by Casey Lane
Astrid’s senses narrowed into the alleys around her, trying to spot the slightest trace of the young boy. Down a passageway on the east side of the road, the chirpy laugh of a woman resounded from behind the row houses. Astrid ran through the narrow alley, as the sharp smell of urine filled her nostrils. She squinted into the dark passage as William huffed behind her, jogging to keep up.
Making her way over the puddles, she avoided the garbage and wild cats hissing from tiny window frames. The alley ended in a makeshift courtyard; dark, but still semi-lit from the setting sun. Five women sat together on benches, all dressed in gaudily bright, well-worn frocks, and rouge painting their weathered faces. They laughed in unison at a joke, sitting with their knees apart and dresses hiked over their ankles.
Prostitutes, she realized as she caught her breath.
Timothy sat in the midst of the colorful women, a large smile on his face, and his dirty hands wrapped around a bowl of soup. A strong whiff of perfume assaulted Astrid as the wind changed direction, and her eyes watered from the sour stench.
“Timothy?” Astrid couldn’t hide the frantic concern in her voice.
The boy’s eyes flew toward the alley, a look of surprise overwhelming his face. As Astrid ran toward him, all five women rose up protectively, their smiles erased. But as she moved closer, their faces relaxed, for Astrid’s acts of charity were not unknown to them.
“Lady Astrid, what brings you to our part of the world, tonight?” asked the youngest girl.
“Good evening, ladies,” said Astrid, taken aback they knew her name. “Timothy . . . I was . . . worried for him.” She moved closer, and could now see the women’s faces as clearly as they could see hers. She realized she had seen most of them before, looking for work on the streets.
“Timothy is safe with us, Lady Astrid,” the largest lady spoke as she placed her arms protectively around his shoulders. “You have nothing to worry about. We take good care of him. He has us all. Every one of us claims him as our own.”
“I’m so sorry about Margaret.” Astrid knew the last woman to be murdered had associated with the women she now faced. As the words escaped her mouth, a veil of gloom descended upon the women.
Finally, one of the older women spoke. “Margaret’s death was merciless. The Society had better reign in its rogue vampire. Or we will.” The woman’s eyes quivered with tears of anger.
Astrid looked into the eyes of all five women. A rage brewed behind them, ignited by the atrocities committed against their friend. She knew these were not idle threats and that the woman meant every word she’d uttered. It would not be long before the women of the East End took matters into their own hands.
Astrid nodded empathetically. In the strange blue glow of the darkening courtyard, she found herself drawn into an unspoken pact with the women. She felt their loss, and craved justice for them. A kinship filled the spaces between.
Luca had grown into a strapping young vampire, aloof and independent, a true member of his clan. After the birth of Draegan, he had never seen his mother again but had participated in the upbringing of his younger brother.
Draegan was very unlike him. While Luca tended to be respectful and thoughtful, Draegan was rebellious and aggressive. Worse than that, Draegan hated what he called the weak and simpering human race.
Luca read a letter he’d just received, and its contents made him wonder how he possibly shared a mother with Draegan. They had been brought up exactly in the same manner. Both had received the teachings of the Society, and had taken the Vow of Peace.
Luca viewed the Society as a church-like entity. He also believed vampires were super human, and as such, had responsibilities toward the less fortunate human race.
For Draegan, the reverence toward the Society was misplaced. He believed the power of the vampires should eliminate the weaker race and expunge them. Draegan believed the Vow of Peace weakened vampires to a subservient role, unworthy of their genetically enhanced greatness.
In the letter Luca held from his brother, Draegan hinted of the killings.
Humans are stupid and weak! They don’t deserve to share our world any longer. We are superior in mind and body, capable of erasing the small-minded humans. Besides, it’s fun, brother. A good hunt keeps the senses keen.
A knot rose in his chest as the words spoke of Draegan’s tyrannical desires. Luca closed his eyes and began to hum in a low tone. He could see his brother pen the letter, blood fresh on his mouth. Luca could feel the euphoria his brother felt as he wiped his face, licking his fingers.
What has Draegan done?
Luca flew from the room, the letter fluttering in his right hand as he ran. Mordecai appeared lost in thought when Luca entered unannounced, and threw the letter on his desk.
“Read it,” he demanded.
Mordecai placed his hand atop the black-penned missive. Without reading it, Luca knew he felt the aura of the letter. A vision would form, and he would know everything Luca knew.
Mordecai would see the face behind the robes.
Luca reached London’s East End only to hear the sounds of sobbing nearby. Slowly, he inched forward, hiding in the shadows of the streetlights. A group of women sat huddled together in a courtyard, past a narrow alley, with a little boy. He saw gaudy clothes, torn and dirty, worn by heavily-painted women.
Footsteps crashed through the damp alley, and Luca closed his eyes and began a low hum. He concentrated on each molecule of his body, changing his molecular frequency and wavelength to become invisible to the human eye. He stood there as part of the darkness, waiting for the footsteps to emerge.
A young woman in green appeared, and Luca gasped at her elegant beauty. Her eyes probed the darkness in desperation, until finally, her gaze rested on the young boy. A look of relief washed over her, so strong that he felt it in his chest.
He watched the strange women as they welcomed the beautiful creature into their fold. Luca soon felt the defiance and pain of the group. He felt a sense of oneness and partnership filling the courtyard, along with a magnetic force from the young woman in green. Her force was growing stronger.
The angry voices of the women carried to him. “Margaret’s death was merciless. The Society had better reign in its rogue member. Or we will.”
Luca stood in awe as they vowed to find the murderer of their friend. He saw the woman from the carriage nod, vowing her support. With a warm sensation filling his chest, he knew he’d found his ally.
Chapter Four
The Black Seam
London 1860
Astrid felt the stranger and looked over her shoulder as she walked along the exquisitely manicured gardens of her family’s estate. She didn’t spot anyone, but was certain of someone’s presence. Walking back to the west wing, she detected an imperceptible rustling of robes behind her. She stopped, calmly turning, fully prepared for whatever the sight behind her might be.
A breeze blew against her cheek and she saw nothing still, but the rustling moved to her side. As she turned her head, she gasped. A young, male vampire stood next to her. His pale skin complemented his gray eyes, but what shocked her was his hair. Blond. So blond, it was almost white. His membership in the Society was apparent by his black robes and the large silver and agate ring he wore on his left hand.
“I am sorry to interrupt your morning walk.” His voice was heavy and low.
Astrid’s skin rose along her back and neck.
“My name is Luca, I belong to the Society. Are you the lady of the house?”
Astrid nodded. “This is my father’s house,” she stuttered, stunned by the sudden appearance of a vampire.
“I believe the young boy with whom you’ve spoken to has a description of the vampire killer. After hearing his side of the story, I believe I know who it might be.”
Astrid emerged from her frightened haze as he spoke. Her thoughts raced. This must be the vampire who intruded into Timothy’s memory. The instant attraction she felt for the vampire dropped into the ground
and merged with the wet, cold earth beneath her feet.
She stood tall, refusing to show any sign of fear. “Are you planning to hurt him? I won’t let you.”
“No, of course not.” The vampire looked puzzled by her reaction. “I have taken the Vow of Peace. I have no desire to harm humans, especially the little ones.”
“You said you know who the killer might be?” Her voice sounded doubtful, as Luca’s face paled even further.
“I believe it could be . . . someone quite close to me,” he whispered. “It may be my brother.”
“Are you quite sure?” She stepped back to study the handsome stranger in front of her.
With a nod, he explained further. “He hinted of his hatred in a letter he wrote. I felt his crimes leap from the page. The heat of his bloodlust and sadism erupted with each curl of his script.”
“And it was penned in your brother’s hand?”
“Yes, I am a prophetic vampire, and a member of The High Table. My powers are clear, and proven to be without flaw. I need your help, along with the help of your women friends from the East End.”
Astrid looked into his face, alarmed at first, wondering how he knew about her association with the women from the courtyard.
He smiled down at her. “I was there to investigate yesterday. You forget, I can read your mind. I heard your conversation.”
Astrid felt a tight knot in her chest. “There is nothing more for me to tell you then, is there? You seem to have been following me around and reading me long enough to know everything.” She felt her voice tighten and the pitch rise.
Awash with a rush of emotions, she suddenly felt unstable; no longer tethered to her normally controlled self. She had always been deftly able to gauge her emotional reaction to every situation and keep impulsivity at bay. But this vampire, Luca, kept her on alert.
“Please don’t misinterpret my intention.” Luca raised his hands in a forgiving gesture. “I was simply following you because I needed to know the truth—needed evidence. I apologize if you feel your privacy has been violated.” He sounded honest and sincere.
Astrid felt herself soften, but could not understand the effect Luca had upon her. Is this part of his telepathic manipulation? She shrugged off her bewilderment and focused on the immediate problem. “How do you think I can help you?”
“I want to trap Draegan. Then, perhaps I can rehabilitate him.” Luca moved closer, his voice barely over a whisper.
Astrid tried to direct her attention to what he said, instead of the rich texture of his voice, or how he smelled of pine trees. “Rehabilitate?” she scoffed. “He should be punished to the fullest extent of your law. He broke the Vow of Peace, and should never see the light of day. I thought the Society killed its mutants.”
“Perhaps you don’t understand the punitive nature of vampire rehabilitation.”
The figure roaming the streets of the East End like a black ghost, had footsteps that made no sound as he traveled, gliding a few inches above the ground. His heartbeat lowered to conserve his energy for the most opportune moment of his hunt. He closed his eyes and hummed, altering the frequency of his cell molecules to make himself invisible to the human eye.
It is a gift to be the perfect creature. The only proof of Draegan’s existence was the sound of the wind rustling through his satin robes. The next victim . . . so many choices.
Hunting for human blood was a sport, a boost to his ego, and a symbol of disregard of the Society. The Society had whispered about his mental state, how in creating the perfect creature they may have inadvertently added a viral strand to his DNA, a strand that might eventually manifest itself as mental instability. But Draegan believed he was stronger and smarter than all of the vampires, including Luca, for they only possessed one mutation. Draegan possessed both.
He’d developed the genetic mutation for flight, gliding over the land instead of walking like a pathetic human might, making transportation quick and graceful.
But his biggest genetic research project was still in experimental stages—he was developing a theory of how a mutation, a genetic alteration, could change the sex of a vampire within the mother’s womb.
Draegan knew the alteration would intrigue the Society. Recent Prophetics believed a female vampire would end their reign and bring destruction to their species. Most members panicked, yet Draegan knew the solution—alter the sex chromosomal pair, removing part of the XX combination and changing it to an XY, thus ensuring no female vampires would be born.
Though Draegan was much applauded for his thought and scientific innovation, Luca had been awarded a place at the High Table of the Society. Draegan’s rage knew no bounds as he’d watched his brother take a place at the High Table.
Someone is hunting me. And I think I know who that might be . . . A sinister smile curled his dead gray lips. Draegan was not as beautiful as Luca. In fact, it was as if their mother had chosen all the goodness and beauty to be distilled into her firstborn, leaving nothing but sinister intelligence and perversity for her second.
He heard the singing voices of women, talking and laughing from a neighboring street. Within seconds, his sharp hearing narrowed down the exact location of the women.
Without so much as a shake of a single strand of hair, Draegan glided stealthily toward them. He moved like an animal, stalking its prey, completely without noise. Soon, the dark shape of his body, covered by the robe, had vanished. He became invisible in the cool night air.
As he turned the corner, he saw the women ahead. A celebration was occurring around a big, grotesque fountain in the center of the wide road. A mermaid with flaming red eyes stood at its center, with a thin spout of water spitting from her open mouth. The structure was blackened with age and soot, yet the women’s children enjoyed the waters.
Draegan harbored doubts about it being a trap. To be safe, before he turned the corner, he held his breath and closed his eyes. He activated sensors attached to his night vision goggles by telepathically adding another lens and turning the refraction. With them, he could detect infrared movement and look for signs of Luca or any other vampire trying to find him.
In short spurts, he covered the entire span of the grounds around him. No one.
He slowly moved toward them, gliding invisibly and barely disturbing the air. His eyes traveled through the group, scanning each face, until he reached the one he fancied. A beautiful, elegant creature who stood like a swan.
The girl’s chocolate hair fell like cascading water down her shoulders and over the lavender satin dress. She seemed innocent and devoid of the perversity that he smelled from the other women. He moved closer, drunken with her scent. His desire and hunger for her blood stirred within him. In jerky desperation, he wove through the crowd to his selected catch. His dark eyes focused on her pale features, and in a split second, he materialized next to her.
The women’s shrieks filled the air as Astrid looked Draegan straight in the eyes. Her face remained calm and serene. She had no fear of him.
Something is out of place. The rustling in the air behind him confirmed his thoughts. Luca. Draegan wasted no time. He grabbed Astrid by her wrists and bit into her neck.
The girl screamed.
Yes, bitch. You will fear me. Draegan felt his robes being pulled from behind as he was thrown over the building. He landed upon the roof as Luca materialized on the ground. His brother gave chase, then stopped, almost immediately.
The action caused Draegan to laugh. Helping the human woman, are we? How pathetic.
Outwitting his brother pleased him immensely. What’s more, judging by the look of pain in Luca’s eyes at the sight of the fallen woman, Draegan knew he’d somehow managed to hurt him, too. What a magnificent night.
Chapter Five
Canary in a Coalmine
London 1860
In the second Astrid fell, Luca ran back and knelt by her. He took her in his arms and tried to suck the venom from her neck, but her blood flow was too weak from the attack. Astr
id’s body was quickly turning a dull, bluish color as Draegan’s venom fought to disable her immune system.
“Lady West, look at me.” Luca became riddle with guilt and anxiety. His plan to capture Draegan had failed, and he had risked the life of the beautiful creature, to no avail.
“Lady Astrid, please try to wake up.” Luca’s voice sounded shrill and panicked, and the intensity of his feelings frightened him.
The other women formed a circle around him, their sighs and gasps reverberating in his ears like a percussion band. Clatter and cackles assaulted his ears, and he looked at each of them, willing them to take their leave.
His attention fell back to Astrid as he closed his eyes. He held her to his chest as it vibrated against hers with a low, growling hum. Awaken, Astrid. I will you to open your eyes.
Her eyes slowly flickered to life, and he laid her on the cold stone of the curb. Her gaze landed on his face, but the rest of her body remained paralyzed.
Luca grinned with joy. “A knife,” he yelled. “I need a blade!”
A woman screamed, “You will not kill her! We won’t allow it.” Then they all ran at him, beating his back and shoulders. Some kicked at his legs, but failed to cause any damage, as his body was unyielding.
“Women!” he shouted. “Time is wasting. Give me something with which to cut myself. I want to save Astrid from the venom.”
The women stopped their attack, but remained immobile, either unwilling or too frightened to aid him. So Luca placed his forearm in his mouth and bit down, gnashing his teeth to break through the sinewy tissues of his muscular arm. He scowled, not from pain, but from a mysterious mix of desire and fear, until finally he punctured his own veins.
To the shock of the women, he poured drops of thick blood, a syrupy blue liquid, onto Astrid’s lips.
