Finally Theo sent Kyle down to fetch me. When I walked into the bedroom, Theo was sitting in his favorite chair. It was one of those black leather TV chairs that could swivel and lean back, with a foot rest that flipped out. I never understood why he wanted the stupid thing; Theo didn’t watch television, even though he had the biggest plasma screen I’d ever seen fixed to the plain white wall above the open fireplace. Solid silver candlesticks stood at either end of the marble mantel, a testament to Theo’s often bleak sense of humor.
‘Moth,’ he said. It wasn’t a greeting so much as an acknowledgment of my presence.
I nodded. ‘Hi, Theo.’
‘Come here, let me look at you.’
Theo was what Caitlín would call ‘easy on the eye’. He had curly black hair that was a little too long to be clean cut – it swept back from his face now and fell to just below his collar – and sculpted features that never looked pasty or unhealthy. His skin was smooth like the finest porcelain, and his lips were wicked and sensual. The only thing that looked anything less than perfect was the rather hawkish nose, but I always thought it made him look distinguished. And just a little bit dangerous, like a bird of prey ready to swoop down and devour you. Even at somewhere around his mid-twenties (at least to the human eye), Theo looked like a cover model for a romance novel – one that probably involved pirates.
He was slender, toned, no more than five ten, and he moved with a dangerous sort of grace. He was all lean muscle and sharp reflexes. Sharp like a nail. Sharp like a fang.
God, seeing him always brought back memories. Dark, nightmarish images, only half remembered:
‘You’re not dead,’ Theo says softly. ‘But . . . you’re no longer alive, either. Not exactly.’
I sit in a chair in the corner of one of the many rooms of his house, as far away from the window as I can get. The light hurts my eyes, though Theo tells me that will pass. I clutch a blanket around me.
‘I’m cold,’ I whisper. ‘So cold.’I am numb all through my flesh and bones. My chest hurts so badly I want to cry. It is a constant pain, a pain that devours.
Theo strokes my hair.
I remembered what it was like, waking up and realizing that everything was different. The world smelled different – even I smelled different – and my body was no longer my own. It was a strange, heavy thing. Alien. Nothing worked the way it was supposed to and I was so hungry. So very hungry.
‘Let me look at you,’ Theo said again, bringing me back to the here and now.
Dutifully, I presented myself and waited for him to say something negative about what I was wearing. Theo hated my clothes, but it was what I’d always worn and I like to feel comfortable. It wasn’t anything to do with an ‘image’ or symbolic of becoming a vampire. It was just me.
This time I’d done my best to please him – considering the occasion – while still remaining true to myself. The dress I’d chosen was crimson satin, short and fitted with a Chinese-style collar and long sleeves that practically covered my hands. The black fishnets itched like crazy, but what did that matter when it came to fashion? My huge, almost comically chunky boots made me look like a Manga character, what with my skinny legs, but I didn’t care. The bigger the boots the harder you can kick – that’s my motto.
I unzipped my leather jacket, trying for the tough-but-vulnerable look. Sort of Rebel Without a Cause in a dress.
Theo leaned forward and his light gray eyes began to glow with the ethereal silver light that all vampires’ eyes possessed. I knew that my own would mirror his, only ten times brighter. Theo was my Maker – he’d made me what I was – and my body betrayed our connection even if I wanted to deny it.
‘Take off that ridiculous jacket,’ he said.
I bristled, but did it anyway. I dropped it on the floor just to annoy him.
‘You look well, my Moth,’ was all Theo said.
I was surprised, but tried not to show it. ‘Thanks. So do you.’ The words slipped out before I could stop them, but it was true, so what did it matter?
My Maker had been here in the good old US of A since 1847. He had taken a number of aliases over the years, one of which I knew for sure was Theodore Fitzgerald – although I had no idea whether or not that was his true name. Sometimes I fantasized about investigating his origins. The minimal facts I’d managed to gather so far must give me somewhere to start. For example, if he arrived in Boston’s North End in 1847 as a young man, after the long, slow boat ride from an Ireland being destroyed by the Potato Famine, surely there were records. Wouldn’t there be some kind of register of all the new arrivals?
I was pretty certain that Theo hadn’t been Made until he’d arrived in North America. It seemed unlikely that he would have survived such a long voyage over water – day and night – had he been a vampire. Unless he was a very new one, I guess. That was possible, but everything I’d managed to glean from him – every titbit that I’d filed away in the hope of learning something about the man I both loved and hated – seemed to indicate he’d become a vampire within a few years of arriving on these shores.
Holly told me that there were rumors of a dead family back in Ireland – a wife, even children – but Theo never spoke of it. I so desperately wanted to know more about him. He was in my heart, my soul – my blood. I couldn’t go a day without thinking of him, no matter how much that freaked me out and made me feel weak, weak, weak. I told myself that it was the vampire link between Maker and fledgling that did this to me, but sometimes it was more difficult to convince myself of that than others.
‘You’re staring,’ Theo said, his voice radiating warmth. ‘Do you like what you see tonight?’
I swallowed. There was no way I wanted to play this game with him – he was a hundred and seventy years too old for me. That didn’t stop you last year, said a traitorous voice inside my head. I gave myself a stern talking to: I didn’t know what he was, then. I didn’t know the truth.
‘Theo . . .’
He smiled, keeping his fangs hidden. ‘To business, then?’
‘Business? What do you mean? The meeting isn’t due to start yet, is it?’
‘I need to be sure you know your role.’
Oh. He was priming me beforehand. Great. ‘I wouldn’t let you down, Theo. I know how important this is.’
‘Do you? Are you quite sure about that?’
I looked at him, realizing that he was being totally serious. ‘What do you mean? Of course I do.’
‘When I turned you, it was . . .’ He shook his head, for once struggling for words. He closed his eyes for a moment. ‘I should not have done it. You know this, yes?’
‘Yes.’ He’d told me enough times. How it was a mistake and I was far too young; how he regretted it, even though there was no way of changing me back. In fact, I heard it so many times in those early days that I’d grown numb to it. I hadn’t really given much thought to how other vampires would perceive his ‘slip’. Not back then.
Theo nodded. ‘You must do everything to convince the Elders that I have you under complete control.’
I gritted my teeth against the suicidal desire to say something snarky. Under control?
My phone beeped, saving me. I checked the text message, ignoring Theo’s irritated sigh, and raised my eyebrows. It was Jace:
Been researching what we found yesterday. Want to share info? When can we meet?
Well, that was a surprise . . . I honestly hadn’t expected to hear from Jason Murdoch again. I glanced up at Theo, guiltily stashing my phone away before he could confiscate it. Seriously, I wouldn’t put it past him and I didn’t want him to know I was in touch with Thomas Murdoch’s son.
‘Did you feed before you came?’
Here we go. ‘Um . . . no, sorry. I forgot.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘You do not “forget” to feed, Moth. All you’re doing is proving my point about how I can’t rely on you to make sure this goes smoothly.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ I snapped.
He to
ok a step toward me. ‘You’d better be. If there was time, I would insist that you feed before we go upstairs.’
‘Sorry.’ I lowered my eyes, trying to placate him. ‘I’m just tired. Maybe I do need to feed.’
‘But not from me.’
‘No. Not from you.’
There was a brief pause, when I knew my Maker was giving me the opportunity to consider how I insulted him every time I refused to feed from him.
‘Perhaps we will rectify the situation later,’ he said evenly.
‘No,’ I said again. ‘You promised.’
‘I promised that I will never take blood from you. Not unless you ask me to do so, in no uncertain terms. I also promised that you could feed in any way that you desire, so long as you are discreet. Even drinking from blood bank supplies, for your entire life should you wish it, and not drinking from humans. I do not fight you on this, little one.’ He took another step closer. ‘But I also said that you may have to feed from me occasionally, should the need arise.’
I thought about that for a moment. Had he said that? Maybe he had.
He touched my face. ‘Your silence is your answer. I know you remember our conversation.’ Now his voice had dropped low, seductive.
When a vampire is first Made, she needs to drink blood pretty much daily – sometimes more than once a day. It’s almost as though you come back from death with an unbearable hunger – an eternal thirst for blood that can never be slaked. Theo kept me closely monitored throughout those first weeks and months. He was my nursemaid and jailer all rolled into one beautiful package. He held me tight when I screamed, when I cried, when I attempted to take out a chunk of his throat with my permanently extended fangs that I couldn’t tame – no matter how hard I tried.
I was like a savage; my body burning with heat and bloodlust. Savage need and hunger and pain, every inch of me exposed and raw.
Sometimes I wondered why Theo hadn’t just killed me, put me out of my misery. If Making me was going to cause him trouble later on – and he must have known that my presence would bring his position within the Family into question – then why didn’t he end me when he’d had the chance? Even after he’d brought me back, after that night when he’d changed me forever, he could have staked me any time. Cut out my heart and burned it.
I have never asked him, though, because I think maybe I’m afraid of the answer.
I hate it when he tells me that I belong to him; I hate him. Hate is so much easier than love, and yet they so often go hand in hand. Sometimes I wonder if he keeps me alive to punish himself, but for something far greater than turning me into a vampire. What he did to me was wrong, there’s no question about that, but I get the impression that Theo is living under the weight of a guilt I could never even come close to understanding.
‘Fine,’ I said, swallowing my fear. ‘I’ll feed from you later.’
‘Excellent. Now that we have that arranged, it is time to go upstairs.’
‘Right now?’
He inclined his head. ‘They’re waiting for us.’
Chapter Eight
I WAS SURROUNDED by vampires.
Every pair of silver eyes was directed my way, as though sizing me up for a snack or trying to figure out what kind of a threat I’d be to the Family. Tension had been slowly rising throughout my entire body, and I wondered if it was genuine adrenaline – if that was even possible – or whether it was like the memory of adrenaline. A ghostly presence left over from humanity, like my body was simply having a hard time letting go of human foibles. The anxiety was starting to make my stomach hurt.
Can vampires get ulcers?
I looked around the room and swallowed. A gathering of vampires is called a ‘swarm’ – bet you didn’t know that. A swarm of vampires. It sort of fits, especially if you’ve seen the vicious activity of a group-feeding. I have, but only once and that was enough. Theo wasn’t supposed to know I was watching, but it turned out my so-called genius hiding place wasn’t so genius and he’d known I was there all along.
He said it would do me good to see the baser part of vampire nature. I’m not sure it did me good, but it certainly made me never want to see anything like that ever again.
This swarm, sitting in Theo’s cavernous top floor (which always reminds me of the Bat Cave, except for that fact that it’s not underground), was far more civilized. The room was filled with almost twenty vampires, an equal mix of men and women. Apart from Theo, I only knew two of them – Holly and Kyle. Holly, her blue hair in pigtails, winked at me, and I almost ran over and hugged her with gratitude. She must have known how terrified I was and, despite our occasional differences, it was cool of her to give me a small sign of encouragement. Holly was sitting next to an attractive, impressively tattooed brunette who I’d never met. She looked much older than Holly, on the surface, but of course you can never be sure of these things when it comes to the undead. Their shoulders were touching.
I switched my gaze to Theo’s Enforcer as he leaned close to his master’s ear and whispered something. Theo nodded, seeming pleased, and Kyle glided to his position with his back to the wall and a view of the entire room. If anyone made a move toward Theo, he’d move in faster than a human can blink. That was his job, above all else. Kyle had street smarts that made him a formidable opponent; his cunning had also helped him rise quickly through the ranks of Theo’s Family. He was a powerful Enforcer: his fighting skills were impressive enough that he often trained other vampires in hand-to-hand combat – myself included. He was tall and skinny with shoulder-length dirty-blond hair, and he seemed almost to be made of iron. He had that wiry sort of strength that always came as a surprise to his victims.
There was tea and coffee in shiny urns, and dusty bottles of vintage wine alongside super-size carafes of blood. I wondered where the blood had come from – there was no way that the senior vampires in the room would lower themselves to drink bagged blood. They would expect fresh, and Theo would have provided it.
I was sitting as far away from the visiting vamps as possible, but I knew Theo might need to summon me during the meeting. There was an empty chair beside him, which would put me right in the thick of things. I already felt like all eyes were on me – even back here shrouded in convenient shadows. Just imagine what it would be like sitting front and center. I desperately wanted a glass of water. Not really needing it, but wanting it all the same. Theo said that human desires, like regular hunger and thirst, would pass as my un-life progressed, but so far I still got terrible dry-mouth whenever I was nervous.
And I had good cause to be nervous. I had cause to be shaking in my steel-toe-capped boots. Solomon, the Elder vampire of the state of Massachusetts, was in the house and, let me tell you, he was pretty damn impressive. And scary.
The vampire hierarchy of the world was complex, but the basics involved different levels of command for each major world territory. Yes, vampires are spread throughout the entire world, everywhere. Organization was imperative in order to maintain secrecy, and that organization started at the city level. Like, Theo is the Master of the Boston Family – he controls any and all vampire activity within the greater metro area and the whole of Boston. Beyond that, there were the Elders who look after a much larger area or state. Vampires call these Enclaves, so the Enclave of Massachusetts is currently overseen by Solomon, and he would report directly to the High Council of Vampires. You normally can’t reach this level until you’ve been ‘alive’ for a few centuries.
Solomon’s presence was like a cold spot in the room. I got gooseflesh just thinking about it, and could hardly bring myself to look at him. Each time his bottomless and surprisingly dark eyes swung in my direction I felt the overwhelming desire to hide under my chair. He was a giant African-American dude, with a huge shaved head that gleamed in the flickering candlelight. The legends about him said that he was a former slave, and now he oversaw vampire activity in the entire state of Massachusetts.
He had the weight of centuries behind his eyes; the
wisdom of a man who’s been to hell and back, and lived (more or less) to tell the tale.
Solomon caught me looking and his full lips quirked into a tiny smile. ‘Come forward, child.’
His voice was soft and deep and filled with something that made me want to get down onto my hands and knees, crawl across the richly carpeted floor, maybe on my belly, just to please him. Just to make him not want to kill me. Or maybe I should offer my throat like a wolf. Show him how submissive I could be, and how he could end my insignificant life with a snap of his jaws if he so desired. His voice filled the room, deep and heavy. I could feel it beating against my heart.
I shook myself. Shit. What was happening? I looked at him and realized that he had been inside my head.
The old ones can do that.
‘Come,’ he rumbled. I couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying, almost as though the meaning behind the words were lost. But the sound of his voice was both beautiful and terrible. It crushed me until I felt tiny, each word like a sledgehammer driving me further and further into the ground. Every syllable, a leash tightening around my will.
I stood on shaking legs and stumbled toward him. I was vaguely aware of the gathering swarm, but I only really had eyes for Solomon. I stopped in front of his chair and looked down at him. I realized there was something wrong in the fact that I was looking down on him, and quickly lowered myself to my knees to correct that. My head was now below his.
There, that’s better.
Falling to Ash Page 7
