by Peter Dawes
Ian laughed and Valeria’s smile broadened. “That’s what they would have you believe. But you are ours. You always have been and always will be. You only think you slipped away from me, but hear my words. I know at the exact moment you will change your mind. And at that moment, you will beg me for what I have to offer you. You have all the direction I need you to have. Now, you just need to take your next step.”
“This is your true destiny,” Ian added. “And you’re following the path splendidly.”
“Without even knowing it,” Sabrina said, nodding.
Valeria sobered while the other two chuckled, their voices fading into the backdrop while I honed in on her. She straightened to a full stand, her eyes boring through me as though they could tap into the depths of my soul. “You can’t fight your true nature for long,” she said, one hand lifting and a finger pointing at me. “You know what you are, deep down inside.”
“Assassin,” Sabrina said.
“A god among immortals,” Ian inserted.
“The vampire Flynn,” Valeria finished, flashing fangs as her lips parted in a wide grin. “Our devil in sheep’s clothing.”
***
“No.”
I shouted the word loud enough to jar me from whatever had assailed me. The sight of my room swiftly vanished, my eyes truly opening this time and beholding the guest room at Grigore’s coven house. Shivering, I clutched onto one of the pillows, still clothed in what I had worn out heaven only knew how long ago. My eyelids fluttered, with one half of my brain demanding rest and the other refusing to enter the dreamworld again.
“Is he awake?” a male voice asked, standing nearby, but out of sight.
“I saw him stir.” The responder, I recognized. Emil. He walked closer. “Peter?” he asked, touching my shoulder.
“What?” I spat, barely suppressing the urge to hiss.
“You have to eat, you’re injured. We couldn’t feed you while you were asleep.”
“No.” My eyes clenched shut. At the same time, the notion of eating something started a tingle creeping up my spine, one laden with temptation. I rolled onto my stomach and groaned. “Leave me alone. I do not need anything.”
“Nonsense. Peter, please.”
“Stop!”
It was too late, however. I turned my head and noticed Emil holding a glass, filled to the brim with blood. His gaze bore a heavy amount of concern, only made more prominent as he reacted to my tone. I burrowed into myself and tried to hide my face again, but my fangs had already been brought out. “Emil, I beg you to leave me be,” I said.
“I will leave this next to the bed.” His footsteps brought him closer and for the first moment, I realized how dangerous of a prospect that was for him. I came within moments of telling him not to come any closer, but he set down the glass and retreated before I could issue the words. Within seconds, I was left alone, just as I had asked, with one glass of blood.
And I consumed it with vigor.
As it slid down my throat in lusty gulps, I lost myself to the moment, desperate and hungry for anything else I could plunge my teeth into. Somehow, I found myself back in bed, arms wrapped around my chest, my body shuddering worse than it had when in the throes of detoxification. I fought sleep as long as I could, but the exhaustion of mending and struggling forced me into a restless slumber. Minutes and hours escaped me, until finally, I woke into lucidity.Whatever storm I had just weathered, for the first time since my encounter with Valeria, I felt attached to both mind and body.
Even if the body itself was still dreadfully weak.
For several hours, I laid staring at the opposite wall. Gradually, I made it to a seated position and sometime after that, I managed to a stand and lumbered into the adjoining bathroom for a shower. Days of grime washed down the drain, with the last bits of debris from the forest. If I had any cause to doubt how real the encounter had been, the remnant I purged bore testimony to it. As did the twinge of hunger still nipping at my heels.
‘All this even with a hunt beforehand.’ The thought spurred to mind while I dried off and dressed. A whisper reminded me that hunting had directly preceded the return of my blood cravings, but I dismissed the notion with a flick of my hand. I had weathered a disquieting encounter – and nearly stated the admonition out loud, but found myself grateful I had hesitated. As I emerged from the bathroom, I spied the legs of a tailored suit and dress shoes of a person seated on my bed before rounding the corner and taking in the full sight of them.
When I did, however, I frowned. “Dear brother,” I said. “When did you get in?”
Robin sat with his hands folded on his lap, a somber expression on his face as he regarded the floor. His chest expanded as he drew in a deep breath. It was not until he exhaled that he lifted his head, eyes shifting to me with a subdued smile emerging. “Ah, brother. I am glad to see you up and about,” he said. Robin pointed at the table with one hand. “Have a drink and take a seat. We’ll talk as you feed.”
I perked an eyebrow and frowned when I glanced at the table. The sight of another glass of blood both unnerved and frustrated me, and yet I could not deny the sudden draw I had to it. “You did not have to trouble yourself.”
“You had quite the evening recently, from what I’ve heard. I hardly see this as troubling myself.”
“I wish I could disagree.” Sighing, I walked over to the table and pulled out one of the chairs. For as much as I wanted to take the glass and devour it, I forced myself to ignore it. “Did you just arrive tonight?”
“No. Two nights ago, in fact. I came to check on you last evening, but you were still asleep. Emil told me you had been in and out of rest and acting erratic since returning.”
“And how long ago was that?”
“A week.” Robin raised an eyebrow. “You had me worried.”
“I apologize, brother.” Swallowing hard, I rubbed my hands together and stared at them. “Had I been in any condition to call, I assure you I would have. As it is, I feel self-conscious about being here that long. No doubt, Emil and the others must despise having to accommodate me. I am responsible for their maker’s death.”
“They are a hospitable lot. And too understanding for their own good. I believe their acting master wishes you gone, but he’s distracted with formalities while the rest of them grieve.”
Guilt assailed me, making the wafting odor of blood distasteful regardless of how much I craved it. Rising to a stand, I walked toward the bed and sat beside my brother, avoiding eye contact with him in favor of staring toward the table. “This entire trip has been an utter failure,” I said after a moment’s pause. “I have not done a thing right since arriving in Bucharest.”
“Harder than it appears to be an elder?” Robin asked. I glanced up in time to spy him smirking, albeit faintly.
I tried to reciprocate the grin, but found my taste for it lacking as well. “Difficult to be a vampire in general when you have been anything but in weeks.”
“And you thought yourself prepared for it.”
“I thought myself prepared for a lot and found the truth to be quite to the contrary.”
“So I see.” A hand rested on my shoulder, tentative at first. When I failed to shrug it off, it settled more firmly. “I was a fool to let you go on your own.”
“As though I gave you any other option,” I said, the words punctuated by a sardonic chuckle.
“No, you didn’t, but I didn’t fight you as much as I could have. I couldn’t exactly deny the logic of dividing our energies rather than forcing you to sit still. You would have gone mad with idle hands.”
My eyes shut. “I fear I exchanged one form of madness for another.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have not felt myself in days. Simply that and nothing more.” My thoughts turned dark, the whispers returning enough for me to lift my lids again and fight off a litany of chills threatening to crawl down my spine. Words danced on the tip of my tongue I could not give unction to, even though I despe
rately wished to speak them. Breathing in deep, I grasped for other things to say. “At least we have another scroll. This should help your translating.”
“Dr. Singh sent me along with the books I would need to finish my work. That at a pretty penny, but they’ll make for interesting additions to my library.”
“Your library?”
“I still have a small house in Kilkenny where I store my books. Granted, it’s been eons since I’ve been to it, but I am confident I will return to find everything as I left it.”
“Well, at least you will be prepared if you ever need to translate medieval documents again.”
I heard the frown in his voice when he spoke again. “You have other things on your mind than my linguistic ventures, Peter.”
For the first time since Robin’s return, I felt unworthy of the name. “Do you think this all worth the potential cost?” I asked. “I watched a man of five centuries burn right before my eyes, and could not do a damn thing about it.”
“I don’t think either of us have the luxury of weighing the cost right now. At this stage, we can’t stop the wheels from turning.”
“The Fates might rue the day they put them in motion.” Unable to suppress it any longer, I felt a shudder tear through me, forcing a deep breath past my lips which ended with a sharp exhale. My brother tightened his hold on my shoulder and suddenly, I wanted to run. “It would have been better for the world had you gone through with it. I do not think I shall win this battle. I am already compromised and we only have three scrolls.”
“You were ill-equipped to handle it because you walked into it blindly. Had I been there, I would have known how to guide you.”
“Had you been there, you would be dead again. And I would have another life counted against my conscience.”
“You underestimate us both.” His hand slid down to my back, kneading at it with strong fingers. “Me, for being smart enough not to throw myself into the line of fire and you for denying just how far you’ve come since Philadelphia.”
“Please do not start with platitudes, they shall do neither of us any good.” I glanced back at him and perked an eyebrow. “You would not have stayed out of the line of fire. You would have been in the thick of battle and it would have been you burned, not Grigore. I was foolish to think myself a champion.”
He frowned, the strokes on my back ceasing. “One defeat does not lose an entire war,” he said. “You were overconfident, perhaps, but not foolish. You walked into Hell with no allies.”
“I had one.” A frown tugged at the corners of my mouth. “He gave his life for me.”
Robin scoffed. “Tell me, Flynn, when have you ever mired in self-loathing?”
“Do not call me that,” I said, looking back at him and scowling. The words themselves dripping with venom, even I was taken aback by the way I spat them, my mood suddenly the difference between night and day. I felt my fangs start to peek out, but remained apathetic toward them.
My brother mirrored the expression. “Then don’t tell me I am a fool just because you seem bent in behaving like one. Grigore didn’t know you as well as I do. I would like to think I would recognize when you might have been over your head. What’s more, had I been here, you wouldn’t have had to be so focused on playing the ruse. I would have been your ambassador.”
“You have gotten self-deluded in your old age.”
“And you in your youth.” He regarded me with disdain, his hand dropping from my back as he turned to face me. Robin’s other arm shot up, finger pointing at the glass of blood I had left behind. “Now, if your foul mood and pity party might be interrupted, you need to feed. And I will be difficult with you if I have to be, because I am beginning to see what the others have claimed about your mood swings. Pick up the bloody glass, Peter.”
I held steady. “I shall do no such thing. I do not have need of it.”
“Tempted though I am to say you will someday be the death of me, I’ll note you already have been.” With sudden, violent motions, he ripped his arms free from his suit jacket and tossed it aside. One hand unbuttoned the cuff of the opposite sleeve while his fangs extended. “Allow me to educate you like a neophyte again.”
Without further ceremony, he bit into his wrist and brought the bleeding offering to my mouth.
A loud cry ripped through my soul, the taste of blood hitting my tongue with my sharp incisors slipping fully out of hiding. Droplets of liquid euphoria taunted at me, until I forced my mouth shut and clenched my eyes closed, not even wishing to see the damn substance again. Robin persisted. He pressed his skin against my lips with enough force to send me onto my back, the abrupt shift prying my mouth open. More blood slipped in and I could fight it no longer. Instinct took hold when will crumbled.
I plunged my teeth into the wound, opening it further and sending a gush of tepid, viscous liquid surging down my throat. Faintly, I heard him adjust his position while I pulled on the injury, taking mouthful after mouthful in draughts, mind swimming away from my senses into a once familiar haze. A hunger I had not known since my earliest days prompted me onward, until my brother tore his wrist away, inspiring a moan of disappointment past my lips.
Pain momentarily racked my body, and at the same time, the next shiver which passed through me bore less of a bite. My tongue lapped at the remnant on my mouth, my senses wading gradually back into coherence, eyes opening in time to see Robin sit upright, his chest rising and holding onto the breath he inhaled for a few lingering seconds before exhaling it again. I had lost all sense of time for a while and now, began to wonder how much I had taken from him. “Brother, are you alright?” I asked, fangs sliding back into my jaw as I spoke.
His Adam’s apple bobbed, his gaze pointed away from me before he glanced back at where I sat. I could not read the intent behind his expression in the small amount of eye contact we maintained before he managed a wan smile. It flashed in and out of existence. “Listen to me next time,” he said, rising to his feet. “I am a much older vampire than you.”
Robin paced away from where I laid, licking his wounds closed in the process. I finally found the will and energy to sit upright. “Robin, did I…?”
“I will be fine, Peter. You still need a proper feed.” His voice sounded hoarse until he swallowed again. I settled into a seated position as Robin turned to face me. “What do you think you are? Do you have a pulse? Does the air you draw in do anything other than facilitate speech? If the dark magician did anything, she exposed the form you still occupy and that form is hungry. You are not human. And you would sink rather than accept reality for what it truly is, dear brother. I loathe being the bearer of ill news, but it must be stated. You will never be that again.”
The room fell silent when the echo of his words faded, the absence of noise jarring after such a pointed speech. I winced, feeling the message impact while only further wounded by its truth. For the lack of a better response, I turned my head and stared off into nowhere.
My brother sighed. Slowly, he paced back to me and hovered near me. The sense of loss which tore at my heart left a hole in its wake, one which bled sorrow across my psyche. I lifted a leg, foot resting on the mattress so I could pull one knee close to my chest. A frown tugged at the corners of my mouth when I recognized just how much vitality one fact could drain from a soul.
What Grigore had started with his words of caution, Robin had finished with his verbal backhand.
“Peter, what is it you truly desire?” my brother asked, his voice subdued.
“Monica,” I said, the name a solemn whisper, but one delivered with conviction. “Her above all else.”
“Then cease fighting your nature and focus on that much.” He sat beside me again, both hands folding atop his lap. “Your powers are formidable, brother. They carried you to this point and proved what sort of mettle fashioned the vampire-seer. But if you have held yourself back in any regard, it is in taking a few boons and making them a fantasy
A sardonic chuckle drifted past my li
ps. “I do not even know what sort of fantasy I had been entertaining.”
“That you bore any humanity left. That you could be anything but vampire. I blame the Fates for this. They know how to prompt a creature into doing their bidding and are not above emotional manipulation.”
“So, they led me along in a misconception to dangle a carrot and nothing more?”
“To teach you the meaning of hope. If it has been their intention to force you to push yourself further, they succeeded in that much. Would you have been challenged otherwise? Love is distracting and few are able to resist being blinded by its ruse.”
“Impossible for me to know.” Forcing out another sigh, I turned my head to regard my brother. “This still leaves us with a quandary, denial aside. Maybe I shall consider being more attentive toward feeding. At the very least, I shall acquiesce toward sustenance for recovering. But all of that forms a moot point if I cannot track down the remainder of these scrolls. This only makes three.”
Robin nodded. “I have nothing good to offer in that regard, unfortunately. We know the areas where we must look, but identifying the exact locations… that might fall under your jurisdiction, dear brother.”
“The boxes contained no other clues?”
“Professor Singh and I were able to at least narrow down a small list of cities and towns which might house such ruins.” When his eyes found mine, he managed a smile, albeit strained. “Better than flying blind. Perhaps if we can get you close, you might catch their scent on the wind.”
“I hope,” I said, flopping backward onto the mattress again and placing both hands atop my stomach. My gaze settled on the ceiling, my balance still knocked haphazard and another shiver culminating at the base of my spine. I began to wonder if the feeling lingering within me would ever dissipate.
“Peter?”
Turning my head at Robin’s evocation, I felt the lump form in my throat again as his gaze turned sympathetic. “Keep your focus trained on your human lover,” he continued. “You are wiser now from the experience, and better equipped to handle this woman should she cross our path again. You have managed the impossible. You found two artifacts of antiquity hidden from our kind for centuries. The will of the Fates is as evident to me now as it was when your former paramour set us on this mission.”
