by J. D. Brown
His iron grip wrapped around both of my upper arms and he shoved me away. The rush of cold air separating us was like a slap in the face as I tumbled against the barstools, losing my footing. Jesu caught my wrist and pulled me to my feet, an apologetic frown peeking from behind his curtain of hair, but I was too angered by his prior gesture.
“What the f—”
“You do not know what you are doing, Ema.” His voice was raspy and he avoided my gaze as he gripped both my shoulders. I wasn’t sure if he worried I’d fall again, or if he meant to keep me at arm’s length—keep me away.
“Jesu, I…” I shook my head, surprised at how my voice had sounded like a plea. My body still tingled with adrenaline and lust and hormones, but what was I going to say? I want you.
“Ema.” Jesu’s dark gaze studied me as he chewed his lip in hesitation. His brow pulled together, but instead of sternness or disapproval, it was raised in question. In fear. In hope. “Tell me this is what you want.”
I shook my head, trying in vain to sober up. “What do you mean?”
He wet his lips and spoke each word slowly. The urgency in his tone frightened me. “Tell me this is not just the bloodlust, Ema. Tell me you really want this.”
I didn’t know what to think. My primal desires imagined phasing Jesu into the bedroom and having my way with him, but was that really what I wanted? Were those feelings real, or was I as clueless as a freshman drinking the punch at a senior frat party? I worked so hard to resist him; I must not have really wanted him in that way. Besides, what would the consequences be? What would happen if things got complicated and awkward and didn’t work out? I’d lose my only friend in this world. I’d already lost my mom, my ex, my job, and my life. I couldn’t risk losing Jesu for an hour of sex. It wasn’t worth it.
He shook me. “God, Ema, I can see you fighting with yourself.”
I blinked at him, momentarily distracted. “What?”
He shook his head and let his hands fall away from my shoulders. Slowly, he backed toward the suite door, his expression tight, glaring. His gaze burned emerald flames and a threatening growl rumbled from his breath as he turned and marched out into the hall, slamming the door behind him. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. After a moment’s hesitation, I ran to the door and wrenched it open, but Jesu was already gone.
Maria
The carving knife sawed through the thick hide of a freshly killed caribou. Thin trails of dried blood caked my lips. My hands and apron were soaked in it as I peeled back the skin. My senses jumped from excess adrenaline. It’d been so long since I prepared a meal this fresh. The men and other abominable beings waited in the dining hall, where Naamah tried to bring them up to speed on the ways of modern life. My poor husband was asking fire not to burn.
I divided large portions of raw meat and organs on nine platters and then opened the refrigerator. My gaze wavered on the small amber goblet hidden in the very back. Would the opportunity to use its contents ever present itself? It seemed less and less likely. Apollyon was smart; he demanded all drinks to be served from the same glass pitcher and he never drank until his cohorts did. I might as well dispose of the poison before someone found it.
My hands reached instead for the fresh bags of donor blood. I placed them in the microwave and warmed them up before dispelling the liquid into a crystal pitcher. Phasing the entire meal, I whisked into the dining hall and solidified near the long table. I was careful to deposit the vaporized plates of food on the table before allowing them to appear. Then I solidified the vase in my hands and circled the table, filling everyone’s glass.
The six undead beings immediately dug their claws into the feast. Their snake-like fangs made chewing impossible and they soon gave up trying to maneuver around them. Slowing to use their utensils, they cut smaller bites and swallowed them whole.
Inanna, the only other female in the group, plucked the caribou’s heart from the platter and held it close to the Master’s lips. He bit into the organ as though it were an apple, juice dribbling from the corners of his mouth. She’d had a fit when Apollyon raised her from the earth. Not for being reanimated, but because most of her body was decomposed and wouldn’t heal except in the areas where her skin was tattooed. It was quite a sight to look through the holes between the tribal patterns on her face. I thought it curious that she had many more tattoos than the men, especially on her breasts and genitalia. For all her prior fussing, though, she didn’t bother to cover herself. She wore only a sheer silk skirt and layers of jewelry that once belonged to Leena. Poor thing must be tossing in her pyre.
The men were scantily dressed as well. Jeans and tattooed script were the top choices. I’d never met them in their first lifetimes, but their reputation was once legendary. They called themselves the Saga-Giga—the Black-Faced—after the ink etched into their skin. They were the original six to break away from the Ekimmuen clan and pledge their allegiance to Apollyon. They were only vampyres then. Now they were half snake, half zombie and filled the room with the stench of sulfur and bad meat. Normally, the Master was never sloppy with his work. He would have returned the Saga-Giga to their rightful form if time had not taken a toll on his tools. Instead, he’d had to improvise and this was the ugly result. Having served them all, I set the pitcher in the center of the table and went to stand near the kitchen door like a good little wench.
“Men,” Apollyon boasted. “I am disgusted by the future in which we have woken; a future where mighty vampyres live in hiding, in fear, while the human race prospers and dominates. This is not the future we fought for.”
He banged his fists on the table, rattling the dishes. Everyone, except Naamah and I, nodded their heads in agreement. My husband’s gaze fell to the untouched plate of food in front of him and he kept quiet. Apollyon continued.
“I would rather return to my grave and rot than watch my kingdom be shrouded in the shadows, but that would be too simple. Those humans, those… those swine should be the ones cowering from us! Warriors, I stand before you, ashamed. I had a mighty army, a vast empire that respected me, minions who worshiped us all. Remember what I gave you? We were mightier than kings, we were gods! Now it’s gone, wasted away by my own flesh and blood, my own heir.” He paused to shake his head.
“No more. As far as I am concerned, I have no son, no heir worthy of upholding the generous power I gave to all of you. There will be no more failures. I will regain dominion and right this… this sad, regressive Earth. Warriors, Victor is a true ally.” The Master grinned at the vampyre sitting to his left. Victor met the gazes of the each of the Saga-Giga with sternness. “While I laid in wait for my moment of return, Victor’s faith in his king remained strong. He formed new clans across the lands; clans that share our vision, men who see the weakness of their pathetic prince and have pledged themselves to my rule. Once I regain the Neo-Draugrian throne, we shall unite with our allies and declare war until both human and vampyre remember their place in this world.”
The group growled and hissed in excitement. They raised their drinks and saluted their king. My gaze fell upon my husband, sitting across the room facing me. His lips pressed into a thin line and his cheeks looked a touch paler than normal. I prayed he wouldn’t do anything rash until we had a chance to formulate a plan.
“A word of warning, men,” Apollyon continued over his eager admirers. “We cannot fight as we have before. The humans carry impressive weapons now, weapons that demolish whole cities in mere moments, and they will not hesitate to use them. For now, we plot and grow our numbers. Understood?”
Everyone nodded and mumbled their agreement. Then the Master gestured at Enki. “I have a special job for you, o’ talented friend.”
Enki cocked his head to the side and grinned. His lip curled away from a long, slender fang. A single drop of venom dripped from the tip and landed on the floorboard. It sank into the wood and then fizzled deeper into the stone beneath.
“I need you to track a very special vampyre for me.” Apol
lyon waved a hand at Victor. The Second patted a handkerchief to his lips and then bent to the side to unlatch the lid of the Master’s precious trunk. From the chest, Victor took out a backpack and set it on the table. My breath caught. The backpack belonged to Ema.
Apollyon crooked a finger, signaling for Enki to come. The monster stood and did as he was told. Apollyon unzipped the pack and dumped its contents on the table. Assorted makeup products, a book, and a hairbrush spilled out. Enki took the brush into his hand, closed his eyes, and sniffed it.
Apollyon motioned for Victor to continue. He removed another item from the chest. When his arms rose to lift the item over the table for Enki to see, my heart nearly stopped. Jesu’s portrait of Ema faced the room. The painting showed the young woman as he saw her in his premonition; brown-eyed, red-haired, tanned, human. Unlike his vision, she wore an emerald robe and leaned against a pillar in a rose garden. My jaw opened to say something, but my gaze flickered to my husband and his stern expression held mine. He slowly shook his head. My jaw snapped shut and I looked to the floor, an unsettling feeling growing in my gut.
“She is called Ema Marx,” Apollyon explained to Enki. “She is more than likely with my sons. I want her alive and unharmed, understood?” Enki set the brush down and then nodded. Apollyon waved his hand dismissively and Enki vanished from the castle, leaving only the stench of sulfur in his wake.
Chapter 7
I should’ve looked for Jesu. I should’ve demanded that we talked about the kiss. Part of me wanted him, I knew it was true, but at what price? I wouldn’t risk our friendship. A bad vibe took root in my stomach and grew heavier as the ugly voice in the back of my mind taunted me.
Too late, our friendship is ruined. Jesu wouldn’t talk to me now even if I tried.
I clenched my jaw and silently told myself to shut up.
Training. I need to go to training.
As confused and nauseous as I felt, I needed the knowledge of this world. Some time apart would give Jesu a chance to cool off.
I ran back to my room, shoved the text books into the bag, and then made a beeline to the elevator. It deposited me at the gymnasium a moment later. I found Bridget seated in the center of the boxing ring. She waved me over.
“Zee rules of vampire life are straightforward,” she began as I ducked under the ropes. “We live as humans do. We follow their traffic laws, their civil laws, and everything in between. We remain inconspicuous at all times. We do not vote or concern ourselves in any process of their politics, including warfare.”
“I know,” I mumbled while settling onto the mat. “Jesu explained that part to me.”
“Prince Jesu.”
My brow arched as I glanced at her, but she didn’t offer an explanation. “Right, Prince Jesu.” I pulled out Vampire Social Studies for the Twenty-First Century and opened it to peer at a map printed inside the front cover and first page. I frowned at the image, with borders drawn all wrong. It was like looking into the future post World War III and seeing the results, only this had already happened and I was being forced to accept it now.
“Since you were born in this generation,” Bridget continued, “I don’t have to tell you how humans act. I should warn you, though, they die fast. That means their world changes fast. We have to adapt quickly to blend in. Everything from your clothes, to your car, to your music must keep up. Pay attention to zee news. Take a continuing education class every twenty years.”
“How does vampyre government work? Do we vote for our bills?” I asked, wanting to dive into the lesson and take my mind off the day’s previous events. To my surprise, she shook her head.
“Citizen vampyres and vampires do not vote, only zee members of zee Councils. Every Council is made up of zee Head, Hands, Arms, and Councilmen. Each major clan has a royal family. Zee king or queen is referred to as zee Head of the Clan. They are zee highest order of zee law and have zee final verdict in all disputes. However, they can be impeached by majority vote of zee Council.
“Zee Hands are one step down. There are a maximum of trois Hands per clan, though some smaller clans have only two or one. Zee Hands act as zee Head’s advisors and can speak and act on their behalf in matters that don’t require zee Head’s direct attention. They are usually numbered Second-in-Command, Third-in-Command, and Fourth-in-Command. Should zee Head be unavailable for any reason, zee Second will step in. If he or she is unavailable, zee responsibility then falls on zee Third, and so forth.”
I thought of Maria and Naamah. Jesu had told me Maria was Jalmari’s Third-in-Command, but she acted more like a maid than a politic. I felt a little strange having opened up to her like she was my own mother, but there was something so comforting about Maria’s company. Even Naamah had a pleasant aura about him and I had only met him once.
“So they’re like Vice Presidents,” I said while sorting through my thoughts.
“Zat is one way to think of it. Zee Arms are zee next step down the hierarchy. Their number depends on zee size of zee clan’s territory. They’re responsible for upholding zee law in countries other than where zee Head lives. For example, zee Alpan clan has four Arms; Octavio del Lobo who governs Spain and Portugal, Ricardus du Loup in France, Benedetto del Lupo in Italy, and Constantine an MacTire who governs Ireland and zee United Kingdom.”
I looked at the map again and realized the Alpan clan also included Belgium, Denmark and Netherland. Jesu had said the Alpan king and queen lived in Germany. I guess they didn’t consider those countries big enough to have their own Arm.
“Zee Arms can vote and deal largely with zee R.E.D., but they cannot stand in for zee Head under any circumstances.”
“Like the Senate.” I nodded.
“Zee final step below that are zee Councilmen who represent each providence. Don’t be confused by their title. Zee Councilmen together with zee Arms, Hands, and Head make up each Council. Zee Councilmen are zee voice of zee Citizens and have voting rights. They deal with local immediate issues and zee R.E.D.”
“Governors,” I said. “Real peachy. They only thing I’m still confused about is the R.E.D. Jesu said it’s run by some powerful humans, but so far I only see other vampyres working here.”
“Prince Jesu, and don’t worry,” she scoffed. “Zee majority of R.E.D. facilities are operated by local vampyre citizens. It provides jobs for a lot of us. Zee human higher-ups are a bunch of rich assholes that are happy believing they have a say in what we do.”
“But… don’t they?”
She grinned. “Sure. Like I said before, if you mess up they’ll relocate your little butt faster than you can sink your teeth into them, and they won’t be nice about it. Zee number of humans who know about our existence is minuscule. It’s our side of zee politics that want us to stay out of zee light.”
“That’s not what Jesu—”
“Prince Jesu.”
My brow rose again. I set the book down between us and crossed my arms over my chest. “Okay, that’s enough. Why do you keep saying prince every time I say Jesu?”
“Because Jesu is a prince and you should learn to address your higher-ups by their title. Calling them by their informal name is disrespectful.”
“He doesn’t seem to mind.” I shrugged.
“Others will. You should get used to it now.”
My nose scrunched at the thought of calling Jesu prince or highness. One didn’t just make-out randomly with royalty, did they? The nauseating vibe crept into the pit of my stomach again. “You know what, I’m tired of social studies. Can we do some physical training?”
She nodded and gathered the books into a neat pile. “You can read them in your spare time. Let’s begin with a ten minute meditation lesson.”
I groaned, not wanting another reason to be alone with my thoughts, but Bridget insisted that once I mastered meditation I would be able to pacify myself in any crisis.
Kissing Jesu sure resulted in a crisis. Maybe meditation could be useful.
She tried teaching me three di
fferent techniques to relieve stress, but her methods needed some serious rewriting. I fidgeted like a fish on land while trying to clear my racing thoughts. After fifteen minutes, Bridget sighed out loud and rolled her eyes. She stood and dismounted the boxing ring, gesturing for me to follow as she continued toward the center of the gymnasium. We weaved around obstacle course equipment, then came to a strange device in the center. A wooden log about five feet long and two feet wide stood vertically on top of a mechanical base. The log had three thick arms sticking straight out; one at head level, one near the ground, and one in the middle.
“What’s this?” I asked.
Bridget reached back and retrieved a small device from her pants pocket. It looked like a remote control.
“I call it zee hopscotch machine. Ever play hopscotch?”
“Sure, when I was a kid.” I crossed my arms, already skeptical of this machine.
“When I turn it on, zee base will rotate clockwise. Your job is to intercept zee bars with your arms here.” She raised her left fist near her face in a blocking stance. With her right hand, she hit the outer side of her left forearm to demonstrate how to intercept the bars.
