At Death's Door (Wraith's Rebellion Book 1)

by Aya DeAniege

“Lu is never going to change. The old man has been that way forever. We have changed, all of us but Lu. Which is why we call him the old man.”

  I sipped the liquid again, if only for something to do.

  “He said you change names, can I ask about that?”

  “It’s a way to shed identity. It helps us move forward in time. To not become like the old man.”

  I swore I saw a mask behind Sasha. I jumped in place, and the mask whipped around the corner and out of sight.

  “That’s Androgen,” Sasha murmured. “The face is pretty mask-like, mortals find it unsettling. Androgen’s Maker saw the look and couldn’t pass it up.”

  “He’s—”

  “In English, the pronoun would be it,” Sasha said.

  “Oh, oh! That’s why everyone keeps saying the name instead of applying pronouns? Because there is no good translation.”

  “Well, I bet you just annoy Quin.”

  “He’s gone through the entire timeline already!”

  “Oh, no, Quintillus goes over things in threads,” Sasha said. “So, he’ll ramble about me through the ages, then another night he’ll go through everything to do with Lu. Or about Death throughout history. Even what he knows of Wraith. Quin has done the most research on those two, as Wraith was created about the time Quin was.”

  “And Lucrecia is your Maker?”

  “Yes, and yes, I put my little brother in a box for six months. It was supposed to be longer, but we were afraid Death might find him.”

  “It seems a little harsh, considering what Lu has done over the centuries. Surely it’s him who deserves a box.”

  “You can’t touch the old man. If you try, he disappears for centuries at a time. He’s quite good at it. To the point that only his guards, or those who have served as guards, know where he is.”

  “Way too difficult to kill one of you.”

  “Nuclear bomb can take us out for several centuries. Well, decades and counting,” Sasha said. “Drop us to the bottom of the ocean and until that chain wears away, we’re stuck down there. I’m sure if you shot us into the sun, that’d be the end of us too.”

  “What about a volcano? There’d be nothing left, then.”

  “You’d think,” she muttered bitterly.

  “Has the vampire population been actively trying to kill each other in new and creative ways?”

  “Suicide, actually. We all reach that point eventually. When the poor fool came back from the ocean, the Council tossed a couple of rebels down there. Mortals don’t have instruments that can view the random area that was chosen.”

  “So, you go through the list of what didn’t work, I’m guessing by asking?”

  Sasha shrugged. “We’re told it’s impossible. They are very happy to provide the information because if we can find another way, wouldn’t that be great?”

  “I suggested a vat of acid.”

  “Tried that.”

  “Do you have suicidal tendencies?”

  “No, I have a temper and am very jealous,” Sasha said with the barest of smiles. “As long as mortals aren’t involved, the Council sees it as the same thing as attempted suicide.”

  “They’re hoping you succeed.”

  Androgen came around the corner with a plate of food. The food was set on the table. Then Androgen peered down at me.

  I’m not sure if the vampires are yet aware of the newer pronouns, or even the new use of ‘they’ but that is the pronoun I would apply to Androgen if I had not been told ahead of time.

  ‘It’ to me was meant only for inanimate objects, not for sentient beings.

  The mask-like quality was due to pale skin bereft of flaws. Androgen’s face was shaped like a Venetian mask, angular instead of the rounded. The lips, as they turned up in a smile, were even shaped just the same. Very much like an old mask, or perhaps a clown from a gaudy fun house.

  I don’t care what Quin says. Clowns are not funny.

  With clothing on, Androgen’s gender is obliquitous. Perhaps with that clothing off, for all I knew for certain.

  The hair on Androgen’s head was fine and white, eyes of red. Even the lips appeared almost bloodless.

  Androgen suffered from albinism.

  It must have been difficult to get through the centuries, with eyes like that. No wonder mortals were often frightened.

  “Can I ask the relation between the two of you?” I asked.

  Sasha motioned to the food before me. I took that as meaning that if I ate, I would be answered. So, I picked up a carrot stick and bit into it.

  I had eaten before leaving the house. That was hours ago, and a cup of coffee away.

  Which reminded me.

  “Bathroom?”

  Sasha motioned, and I left, leaving the tablet where it was. The bathroom had an elaborate bath, and a shower stall, but the toilet was simple and tucked to the one side in a closet as if forgotten. I relieved myself, washed my hands and returned to the table.

  Where I checked, because of protocol, that the tablet was still recording.

  “Androgen has been acting as archivist for two thousand years,” Sasha said. “Looking for anything before the Council that still exists. It’s difficult to trace that far back. He shared that duty with his Maker until something happened.”

  I chose to ignore mentioning of the other vampire. The Council was more compelling and immediate. I figured the second vampire archivist mentioned was probably bait anyhow.

  “When did the Council come into existence?”

  “About,” Sasha made a face and looked at Androgen, then turned back to me, “four thousand years ago? The first rounds didn’t go so well. Lu served on the Council even, but back then his vicious brutality was necessary. Times have changed.”

  “Who is Androgen’s Maker, er, if that’s not too personal of me to ask.”

  “Androgen’s Maker is dead,” Sasha said. “If Androgen decided to share that information with you, then so be it. Otherwise, it is none of anyone’s business.”

  “Oh, what about Lu’s Maker?”

  “Someone named Bau,” she said. “Spelled B-A-U. We know Bau is female and, so far, is the oldest named vampire. There was a sudden kill off. Vampires once didn’t teach Progeny so much as use them as Lu does. When it came time, they were either cast out or left on their own. Knowledge wasn’t passed down. So, we have what seems like an entire generation of vampires whose Makers were killed.”

  “By Death, I’m assuming.”

  “Yes.”

  “Is Bau still alive?”

  “Mutterings and rumour only. Once you’re on this side of aging, you start hearing things. There have been sightings, by mortals no less, of a woman throughout the ages. The description varies, but she’s always well rounded. Not fat, well-rounded. Curvaceous, and all things woman. Wherever she goes, fertility beliefs crop up.”

  “Like Isis?”

  “Exactly like Isis. And Mother Mary. Gaia.”

  “Are—it sounds like you’re suggesting that these figures are her.”

  “According to the humans, she is. She moves often, we’ve got one recorded sighting by a vampire. He came in, saw their goddess emerging at dusk all in shadow. She commanded her followers to catch him and bring him back because he couldn’t die. They ripped out his eyes and tongue. Didn’t grow back. The tongue, I mean.”

  Androgen seemed to glare at Sasha.

  I knew that would be too close to home to ask about. To ask if Androgen’s silence, paired with that glare, was because he had been the witness.

  “At the time, they were calling her the lady who brought dead bodies back to life. Of course, in their language, it sounds better and not so lumpy.”

  “But Lu is her only known Progeny?”

  Sasha hesitated, then said, “Yes. We all go through re-making every couple of centuries. Lu’s vanished from his home on occasion, but no one has been able to track him.”

  “We have devices now,” I said.

  “We have more accurate trac
king methods,” she responded. “Ones that cannot be ripped off. The old man vanishes for a few months to a year and comes back. It’d be hilarious if he had to go off to see mummy and she treated him the way he treated Quin.”

  “Makers obviously hold sway over their Progeny.”

  “Until their death. Once they’re dead for good, a Progeny no longer craves Maker’s Blood, even if the Progeny isn’t weaned yet. Ask Margaret the why, not me.”

  Androgen reached out and tapped Sasha on the arm as I helped myself to another piece of food. There was a flurry of hand movement between the two of them.

  “What?” I asked.

  Sasha sighed and shook her head. To which Androgen reached out and flicked her right on the end of the nose.

  “That’s not nice,” She snapped.

  “Then tell me what Androgen said so that it won’t happen again.”

  Sasha sighed again and glared at Androgen.

  “There’s rumour that Bau has a second Progeny, but no one’s ever been able to confirm it because he doesn’t exactly talk.”

  “Wraith? No, he was made by Death. Is it Death?”

  “It is. Rumour only. No one knows anything about Death.”

  “Except wherever he goes, bubonic plague follows. He was near Constantinople around four thirty-two. Or was that five forty-two? And was spotted in the countryside there by people in Quin’s village. Then again during the Black Death, when Quin was called by Lu.”

  “What, you think Lu is Death, and Wraith is Quin?” Sasha asked. “That’s absurd. I’d sleep with Wraith, totally do it in Council Chambers. I’d never sleep with Quin.”

  “Wait, did you sleep with Wraith?” I asked.

  I recognized Sasha’s tone of voice. It was one my roommate used when she was relating a ‘slutty’ story that was hers poorly disguised as someone else’s.

  “No.”

  “Having been alive just over fifteen hundred years, I’d think you would have learned to lie better.”

  Androgen placed a hand over those bloodless lips. Shoulders shook as the albino seemed to laugh silently.

  “Okay, maybe. But Wraith is hot, and I wanted to unmask him. That would have been so much better. Alas, he wore me out and was gone when I woke up. Don’t tell him that, though.”

  Removal of non-interviewee material by request.

  “Should I erase it from the tablet?”

  “Uh, erase the details, you can leave in that I climbed on that hunk of man and held on for dear life.”

  “Let’s go back to Death. He turned Wraith sometime around the Justinian plague. You said vampires feed more easily during sickness. Is it possible Death started the plague to feed his Progeny?”

  “For starters, that doesn’t sound like him,” Sasha said. “Secondly, I was new at the time, and Lucrecia was trying to teach me as fast as she could. So, I met the Council early in my immortal life.

  “Death showed up pissed. Written commands, like always. Someone had attacked Lu’s stock and wiped it completely out. Just gone.”

  “Why?”

  “The old man probably raped or murdered someone,” Sasha said. “I was brand new, so Quin was maybe born at the time. Mortal years come and go so fast when you’re new. Anyhow. He demanded protection for the stock. Death’s off and all over doing stuff for the Council. How’s he to know someone won’t eat his food while he’s away? The Council refused.”

  “Were they based in Constantinople?”

  “No, way too much fighting happening. The Elder Council, however, had a distant relative in Constantinople along with his stock line, which looked after his distant relative.”

  “Not Quin, right?”

  “Of course not. So, Death goes and takes a walk. When the Elder Council, now aged to just a vampire again, brought complaint, Death came back and killed him on the Council’s floor. He brought another command that said, ‘do it, or they all die.’ So, the Council did it.”

  “All the stock seems like overkill.”

  “He meant all the mortals,” Sasha said. “Before that point, a few animals would get sick. Not with this one. It was special.”

  “But then he went and did the Black Death!”

  “Mop up for someone making a baby vampire. Sorry, a child vampire. That got way out of hand, really fast. It was supposed to lay waste to one area. Not all of Europe.”

  I swore.

  “What could we do? Nothing. Then after Death’s last visit about four hundred years ago, I found Wraith just standing in the Council Chambers. I told him he should step up and take over.”

  Wraith must have some immunity against Death’s powers. The tool didn’t effect Wraith, not until he had ripped it apart. Vampires who touched the tool otherwise became ill.

  “All over Quin?”

  “Maybe,” Sasha said. “Death and Lu didn’t get along at that point. Death trying to kill Lu’s Progeny isn’t all that surprising. Especially considering the fact that Quin’s older brother and sister had both been killed before Death showed up for Quin.”

  Quin had said that sickness visited Lu’s house often, that his Maker had seemed upset when he hadn’t taken ill, that he had remained healthy.

  “Have you heard Quin’s story?” I asked.

  “Yes, why?”

  “Sickness visited the house often.”

  “It was fifteen hundred years ago, sickness was everywhere.”

  “But someone growing up at that time said that disease visited the house often. Then after a plague got out of hand, suddenly Death is hunting Lu down? Now that Death’s tool is missing, Quin’s trying to find Lu?”

  “When you put it that way, it does sound suspicious.”

  “What if Death carries the disease, but Lu’s the one who makes it?” I asked. “Death’s power might not be killing mortals in high numbers. He might just be the only one left alive who knows how to kill vampires.”

  “And Death went looking to wipe the slate clean after Lu got out of hand. Fantastic, let’s put neon flashing signs above Lu’s place!”

  “Quin wouldn’t like that. Lu’s still his Maker.”

  “And it’s time that Quin was free. Besides, what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.”

  Sasha’s phone buzzed. She picked it up and answered in another language. When she hung up, she made a face.

  “He sounded upset,” she looked over the table at me and added. “You should eat while you can.”

  I ate a little more as the elevator dinged. Quin walked around the corner and pulled Sasha out of her seat, dropping into it with a thump.

  “Rude much?” she demanded.

  “Fuck your face, brat.”

  “My face? How about I fuck your little human instead?”

  The two snarled at each other. Androgen rolled their eyes and stood, headed around the corner as the two began bickering at one another in yet another language. I think it might have been the fourth language I had heard Quin speak aside from English.

  I found it fascinating, how easily they all skipped about in languages. It seemed like if one language didn’t have the words they felt would express the situation best, they’d swap to one that would.

  Androgen returned, reaching over Quin to set a decanter on the table and a wine glass. It took me a moment to register the dark red colour and how it seemed to cling to the sides as it moved.

  Look up donors.

  Androgen set a hand on either one of Quin’s shoulders and whispered something in his ear. Then Androgen took the vacated seat as Sasha scowled at her little brother.

  Brother and sister were very much terms I’d put to the two of them. They bickered like siblings. I could see them feeling awkward after their one-night stand.

  Awkward enough to deny it had ever happened.

  Quin reached out and poured himself a healthy dose of blood. I couldn’t smell it. It wasn’t clotted at all.

  “Venom,” I said suddenly, as the idea occurred to me.

  “Yes, we may not be permitted to kil
l, but our appetites have not diminished,” Quin said, bringing the wine glass to his lips.

  If it weren’t for the viscosity of the blood, I might have mistaken it for red wine. But then, I’m not overly familiar with wine. Perhaps a keener eye could distinguish the difference.

  The red was not the colour of fresh blood, but slightly off.

  “Does the venom change the colour of the blood?”

  “Oxygenation paired with the venom and...” Quin frowned and turned to Androgen. “I told you to hide that, not feed it to me when I came for a visit.”

  Androgen reached out and flicked Quin on the end of his nose. Then the vampire made several motions and flounced away.

  I could be mistaken, but I believe Androgen told Quin to kiss their ass.

  “Well, why bother with the glass?” Quin said.

  “Androgen guards several artifacts that may be needed later. The remains of the Maker’s Blood from the old man is one of them,” Sasha said.

  “In case Lu broke the law and turned someone?” I asked. “Is that even still good?”

  “Vampire blood doesn’t go bad or clot without some serious effort,” Quin said. “Can’t die, but you can bleed out and appear dead until your body regenerates. Unfortunately, our blood is rejected by mortal bodies.”

  “Right, you had said there’d be no miraculous healing for me,” I said. “But hey, if you need healing at least you have a walking blood bag following you around like a lost puppy dog.”

  Quin seemed to cough, though his mouth was closed. Sasha stared across the table, at the wall, for a very long time. Ever so slowly, the woman turned to me and frowned.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I’m still waiting for him to say that you aren’t a blood bag.”

  “I’m tempted,” Quin said.

  “Tempted,” Sasha said while facing me. She turned on Quin. “Tempted? Mortals are only blood bags if they’re stock or serial criminals. Just because she’s lippy, doesn’t make her food.”

  “Fresh would be better, though.”

  “If you have a problem with my offering, Androgen can pour it down the sink.”

  “I meant to add to it.”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “Two-week-old blood that was mixed with a quarter of a teaspoon of Maker’s Blood just to hide the flavour. That is bad. It’s no better than stale bread on a truck stop sandwich.”