by Maya DeLeina
“We obviously did nothing to this room but install lighting and a drainage system in the middle. When the workers excavated the area, they found this cavern tucked in to the mountain. We kept it basically how it was found.”
Anya examined the room. It was cold. Water seeped from the walls.
“It looks like a torture chamber from the medieval era,” Anya said as she focused on the leg and arm restraints embedded in the cavern’s wall. In the corner sat a modern-day appliance that seemed out of place for the setting.
“A fridge?” she asked.
“We have Submission injections in there. We don’t mass-produce these or keep them in the lab. It would be deadly if they fell into the wrong hands. We have to use the Submission drug on the vampires who break our laws to diminish their strength. It allows punishment devices to be effective and prepares others peacefully…for death.”
Anya continued to survey the room as Steffan’s eyes watched her every move.
Anya pointed to the line of objects pushed up against the wall that looked like iron sarcophaguses. They sat in a semicircle toward the back of the cavern, surrounding the large drain in the ground.
“Those are the death chambers. You will need to see this and understand why we do this. Come.” Steffan held out his hand for Anya.
Anya placed her hands in Steffan’s as they made their way to the death chambers.
“Well, you were correct with your initial assessment for this room looking like a medieval torture chamber.” Steffan placed his hand on one of the coffin-like, iron structures. “These are fashioned after the iron maiden.”
Steffan released the hinge, and the structure sprung open. Anya gasped and took a step back as she saw the spikes protruding from the cavity of the doors.
“Why! Why would you do this?” Anya shouted.
“Anya, we have to. This is what I want you to understand,” Steffan pleaded.
“To understand that your kind resorts to torture?”
“No. That we must take drastic means in order to kill a vampire.”
“How…How does this work?”
“When these doors are shut, the spikes pierce the body of the vampire while they are pinned in a standing position. This little door up here, by the face, allows us to verify that death has occurred. The blood seeps through these holes at the bottom near the feet, and we slanted the floor in this area so it can drain directly in this system here.”
“But why this method? It seems so barbaric! Was there nothing else that could do this more…humanely, like a bullet to the head, stake through the heart, throwing silver on them? ”
Steffan shook his head. “Anya, we’re immortal. Our bodies would heal with a bullet in the head or stake through the heart. And the silver? That would do nothing but just piss us off.” He raised his hand to expose his wedding band. “This is made of silver. Don’t believe all you read or see in the movies about us. Silver doesn’t burn or cut us.”
Steffan walked back toward the contraption. “We had to understand how we could perish in order to sentence someone to death successfully. Anya, an immortal can perish two ways—by exposure to sunlight and from depletion. Exposed sunlight will burn us, but we didn’t want that out on display in the open, so we had to look at the alternative. We need fluid, blood in our veins, to stay in existence. Depletion is a process where the body expels blood from the system either by drying up and dissipating or by a rapid and massive bleed out. Our blood is what sustains our abilities as vampires. With a rapid depletion process, our body’s repair mechanisms are not engaged, they just sit dormant. Therefore, we can’t heal ourselves.”
Anya shook. Steffan put his arm around her shoulders to comfort her before continuing. “Now, we can also heal wounds with our saliva. The healing properties in saliva are still active even during depletion so we had to take that into account as well.” Steffan pointed to the death chamber. “This was the only way, Anya. It causes the massive bleed out, a depletion, and suspends the victim in a standing position so they do not have the ability to use their saliva to heal the wounds.”
“How long does it take for them to extinguish, as you say?”
“It varies. Some have taken minutes. For others, it was hours.”
Anya shuddered at the thought of what a victim would experience in the contraption.
“Anya, I wanted you to see this, to understand what the consequences are for breaking the highest of laws. If someone even attempted to take you from me, this is what awaits them. Every vampire in existence knows about this. Even rogues know the form of punishment.”
“But how is this all determined? You make the decision on who dies and when?”
“In some respect, yes. Each lair has a council of ten. As leader, I am the head of the council. Eilian also holds a position.”
“So you all act as judges? No jury?”
“The entire family will bear witness to the facts in the case, but there is no true jury. The decision comes down to the council’s vote.”
“But how do you determine who is put to death? I mean, if the law is found to be broken, then that’s it?”
“We do have a line of definition to determine between punishment and death, but it’s a very thin line. If a rogue has committed the crime and has been determined to be too intrinsic in their ways, where no rehabilitation methods could change them, they are put to this death. The most powerful threat, however, is that of laired vampire who committed a crime using their abilities. You have to remember, there’s no way to rid a vampire of their powers. Death is the only sure way to assure structure, safety, and above all, identity protection. I know it’s not an ironclad system, but it has seemed to work all these years for all of us.”
“And families all around the world follow this?”
“Yes. All the families use this same method, but the contraptions themselves might look a little different. Every vampire knows of this method of death. No one is above the laws, not even I.”
“Well, I do feel a lot safer now knowing the sentence. I can’t see why any vampire would chance anything or go astray, knowing this is the consequence.”
Steffan locked up the death chamber and turned to Anya. “I hate coming here. I try to avoid it at all costs.” He led Anya to the exit and surveyed the room once more before turning off the light and locking the door. “Come on, I’ll show you the underground route to the house.”
* * * *
Ryan sat still in his leather chair, alone in his master bedroom.
He felt his eyes continue to burn, determining that they still glowed in crimson red.
His breath remained ragged with rage.
He replayed Anya’s and Steffan’s lovemaking in his mind. He closed his eyes tightly and paced the room. No matter what he tried to do, images of Anya burned in him. Her eyes, her smile, her lips, her skin, her scent, and her voice toyed with him. He grabbed his head and screamed in anger. He threw himself on the bed and looked up vacantly.
He needed a distraction from his desire for Anya.
He needed to be sated.
He shot up from the bed and raced downstairs and out the door, keys in hand.
Chapter Fifteen
Their laughter filled the great room.
Steffan and Anya lay naked, draped over one another along the smooth contours of the rock that jutted from the floor. The floor-to-ceiling windows remained uncovered, allowing the moonlight to spill through the room.
Steffan groaned. “This rock. It’s not very comfortable.”
“I can’t believe you have a rock in the middle of your great room just like mine,” Anya stated.
“All the homes at Ambrose Heights are built with this feature. It was my idea,” Steffan explained with a childlike smile splashed across his face.
“Neat! It is actually really cool looking. But if it was a heated rock, then it wouldn’t be uncomfortable,” Anya replied with an apparent chill in her voice.
Steffan hastily sat up and walked naked across the room toward the
expanse of glass windows. Anya propped herself up on her elbows to watch him.
He moved with charm, assertion, and utter deliciousness. The sight alone made her reach heat indexes that were immeasurable on any thermometer. Like a cup of hot coffee on a cold winter’s day, the vision of Steffan made her body tingle.
No longer was she cold.
Steffan moved to the fireplace. With a quick snap of his fingers, the brilliant orange, red, and blue flames came alive. In a mesmerizing rhythm, the flames danced, casting a romantic glow in the room. Steffan reached into a woven basket that sat near the hearth and pulled out a large patch quilt.
“Come here, Anya,” Steffan commanded.
Anya dismounted the rock eagerly and ran naked across the room on her tiptoes. Steffan wrapped the quilt around his broad shoulders and sat down on the carved daybed positioned to face the windows. He sat sprawled, legs an open invitation and his arms outstretched for her.
Anya moved into position. Between Steffan’s legs, she molded against his naked body. He cocooned them in the blanket and leaned back.
They sat gazing at amber flames, quiet and content. Anya turned her attention from the fireplace and looked around in wonder.
“What’s on your mind?” asked Steffan.
“I imagined the interior of the house to be a bit more renaissance or old-world, you know, to match the exterior of the house.”
“One thing about being immortal, you get to see trends come and go and really hone in on what you like. For me, I wanted the house to be very ethnic modern. I love the clean lines and spaciousness of a modern interior along with earthy ethnic pieces. I like to take furnishing from where I’ve lived and incorporate them in my home.”
“Ethnic modern, huh? I didn’t see that coming.” Anya yawned and cuddled deeper into Steffan’s arms.
“You must be exhausted,” Steffan said as he planted light kisses along the side of her face.
“I actually feel good. It must be the adrenaline from the entire day keeping me going.”
It was two a.m. On any other night, Anya would be sound asleep. Her mind drifted. She wondered what kind of bedmate Steffan would be. Would he want to cuddle? Did he hog the blankets? Would he snore?
Then it hit her.
“Do vampires even sleep?” she blurted out.
Steffan laughed. “Why yes. We sleep. Our bodies need time to restore and rest just like humans.”
“So when do you typically go to bed?”
“I’m usually in bed by 9:00 a.m.”
“9:00 a.m.? How could you have met me so early in the afternoon? You must be exhausted!”
“I didn’t sleep a wink.” Steffan smiled and let out a little chuckle. “It must’ve been the adrenaline in the anticipation of being able to see you once again that keep me going.”
Anya smiled. “So, I’m not tired and you’re not tired, right?”
“Right,” Steffan responded with a curious inflection.
“I know you said it’s dangerous to use Defender back to back, but would it be safe for you to use it now?”
“Yes. It’s been it’s been over twelve hours since I last had an injection. Why?”
“And you’re able to get around obstacles, like say, a gate for instance?”
“I couldn’t imagine it being difficult. My darlin’, what’s on your mind?” Steffan asked.
“Would you like to watch the sunrise from the peak? I’ve always wanted to witness that.”
“You sure you’re not too tired?” Steffan asked.
“Not at all.”
* * * *
Steffan took pleasure in dressing Anya in all black from head to toe. Even before he met Anya, he had purchased a closet full of various motorcycle clothing for a future mate, in anticipation of taking her on many rides.
“I’m so excited!” Anya blurted as Steffan fixed a neck warmer around her.
She was all smiles and could barely keep still. Steffan elected to dress her in heated riding gear for the trip. He even took the time to add hand and toe warmers in her boots and gloves.
“Anya! Keep still.” Steffan laughed as Anya kept moving her head to look around the garage while he tried to make final adjustment of her wool beanie.
“I can’t help it. Look at all of these!” Anya exclaimed.
Steffan looked around the garage. “I know. This is my indulgence, I have to admit. I love riding and each of these provides me with a different experience,” he said as he worked on securing his all-black do wrap to his head.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“Where does all of this money come from? I mean, I just would like to know if there’s anything else you’re going to spring on me.”
Steffan smiled as images ran rampant in her mind.
“Anya, our money comes from several legitimate sources, I assure you. First, we profit from Defender and Consumption sales. We sell them to other families around the world. The profits allow us to produce them for our family at no charge. Second, we buy and sell real estate in many states and overseas. This is how we’re able to build our communities well in advance of moving to the area. Third, we own most of the major clubs and bars in Colorado. We buy clubs and bars that are already established where the owners are ever too willing to sell since they’re riddled with problematic patrons. As soon as we take over, we somehow seem to clean house, you could say, and make the venues popular once again. Soon we’ll have another source of income coming in. We’re about to own our first investment-advisory firm.”
“And how involved are you in all of the businesses? I mean, are you in the public eye?”
“No, I’m really behind the scenes. Eilian and I concentrate on the Defender and Consumption manufacturing. Griffin manages the real estate endeavors while Haydn, Catrin, Rhys, Brynne, Aeron, and Gwynn manage the daily operations of the clubs and bars. Although, when they need my help, I like one club in particular, Zen Grooves.”
“You own Zen Grooves? I love that place!”
“No, we own Zen Grooves. You are a part of all of this now. You can choose what you would like to be involved in or if you want to start something new. If I could interject my feelings on the subject though, I would much rather have you away from the club scene when I’m not there. Call me protective and overbearing, but it’s just something I would like my mate not to be a part of.”
“I get it. I know what you’re saying,” Anya responded. She shook her head.
“Hmm…I guess there is much more to get used to in sharing this life with myself and my family—more than just becoming immortal.”
Anya sighed. “Right now, I am focused on only our ride here. So which one are we taking? Is it the shiny, red one or the one in the back that looks like a bat?”
Steffan’s eyes followed where Anya was pointing, to the Ducati then to his black metallic Versys.
“Anya, have you ever ridden before?” Steffan laughed at her childlike enthusiasm.
“No.”
“I’m curious. Why did you pick those boys there?” Steffan asked as he examined her clothing, zipped her up, and made any other necessary adjustments.
“Well, they’re sexy. They look like they go very fast. They look like they would be the most thrilling to ride.”
“Actually, those are not very comfortable of a ride for a passenger. And they’re not a very good choice for our ride to the peak of a mountain.”
“Oh.” A look of disappointment washed over her face.
“No. This is your first ride, and it’s important that you feel comfortable. This will be the best choice for our ride up to the peak. Trust me, your butt, back, and arm muscles will thank me in the end,” Steffan said as he patted the seat of his silver-and-gray Vulcan 2000 Classic LT.
“Hmm, why does it sound like you’re using the motorcycles for an analogy to men?”
“Because I see it all the time. Women go for the sexy first, not thinking about reliability, joy, or comfort in the long
run.”
“Ahhh. Well then, Steffan, you would make a perfect bike. You’re sleek and sexy on the outside and oh so comfortable to ride!”
“Now I like your analogy!” Steffan laughed. “Look, I’ll make you a deal, after your turning, I’ll teach you to ride one of your fast boys there.”
“Deal! By the way, I said that one over there looked like a bat—”
Steffan interrupted Anya’s question as he already saw it formed in her mind. “No, we do not turn into bats. We do have the ability to fly and manifest, but we only do this during snowstorms so we won’t be detected.”
“You will teach me this?”
“Of course. But, first things first. Let’s teach you about being my copilot on this bike. We need to go over a few things to keep you safe.”
“Safe? How much safer can I be riding with an immortal?”
“But you are mortal. It would be the death of me if something happened to you.”
Anya nodded.
“Let’s start with hand signals. This means left turn, right turn, and stop,” Steffan said as he demonstrated the signal. “You’ll have to pay attention to the road to see when stops are coming up and which direction it looks like I am going to turn. I’ll also squeeze your shins on the side that I intend to turn in advance so you know.”
“Okay. Stop, right turn, left turn. Got it.” Anya motioned the signals.
“You’re now an extension of the bike. Taking corners will require some doing. It’s important that you stay in-line with me.” Steffan hopped on the bike. “Get on, I’ll show you what I mean.”
Anya settled in her seat behind Steffan.
“First, squeeze your knees into my hips so you can feel my movements.”
Anya squeezed in response. “That’s not a problem.”
Steffan smiled. “Now, imagine there’s a line at each of our shoulders and keep them together. When I take turns, look over my shoulder in the direction of the turn. That is, if I’m taking a left turn, look over my left shoulder.” Steffan simulated the left turn motion, and Anya listened to his directions and responded with the correct movements. “You may have the sensation that you might fall off or tip over, but trust in my movements and the handling of the bike. Don’t try to compensate by keeping your body perpendicular to the road, and do not lean opposite of me. Follow my movements.”
