, so I thought it would be worthwhile to look into joining a clan of my own. But no one knows a lot about them and their inner workings, except perhaps you, so I came here seeking counsel about what you knew of the various clans.”
The sneer had faded as I got further along, turning back to the same scrutinizing expression I’d seen when first walking in. He was searching me for something; though, what it was, I had no idea.
“Fred, do you believe that you and I are equal?”
“Absolutely not, sir.” My eyes widened, and I momentarily faced the very serious possibility that this might be my last few seconds of life, undead or otherwise. Offending a dragon like Gideon was not the sort of thing many lived to tell about. “I am keenly aware of how much more powerful and important you are, and I’m so sorry for wasting your time with my request. It was a move of pure desperation, and—”
“I think, perhaps, that something was lost in translation here.” Gideon was still calm, which wasn’t as reassuring as it should have been. I had no doubt he could kill me without any emotional fluctuation whatsoever; the only thing I’d ever seen rile Gideon up was Sally’s safety being threatened. But he also hadn’t made any aggressive movements, and that was somewhat more heartening. “What I mean is, do you believe we are equal for the turn you did for me in this very room? That my debt to you is paid in full?”
“Oh . . . then yes, I do. Our bargain was fulfilled. You asked for freedom, and I asked you to save my friends. We both honored the agreement, so I didn’t think there was any debt between us.”
Gideon’s eyes, for the first time since I’d met him, fell a few inches toward the ground, almost like he was a bit embarrassed by something. “You are incorrect, both on what I swore and on the topic of our equality. Though I accepted it in the heat of the moment due to limited time, the truth is that, that deal was not a fair one. I asked more than I gave, and while dracolings may take pleasure in such slights, we dragons hold ourselves to a higher code. Stealing, pillaging, ransacking, all of that is fair game, but in our bargains, we always seek to find equilibrium. There is still some debt between us, Fred, and that is the real reason why I took your meeting. I despise inequality, and I would like to remedy it as quickly as possible. So then, would you like me to take care of your problem?”
“That’s why I came here,” I said, no doubt visibly relieved. Gideon wanted to pay me back and I wanted to pump him for information, so this would work great for both of us.
“No, you came here for a temporary measure that would only incur more trouble for you. I’m not offering to tell you about the blood-eater clans. I’m offering to solve your problem. These creatures stepped foot in my town, and no doubt, they are scheming all manner of mischief. It will be little more than a slap on the wrist for me if I wipe them out.”
And that was when I finally realized what Gideon was actually offering. He would purge the entire House of Turva, kill every last one of them, just because he felt some debt to me. That was possibly the most terrifying prospect I’d ever heard, all the more so because I knew too well just how easily Gideon could do it. One word from me and by the morning sunrise, there would be no issues. No House of Turva. Likely, no other vampires would come to Winslow for a century or so after such a display. And, ashamed as I am to admit it, there was a fleeting moment where I wanted to let him do it. Take away
all the fear, and worry, and stress these invaders had caused. Mercifully, it lasted no longer than a moment before reality came crashing back in. Even if I believed that this would really be the end of it—which I didn’t—the guilt I’d feel over all those lives would utterly dwarf whatever issue I was dealing with currently.
“I’m grateful for the offer, really I am, but I think that might be a touch extreme. I’m sure the House of Turva has plenty of good people in it who don’t deserve to die just because I was scared. Besides, there are only so many vampire clans, right? The Agency is bound to be a little miffed if you wipe one off the map,” I said.
“It would get replaced eventually; every half-century or so, one ballsy blood-eater founds a new clan that actually manages to stick around. But it is not my place to dictate how I repay my debt,” Gideon said. “If information is what you want, then I’ll give it. Just know that this does not fully settle things between us. Perhaps you’d care for another few drops of blood?”
“Thanks, but no thanks. Your power is way too potent for me to handle. I kept snapping things in half for a week last time I got a drop.” I hadn’t meant it as a joke, but I caught site of Gideon snickering anyway.
“Very well, then just information for now. Though I doubt it will give you what you need, I shall tell you all I can remember of the various blood-eater clans dotting this county’s landscape,” Gideon said.
I yanked out a pen and pad of paper from my briefcase as Gideon started talking, jotting down every detail I could as quickly as he laid them out. There would be more questions later, when I knew enough to have an idea of what to ask about, but for the moment, I was content with simply absorbing a small bit of the ancient dragon’s expansive memory.
4.
“Twenty-eight active vampire clans in America, four of which were founded after the actual creation of the country and treaties. Of those, twelve have some pretty repugnant ideas about humanity as a whole and are kept in check only by the laws, which rules them out right off the bat. Two are pro human and vampire relations, but have a lot of bad history with therians. Three are openly about vampire superiority over other parahumans. And the other eleven are either too secretive or small to make waves in any direction, though there’s always a bit of scuttlebutt around them.”
