A Vampire's Dominion

by Vanessa Fewings

  “They’re my only hope, apparently.”

  “I’ll help you find them.”

  I squeezed her hand, wanting to tell her that through her strength I was finding mine. Though facing death terrified me, virtually incapacitating me from finding my way back.

  She turned to see my face clearly. “How does it feel?”

  “I’ve almost managed to still these clashing thoughts. I feel normal.” I gave a shrug. “Perhaps normal isn’t right. Centered.” I searched for the words. “It feels like William was always here.”

  “I wish you’d have told me who you really are, William.”

  “There were so many times I wanted to.” I shook my head. “You still doubt it, even now.” I gave her a nudge. “Can’t blame you.”

  She gazed out over the ocean. “On more than one occasion I’d have sworn I caught sight of Jadeon in your eyes.” She shook her head.

  “I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through.”

  “You’ve been strong for me. Now it’s my turn.”

  I went to answer but was too choked up to let the words find their freedom.

  “Your friends adore you,” she said, “so you must be doing something right.”

  I coughed, clearing the emotion from my throat. “Trusting the word of a vampire?” I pulled a face. “Foolish at best.”

  She softened as though her thoughts had returned to those last few hours we’d shared.

  “You take my breath away, Ingrid Jansen.” I reached just below her right eye using my thumb to wipe away smudged mascara. “I’m grateful you’re hanging in there with me.”

  Marcus strolled toward us and stopped short a few feet away as though trying to judge whether he’d interrupted something.

  “Marcus,” I said, warmly inviting him to join us.

  “Nice evening,” he responded.

  “Small talk?” Ingrid asked. “So unlike you.”

  “Glad to see we’re all still friends.” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Your actions don’t go unnoticed.” She pointed at him. “One misstep . . .”

  Marcus shrugged. “Look, we all want the same thing. Let’s get over our differences and work together.”

  “Don’t ever leave me alone with him,” Ingrid whispered to me.

  Marcus was evidently amused by her remark. “Right then, everyone’s gathered.” He tucked his hands into his pockets. “Alex, Sebastian and Anaïs.”

  “Can I see Blake?” Ingrid asked. “How is he?”

  “Doing well,” Marcus said. “Alex has him set up in his bedroom. The windows are already blacked out. Just a warning, we keep the door locked. With Blake’s consent of course.”

  I quickly added, “If he becomes confused it’ll prevent him from wandering out of the castle.”

  “Blake’s excited to see you, Ingrid,” Marcus said. “Go easy on him, okay?”

  “Of course,” she said.

  Marcus stepped closer. “William, we’ve come up with a plan.”

  “Let’s hear it,” I said.

  “We find Dominion, and hopefully he’ll help us find Sovereign. We get the scrolls and give them to Lucas to do his thing.”

  “Sounds simple enough.” I gave a crooked smile.

  “What if I go back to Sovereign,” Ingrid said. “Persuade Alistair to tell us where the library is?”

  “I’ll consider it,” I said.

  Ingrid turned to Marcus. “Fabian told us we’d find clues here.”

  “That was generous of Fabian.” Marcus shook his head. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  Ingrid watched him walk away.

  “Are you sure you can trust him?” she asked.

  “Marcus is a loyal friend,” I replied.

  She let my hand go. “Orpheus’s friend.”

  I resisted the urge to turn away, not wanting her to see my darker side.

  “Jadeon, I’m going to save you.” She gave my sleeve a tug of reassurance.

  With my arm wrapped around her waist, I guided her toward the stairwell.

  “I’m so relieved you’re alive,” she said.

  This probably wasn’t the right time to tell her that I was having second thoughts about going back. Until now death had never been on the agenda, for me anyway. Together, we made our way along the sweeping corridors.

  “I’m sorry about your father, Ingrid,” I said.

  She wrapped her arm around my waist and hugged me closer. Even though her grief still lingered, there was the subtlest shift in her presence, a promise of resolution for a lifetime of being weighed down by guilt. And I caught a brief glimpse of Ingrid’s authentic nature, the tranquility of her femininity surfacing.

  We soon found Blake lying on Alex’s bed and he was reading the Daily Express newspaper. Ingrid hesitated in the doorway, preparing to see him for the first time as a vampire.

  She rallied the courage to go in and rested on the edge of his bed, reaching for Blake’s hand and kissing it.

  “Hey you,” he said, shoving the paper to the side and straightening his back up against the oak headboard. “Well, what do you think?”

  “You look the same,” Ingrid said. “Paler perhaps. Can I get you anything?”

  He shook his head. “How long can you stay?”

  “As long as I’m needed,” she said.

  “Ironic isn’t it?” Blake said. “I become a vampire to cure myself from an incurable disease, and then go and get poisoned.” He gestured toward the blacked out window. “I’m meant to be out there somewhere, wearing leather pants and jumping off roofs.”

  Ingrid suppressed a smile. “I’m not going to stop until I find the answers.”

  “I’m so sorry I messed up,” he said.

  I waved off his remark.

  “Do you remember who you bit?” Ingrid asked. “We’re thinking the poison came from members of a group called Sovereign.”

  “They’re purposefully ingesting poison,” I explained.

  Blake cringed. “It was a bit of a crazy night. I went out on the town with Marcus’s friend Zachary. Though he’s fine. No one got hurt, honest. I can promise you that. Zachary was teaching me the art of the little sup technique.”

  “Meaning no one died,” I said for him.

  “I get it,” she said.

  “Zachary and I went bar hopping in SoHo,” Blake added. “We were kind of wild.” He ran his fingers through his hair nervously.

  “Well, let me know if you remember anything that you think might be relevant.” She looked over at me. “Does Blake know?”

  “About me?” I asked. “Yes. Everyone does now.”

  “William met with me, Sebastian and Anaïs earlier,” Blake explained, “and dropped the bombshell about what really happened to him.”

  “How’s everyone taking it?” I asked.

  “Pretty well,” Blake said, “though Sebastian’s having a hard time with it.”

  “Me too,” Ingrid said.

  “William’s been nothing but amazing,” Blake told her. “It’s important you know that.”

  “He’s helping me too.” She turned her head toward me. “In so many ways.” Ingrid’s deep brown eyes held mine. “You always did remind me of Jadeon. I just couldn’t shake that feeling.”

  Blake scrunched up his nose, gesturing his unspoken thoughts.

  “I know,” Ingrid said, picking up on them, “Orpheus is in there too.”

  “Great vote of confidence.” I folded my arms. “For the record I feel like me, whatever that means.”

  Ingrid turned back to Blake. “Can I get you anything?”

  “You’ve already asked me that,” he said, “and the answer’s still no.”

  “He can’t stay locked up in here all day,” Ingrid said.

  “We need to keep track of him,” I said.

  She frowned. “This room is so bare it’ll drive him crazy.”

  “I’m here!” Blake waved his hand and beamed a cheeky smile. “I could cut the sexual tension with a knife.”
>
  I shook my head, quietly amused.

  “So what now?” Blake asked, as though changing the subject would undo his last words.

  “We’re all going to be working on this,” she said. “We have our work cut out, but nothing we can’t handle.”

  “Isn’t Vanderbilt hounding you?” Blake asked.

  “I’ve taken some personal days,” she said. “He seems okay with it.”

  “Must be his imminent promotion keeping him happy.” He winked her way. “We’re lucky to have you, Ingrid.” He glanced over at the chessboard, the pieces set in their opening positions. “Tell Alex to prepare to be conquered.”

  Ingrid kissed his forehead. “You’re family, you know that.”

  He scooched down the bed and pulled the blankets up and over his head, his voice muffled from underneath. “Go find those bastards who are doing this, and stop being so uncharacteristically sensitive.”

  Ingrid feigned being offended, resting her hands on her hips, smiling affectionately at Blake who was still hidden beneath the bedspread.

  “Let’s join the others,” I mouthed.

  She stared off at nothing, her thoughts seemingly racing. “How’s Alex going to react when he sees me?”

  “He’ll be fine,” I said. “I’ve had a long chat with him.”

  “I’m going to hang out here for a while.” Ingrid sat again. “Just need to gather my thoughts.” She reached for Blake’s hand and pulled it from beneath the sheets.

  Even my unspoken words felt out of place.

  Blake reappeared from beneath the sheets. “Can I have my hand back before you break it?”

  She cringed. “Sorry.”

  I left and gave them the privacy they needed.

  Within minutes of entering the library, I was met by a worrisome Alex who seemed as equally anxious about being in the same room as Ingrid as she was with him.

  Sebastian, Marcus and Anaïs were riveted, waiting for me to answer his question.

  I said at last, “Yes, Alex, we can trust Ingrid.”

  The table was stacked high with books, some opened at random pages, some waiting their turn to be read or follow in the same fate as others and become discarded and thrown to the floor.

  I picked up one of them, reluctant to step over it. “Careful, some of these are antiques.”

  “There’s more at stake than your beloved library,” Marcus said.

  “Jadeon’s library,” Alex mumbled.

  I peered down at the table, wondering how long it would take for us to read all of them.

  “Ingrid’s agreed to help us?” Anaïs asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “How do you know she won’t use everything she learns against us?” Alex asked.

  “Because I do,” I said flatly.

  “She’s invested in helping Blake,” Marcus reassured Alex.

  “That’s great!” Sebastian opened his hands. “Isn’t it?”

  “Are we still friends?” I asked Sebastian.

  He changed his stance. “Is there anything else you’re keeping from me? I mean, it’s hard to keep up with all your fanciful secrets, William.”

  “I’ve told you everything, Seb, you have my word.” I addressed the others. “We all proceed with complete honesty from here on in, understand?” I put down the book and reached for another. “Any mention of Dominion in any of these?”

  “None,” Anaïs answered.

  “What if Fabian is Dominion?” Marcus shook his head.

  “He’s not,” I said. “Apparently Dominion was in his twenties when turned. Fabian insisted the answers could be found here.”

  “No other clue than that?” Alex asked, astonished. “Why is Fabian always so elusive?”

  Sebastian asked the obvious question. “Why doesn’t Fabian find Dominion?”

  “He’s asked us to,” I said.

  Ingrid entered and headed straight toward us. “What’ve you got so far?”

  “Books,” Marcus said. “A library full.”

  “I’ve got a feeling we won’t find the answer here.” She rested her fingers on her mouth, thinking. “What about those books in the anteroom?”

  “How do you know about those?” Alex asked.

  “They’re just religious text,” I said.

  Ingrid’s brow furrowed. “Wouldn’t a secret society have a safe place to keep their prized documents?”

  “I’ve lived in this castle for over two hundred years,” Alex said. “I know every inch, intimately.”

  “Jadeon told me that the Mount has a number of secret staircases,” Ingrid said.

  On Alex’s nervous glance I said, “Didn’t show them to you though.”

  “Bet I could find them.” Ingrid grinned.

  Marcus snapped his head round to look at Alex and smiled his way. “Inside voice, Alex.”

  Alex shrugged. “I was merely going to suggest we stop wasting time.”

  Ingrid moved over to the large bookcase to our left. “What’s behind there?”

  “A wall,” Alex said.

  “And you know that for sure?” Ingrid asked.

  Marcus and Alex heaved the bookcase forward, their supernatural strength making easy work of it.

  Alex peered behind. “Well, look at that!”

  Ingrid peered at him suspiciously.

  “A wall,” he said.

  Sebastian reached for one of the books on the table. “We have to split up the rest of these.”

  “Why not just go after Sovereign?” Anaïs asked.

  “We must find Dominion first,” Marcus said. “That’s our priority.”

  “Dominion will bring down Sovereign,” I added. “Fabian’s confirmed they’re responsible for the poisonings.”

  Ingrid strolled over toward the bookcase and peeked behind it.

  Marcus sat on the edge of the table. “I’ll use the network to send word out we’re looking for Dominion.”

  “Slow down,” I said, “We don’t want to send him underground.”

  “I’ve gathered all the books I considered relevant.” Sebastian leaned over the table. “One hundred, give or take. That’s twenty each.” He started stacking them into five piles.

  Ingrid knelt close to a canvas leaning against the wall and turned it round, dusting it off. It was one of my discarded paintings of Alex that I’d never finished. Alex had become bored posing for it and walked off halfway through a sitting. I’d never found the time to revisit the canvas.

  “Where are the other secret tunnels?” Anaïs sounded excited. “I’d love check out those.”

  “Privileged information.” I winked at Alex.

  Ingrid approached him. “You look just like your mother.” She raised an eyebrow. “Jadeon just like his father, but neither of you have his temperament.”

  “Jadeon told you that?” Alex asked.

  “He did.” Ingrid’s face lit up.

  “Go on Ingrid,” Marcus said. “I know you’re dying to tell us.”

  “Lord William Artimas must have had a contingency plan. In the only way the Master of a secret society can.” Ingrid headed out of the library.

  We followed her into the foyer toward the east corridor leading toward the dungeons.

  She paused halfway and stared up at a portrait of the late Lord William Artimas. The artist, Italian painter Alberti Garbodar who’d been commissioned to paint this great nobleman, had done an exemplary job using tempura and oil on wood to capture his intensity; the weight of his responsibilities skillfully etched into the lines of his face. Lord Artimas’s posture was proud, his left hand casually but somewhat awkwardly resting on the long armrest, his forefinger pointing to the floor.

  “That’s your father?” Anaïs put her arm through Alex’s. “Scary looking.”

  “You have no idea,” he said.

  I nudged up toward Ingrid. “His pose?”

  “Maybe Artimas was trying to get a message to you,” she said. “Perhaps just in case he died before he passed on his legacy?”

  �
��We didn’t catch it,” I admitted.

  “We didn’t like looking at him,” Alex said.

  “Where did this painting originally hang?” Ingrid asked.

  “It’s been here for decades.” Alex leaned in. “Before that the anteroom.”

  An uncomfortable quiet ensued as Lord Artimas’s steely-eyes judged us from the portrait.

  “Really does look like he’s pointing to the floor,” Anaïs said softly. “What’s the insignia on his ring?”

  “The Stone Masters crest.” I lifted the painting off the wall and carried it toward the anteroom.

  The others followed, all as eager as me to see if our hunch was right.

  Alex was particularly pensive.

  “I’m not planning on arresting you, Alex,” Ingrid said, catching his trepidation. “I’m concentrating on helping both Blake and William now.”

  “Why the change of heart?” Alex asked her suspiciously.

  “William’s convinced me you had nothing to do with those girls’ deaths,” she said.

  “And you believe him?” Alex asked, surprised he was off the hook.

  “Yes, I really do,” she said. “Now, can we be friends?”

  “No,” Alex said bluntly.

  Marcus pointed to Alex. “Don’t worry about him, he has father issues.”

  “Lord Artimas threatened to slit my horse’s throat.” Alex clenched his teeth, remembering. “And there was nothing wrong with her.”

  “Seriously, Alex,” Marcus said, “that was two hundred years ago. Is that the average time you hold onto a grudge?”

  “He was also ready to bleed me to death. Mustn’t forget that.”

  Anaïs cringed. “That kind of stuff stays with you.”

  The anteroom hadn’t changed in two hundred years, and by the looks of things neither had the dust. Marcus and I knelt before the fireplace and unraveled the worn rug back into the room. Dust powdered up.

  “We renovated some of the castle but never touched this room,” I said, balancing the painting on one of the four high-backed armchairs.

  “Because no one ever came in here,” Alex said.

  “Which tile do you think Artimas is pointing at?” Ingrid asked.

  I lifted up one of the chairs and placed it in the exact position as the one in the portrait, aligning the background fireplace in the painting exactly with the one in the room.

  Kneeling, I examined the tiles. After my third attempt one of them gave and I lifted it out. Sliding my fingers into the hole I felt something hard and grabbed hold of it, removing a small metal box.