The fine scent of sandalwood filled her nostrils and Chalice couldn't think of anything else but her Master, and how much she longed to be his one and only. Her lips slowly parted, and quietly, she breathed, "Yes, I want."
A contemptuous smile graced Azrael's features as he left the bed, turned his back on Chalice and began to dress. "I admit I was young and inexperienced back then. I relished living among the Spanish nobles. While I indulged my every whim, Apophis, my soon-to-be-master, was already observing me, without my notice. My dissolute youth ran by and I grew tired of this life. Day in, day out, it was always the same. I became bored. Nothing made me happy anymore. Nor did money, or women, or the conveniences at the side of my friends. Then, at the height of my great boredom, he appeared. My honored Master Apophis, head of the Serpentes clan."
Azrael paused, quietly thinking about that first encounter.
Chalice's eyes were fixed to his lips, begging him to continue the story.
As the vampire finally went on, he couldn't suppress a trace of awe in his voice. "During visiting the theater, he entered my loge. Silent, he sat there, watching the play with me. I was no longer able to concentrate on the play. I felt him watching me, although, from the corner of my eyes, I saw that he didn't spare me a glance. Furtively, I sized him up. He seemed to be very wise and experienced in the matters of life. I wondered how old that man could be. His skin showed no signs of age. His smooth, gray hair had been tied to a braid and the fine fabric of his clothes was of exotic elegance."
Again Azrael halted, this time to pour himself a glass of red wine. "Before the play was over, he left the loge. Unasked, I followed him into the night. His mere presence banished the gray boredom from my heart. With every second, I felt the feeling grow inside me to be unable to live without him."
Lost in thought, he stared into his glass. "Today I know that it was a vampire, who seduced my heart."
Excited, Chalice interrupted him, "And then? Did he turn you into one of his own kind?"
"Yes, that night was the last I looked at the world with mortal eyes. Apophis chose that moment for me. He liked me so much that he gave me a choice of my own. Of course, I chose to be changed. I didn't want to be a slave. I wanted to be a vampire, because I didn't want to die. Not after having met him." Azrael's voice had softened during the recount.
Chalice's eyes sparkled with joy."Oh, I'm sure it was the happiest moment for you."
Azrael snorted in annoyance. "I was a vampire, and at the same time, I was not."
"What?" she grumbled, before admitting, "I don't understand that."
"I didn't expect you to." Arrogantly, the vampire looked down at Chalice. "It means I didn't have the advantages as those of the Old Blood, the Born." Pure disdain was audible as he continued. "I was not like them, not an equal. It was too late for me, the decision had been made. They didn't reveal the deepest secrets of the folk of night. I also wasn't allowed to ask anything about the Chronicles of Darkness, which supposedly contain all ancient knowledge of the world. Jealous, they fiercely guarded it and kept their knowledge hidden from me. I only caught bits and pieces when I eavesdropped on their conversations. Nothing had changed. Year upon year went by, always the same. The vampires of the Old Blood strode around with dignity, while our kind was barely tolerated at court. Mostly, they kept us, the Unborn, hidden in the shadows, as to not be constantly reminded of their guilt.
He gulped down the wine. "My disgust with the clan grew immensely." His eyes gleamed. "I learned a lot through observing them. For a long time I thought I was only one of many, but then I discovered my great talent... manipulation of the will. After a while that wasn't enough anymore, and I realized that I could gain more power and influence, if I were to drink the blood of immortal souls. I knew it was the greatest sin in the world of vampires, but still, I followed through. I did it with great fervor!"
To cut off another of Chalice's questions, he added, "Only those of the Old Blood have their skills since birth and can develop them throughout their existence."
With bated breath, Chalice had listened to her master. She wrinkled her forehead in disbelief. "Is that the truth?"
Anger flared up in the vampire. "Are you accusing me of lying?"
"No! No, of course not!" Chalice whimpered. "It's just that... I thought..."
"You thought?" Azrael burst into laughter, roughly grabbing her chin. "Don't wreck your pretty head."
Her pride wounded, Chalice pulled her chin free and slid off the bed. She retreated to a dark corner, now silent.
Smiling, Azrael watched her for a while and then continued his tale. "Every wretched day, I hated them more for allowing this terrible injustice. So I used the only opportunity I had left. I took control of naive minions and put my plan of manipulation into action."
He emptied another glass in one swallow. His mood now softened, he walked over to Chalice. Azrael bent down to the crouching figure, cupped her neck and pulled her beautiful face towards him. "Oh, it was so easy. So ridiculously easy. I killed them all with great pleasure and left no one alive. If the other clans had been warned, my followers and I would have never made it out of there. But what is life worth without the risk of losing it? Nothing." He leered at her. "Now, nobody can hold me back from reaching the top."
Completely devoted, Chalice writhed in his arms, spellbound by the dark power he strongly radiated.
"These so-called rulers, who think only they have the skills and knowledge to lead the vampires," he spat disgusted.
Suddenly a thought crossed Chalice's mind. "After you killed them all, did you then get the Chronicles of Darkness?"
"I searched the castle from the roof to the cellar, looked in every corner, left nothing unturned, but the Chronicles of Darkness were not in the Serpentes' possession." Grimly, he clenched his hands to fists. "Sooner or later, of course I'd prefer sooner, they will be mine. All their knowledge will belong to me."
Excited by Azrael's words, the young woman dared to ask another question, "How did it feel to drink the blood? The blood of an immortal, that of your master?"
With pleasure the vampire remembered the moment. "Arousing. My teeth pierced the skin of his throat and I tasted his ancient blood. The flood of his powers impaled me with brutal force to live on in my veins. As the last drop of blood trickled down my throat, Apophis was no more than a drained and empty shell."
"That truly sounds intoxicating," Chalice whispered.
"Oh, it definitely is. Still, to become anything like one of the Old Blood, I have to drink a lot of immortal blood. Unfortunately, the blood of humans and Unborn vampires is too weak to reach my sought-for prize."
"Well, then let us go, my Master, to find the other clans. Together, we will deliver them to their unavoidable fate."
Azrael glared harshly at his high-spirited companion. "We will do nothing!"
"Uh... uh... no?" Chalice stuttered, surprised.
"No! Of course not!" Azrael thundered. "Do you really think it would be easy?"
"I... I do not know..." came the unsure reply.
Finally, Azrael lost his self-control and growled, "Of course, you don't! Because you were not there! After having lived with them for so long, I opened their eyes, so they may recognize their clan's continuing decay. Even before my time, they had lost many of the Old Blood. The rest of the clan is living secluded and unknown in the Spanish wilderness."
Frightened, Chalice looked up at her Master and asked carefully, "How strong are the other clans?"
"At least strong enough that I will not risk an open fight with them. We will resort to a ruse and use some tricks to bring the end upon them." The typical, devilish grin returned to his features.
"Oh, how great!" Chalice exclaimed happily, nearly dancing with joy. "Count me in! I've got to see that."
Azrael temper was restrained. Casually, he mumbled to himself, "My Lord and Master, Apophis, if only you had realized how much I learned from you. You would never have underestimated me, thinking that I was no
more but an irascible and spoiled boy. Betraying you and your oh so venerable clan would have never been possible otherwise. So, thank you, my creator."
*****
Exhausted, Skylar fell on her bed and tiredly rubbed her eyes. Clad in a long, white night gown, she slipped underneath the warm covers, snuggling deeply into the pillows.
Helena entered the room and sat down on the bed's edge. Reaching out with a slender hand, she brushed some stray strands of hair off the girl's forehead and placed a tender kiss on the smooth skin. "Good night, my precious. Sweet dreams."
"I wish you the same, Mama," Skylar replied, yawning widely.
Helena rose, wanting to extinguish the candles, but the girl took her hand, holding her mother back. "Mama?"
"What is it, sweetheart?" the huntress enquired softly, once more sitting down next to her daughter.
"You once told us that there are four big vampire clans, right?"
Helena nodded. "Yes, that's correct. The Dragons, the Griffins, the Mantichoras and the Serpentes. Why? Did something occur to you when we were at the crime scene that my eagle eyes should have overseen?" the huntress asked, smiling. "I did well taking you with me tonight. Four eyes see better than two."
Skylar giggled and declared with childlike charm, "Yes, yes. And the police chief's eyes were glued to you."
"That's nonsense," Helena denied. "Monsieur Dutroit is only grateful that we are helping him. Although, we must not tell him that it is not a usual killer we are searching, but a vampire. Now, let's get back to your actual question so you can go to sleep. I can see that you won't be able to keep your little eyes open much longer."
"Alright. If there are only four clans, how come we have an old document with five heraldic animals? What is up with the fifth clan, Mama?"
Their conversation was interrupted as a beaming Kyrian entered the room, his hair still wet from a bath, which Monique had forced him to take. "Finally, there you are! Monique said you were gone with the police chief. Are there any new insights?"
Helena rose from the bed's edge and walked to him. "It is good to see that you found your way home, my son," she said sternly, her face hard and bare of any emotion. "Tell your sister good night, then come down and meet me at the library. I wish to talk with you about something."
Kyrian was a bit puzzled about the way his mother spoke to him. But then he shrugged his shoulders. "Alright."
Without responding to Skylar's question, the huntress left the room in direction of the library. She sat down in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace and reached beneath her locks to rub her cramped neck. "What a night," she mumbled to herself. "We are not one step closer to catch the vampire."
"We will restrain him soon. I'm sure of that," Kyrian threw in as he entered the room. Light-footed, he glided to the armchairs and sat down with a big grin, facing his mother. He was dying to tell her about his rendezvous with Christine. Kyrian had never been happier in his young life. The serious expression of Helena's face let his grin fade. "Mama? Please, tell me. What's wrong?" he asked, concern heavy in his voice.
The huntress looked at him and shook her head slightly. "Just what is going on inside your head, my son?"
Kyrian wrinkled his forehead. "I don't know what you mean, Mama."
"You were supposed to be at the castle after dusk," she reminded him firmly.
Apologetically, the young man lifted his hands. "Yes, I know. But I didn't want to run through the woods during the thunderstorm. So Christine and I found refuge in a little barn, where we waited, until the sudden, heavy rain was over."
"And that is the point, exactly! Because of a girl your head is floating above the clouds and nothing else matters to you. It must not be like that."
Kyrian crossed his arms, defiantly. "You are exaggerating," he grumbled.
"Am I?" Helena exclaimed. "Then how come your sister even noticed? And how is it possible that my son, who knows how to handle a crossbow and never misses his aim, hurts a servant with it?"
Indignantly, the young hunter jumped from the armchair. "It was just a mishap!" he vehemently defended himself. "I already apologized to Jean. He accepted my apology, and he is fine!"
"Lower your voice and sit back down, Kyrian!" Helena demanded forcefully. "There is a very dangerous vampire on the loose out there! You are a hunter, my son! And you know what that means!"
"Yes, I know that!" he retorted angrily, but wasn't about to sit back down.
"Then please, act like it," Helena warned, also rising from her armchair.
"How am I supposed to do that? You never take me along when you hunt!"
"I never will, as long as you don't have your feelings under control!" his mother decided furiously. "You have a hot temper and you are very stubborn."
"Don't blame my emotions. You are still treating me like a little child! How can I prove to you that I can take responsibility, if you don't give me a chance?" he argued, fiercely.
Helena's eyes narrowed and her voice was dangerously low. She stood very close to him, hands on her hips. "You had your chance and proved that you cannot take responsibility. If you are unable to be at the castle before dusk, how do you expect me to take you with me on hunts with a clear conscience?" Kyrian's angry retort was cut off with a quick hand motion by Helena. "Enough! This useless discussion is over, before we say something we will regret later. Go to bed, my son. Think about my words and your behavior." She left him standing there and retired to her chambers.
His face bearing a dark expression, Kyrian's hand curled into a fist, and he slammed it against an armchair's backrest. "I will prove it to you!"
*****
"A voice, once familiar, is now silent. A daughter, always there, is no more here. What remains are memories, until our happy reunion. Keep these lines in mind. Although you might not always feel our presence, do not despair. Your loving parents."
Ajatarah put the quill aside and folded the letter. She took the red seal wax, lit the wick of a candle and dripped the molten wax over the folded letter. Afterwards, the vampire pressed Zephriel's golden seal ring, which bore the sign of her clan, a dragon's head, in the hot, soft wax. She rose, walked to the window and opened it.
Immediately, a hoarse croak could be heard and a big raven flew excitedly into the room. The black bird sat down on a chair's backrest, looking around the room watchfully.
A tiny smile ran across Ajatarah's serious face. "Hraban, my dear. Are you missing Lilith as much as I do?" Tenderly, she stroked the raven's shiny feathers. "Soon you will see your friend again, because you are going to deliver this letter to Lilith. My words shall give her comfort during the time we are apart. Her heart is in turmoil, I know that."
Ajatarah released a soft sigh and was about to tie the letter to the bird's leg as Zephriel entered the room. Surprised, he paused. "What are you doing?"
"I wish to send a message to Lilith," his wife answered in a firm voice. "She must know that she has our unconditional support."
"Impossible, my Beloved," Zephriel replied, sad. "It is not safe. The message could be intercepted and the whereabouts of our daughter would be revealed."
Unusually upset, Ajatarah opposed her soulmate. "Our daughter needs her clan. She needs us!"
Zephriel averted his eyes and kept glancing in direction of the door.
Ajatarah's realized that something was wrong. "What happened?"
"You know that I instructed Kean to go west as fast as possible, after delivering our daughter into Sadden's care. I thought it best, instead of sending out a second messenger to our friend, Apophis. Well, Kean has returned. Lilith is safe, but he brings disturbing news from the west. Hear him yourself. I asked him to wait."
On cue, the big doors opened and Kean entered, his head lowered. Respectfully, he knelt and kept this position, until Zephriel ordered him to rise. "You may speak openly."
Kean began quietly. "Milord, Milady... the clan of the Serpentes... is no more." He paused for what seemed like an eternity.
"What unbelievable news," Ajatarah gasped, shuddering at the thought that he was telling the truth. Helpless, she looked at her life mate.
Zephriel was pacing restlessly. Unexpected, he smashed his fists down on the table.
Hraban croaked, her wings fluttering.
For a long time, the head of the Dragon Clan stared at Kean. "Tell us everything you saw. Do not be frightened to tell us the whole truth. I know, you are a man of clear words, and I appreciate that."
"As you wish, Milord."
Zephriel reached out a hand to his life mate, who took it gratefully. He guided her to an overstuffed bench near the fireplace. They sat down and listened intently to Kean's horrible report.
The man wetted his lips and began to recount. "I rode across the wide plains of Castile, followed the route, which runs parallel to the cost, because there isn't much population. After I reached Andalusia, I guided my horse directly to the castle in the mountains. I felt relieved as the Moorish palace appeared at the horizon, telling me I had almost reached my destination. After hardly taking any rest, I arrived at the ancestral seat of the Serpentes. With its last strength, my horse took the stony path toward the castle, until we stopped in front of the portal. I was puzzled when I noticed that it was wide open. I entered, but nobody was there. Nobody."
Ajatarah's hand clenched tightly around her Zephriel's.
Kean went on, "The sight, which greeted me inside the court, shocked me to the core. Everywhere laid horribly mutilated corpses scattered about." He paused briefly to observe the effect of his words.
With a quick hand motion, Ajatarah ordered him to continue.
"Stares from their dead eyes were following me as I stepped over them to reach the inner sanctums of the ancient building. On the threshold, I pulled my sword from its scabbard. I grabbed it tightly with both hands, fearing what might be waiting for me inside, but I heard nothing, except the sound of my own footsteps." The words nearly got stuck in his throat, and he hurried to get them out, as fast as possible. "Then I saw... I saw... in the throne room ... Lord Apophis. He was dead... all of them were dead."
Chronicles of Darkness: Shadows and Dust Page 13
