Bethany remained standing, but her eyes were on the floor as though she considered falling to her knees and begging. She was a pretty girl, despite the grimy skin and knotted hair. She held all the requirements the Stewards had set forth: youth and beauty. Marjek and the rest of the Council were just having a bit of fun before they decided to change her.
Ming stepped down into the pit and stood next to Bethany. Celeste turned without a word, her face still and emotionless, and walked away. Ming looked upward toward the Council on the platform, a despicable little smile curled on her lips. Jerusa pulled back from the curtain just a bit, fearful that Ming would look down and notice her.
The soot and ashy smell of the room permeated everything, making it impossible for Jerusa to catch Bethany’s scent even though she stood so close. She hoped the same held true for her own scent.
“To be one of us,” Heidi said in haughty voice, “you must be perfect. Immortality is only given to those that deserve it.” Bethany seemed to whither at those words. “Strip her.”
Ming immediately began ripping Bethany’s clothes from her. The poor girl screamed, tears welled in her eyes, but she didn’t resist. Within moments she stood naked, her arms wrapped across her chest. Ming circled her like a hungry wolf, scanning every exposed piece of flesh.
Jerusa wanted to scream out, rush from beneath the curtain and smash that arrogant smile off of Ming’s face. Alicia must have sensed this in her, because she appeared beside Jerusa and placed a hand on her shoulder. Foster lay prone beside her, shaking his head with a firm no. The other ghost, the man with the mismatched eyes, just looked at her in a kind of wonderment.
Jerusa, uncomfortable with the man’s look of awe, turned her focus back to Bethany. She sobbed quietly, flinching every time Ming’s face came close to her own. It was just an act. Just a method of humiliation to show fledgling vampires the authority of the Stewards. In her heart, Jerusa rooted for Bethany. She was a fine girl, not only in looks, but in courage to endure such an ordeal. She would make a great vampire. It was almost over now.
Ming made one more pass then stopped behind Bethany. She glanced up at the High Council, a perverted sort of amusement burning in her eyes.
“What is your opinion, Ming?” Marjek asked. “Is she worthy to join us?”
Ming shook her head no and Jerusa felt the wind go out of her.
“She is not worthy,” Ming said. Poor Bethany nearly crumpled to the floor and would have, had Ming not caught her and spun her around. Ming pointed to Bethany’s back, where amidst the pale flesh was a series of four moles, none larger than a pencil eraser. “The Council asks my opinion and I say she is blemished.”
“Does the Council agree with Ming’s observation?” Marjek asked.
“Yes,” Heidi said.
“I agree,” said Cot.
“Agreed,” said Othella.
“She is unworthy,” said Mathias.
“I agree with the decision of the Council,” Marjek said. “You have been found unworthy and are condemned to die.”
Jerusa flinched at Marjek’s words. Surely she had heard him wrong. Even if Bethany’s small moles were reason enough not to make her a vampire, they wouldn’t kill her. Not for that. They would just ship her off to one of the quarantine communities. There was no reason to kill her.
Before Jerusa had a chance to spin the words over in her mind, Ming snatched Bethany by her shoulders and plunged her fangs into the girl’s neck. Bethany tried to scream, but the sound fled from her. She clenched her eyes in pain, reaching back for Ming’s face, but could not muster the strength to form an attack. Bethany’s legs gave out and Ming followed her to the floor. Ming finished the act quickly, killing the poor girl within seconds. She stood up, swooning from Bethany’s blood and almost tripped on the poor girl’s corpse.
“Take her away,” Marjek said.
Celeste darted back down into the pit, knelt down to scoop up Bethany, but halted for a moment as if something caught her attention. Jerusa’s vision was blurred with red tears, but she could have sworn that Celeste was looking at her. She backed away from the curtain.
“What is it?” Heidi asked.
Celeste flinched as if stung. “Nothing, ma’am. I was just making sure the girl is dead.”
“Do you hear that, Ming,” Heidi said with a laugh. “Your augur doubts your ability to kill a mortal.”
Ming’s eyes narrowed into spiteful little slits.
“No,” Celeste protested. “That is not what I meant. I only thought I felt the presence of life lingering in her, but I was wrong. The girl is dead.”
“It’s lucky for you,” Othella said in an annoyed tone, “that you are such an accomplished augur, for your incompetence as a vampire is astounding. In the future, be careful what you say or you may end up a victim of the Crimson Storm, instead of a member.”
Ming took great pleasure in Celeste’s chastisement, but she remained quiet.
“Yes, ma’am,” Celeste said. She scooped Bethany’s body into her arms and carried her out of the room. Not long after, she returned leading another prisoner, a man this time, down into the pit.
Celeste left the man in the pit and returned to her place. This time Ralgar came and stood next to the man. The process was repeated, the mockery, the false hope, the stripping and the searching. Just as Bethany, the man was found unworthy. The High Council unanimously agreed with Ralgar’s observation and the man was sentenced to death. Ralgar fed from him, then tossed his corpse to the side like a sack of trash. Celeste gathered up the man, leaving his clothes mingled on the floor with Bethany’s and carried him out the door.
This repeated until each of the Crimson Storm, Celeste included, had fed from two human prisoners. None of the ten humans were found worthy. None was granted a pardon and sent to a quarantine community.
After the last human corpse was carried away, Celeste escorted in a female vampire to be judged. She was in her late forties, early fifties when turned, but the vampire spirit had smoothed out her age lines and given the few grey streaks in her hair a glow of polished silver. The only flaw Jerusa could find in her was the rosy lips and crimson rings around her irises that indicated an underfed vampire.
Jerusa touched her own lips, caressed her own silky eyelids, wondering if she should apply some more of her own blood soon. She didn’t dare do it here, not now, where the Stewards and Hunters might detect her.
“Welcome,” Marjek said. “What is your name?”
The woman looked around like a cat cornered by angry dogs. Had she not been shackled, wrist and ankle, with a heavy band pinning her arms to her midsection, she might have chanced a run for freedom.
But there was no freedom from this house, not from the judgment of the Stewards. Jerusa realized that now. She touched the scar on her chest. The line of bubbled flesh tingled with electricity and she felt Alicia’s grip tighten on her shoulder.
“My name is Chloe,” she said in defeat.
“How long since you were turned?” Heidi asked.
“I’m not sure,” Chloe said. She appeared to try to remember, but looked confused. “A few months, maybe. I don’t know how long I’ve been here.”
The Stewards didn’t answer her.
“Were you born of the bite or of the blood?” Mathias asked. She didn’t seem to understand so he added, “Were you just bitten or did you drink the blood of the one that made you?”
Chloe looked horrified to have to answer the question, but a rough nudge from Ming’s telekinetic hand loosened her tongue. “I didn’t drink anyone’s blood,” she said. “At least, not until I woke up in the morgue. I couldn’t help myself.” Her voice grew frantic. “It was like fire inside me. I didn’t know what was happening until it was over. I didn’t mean to kill those people. I’m sorry.”
Marjek shushed her. “Be calm. Tell me, Chloe, do you know why you have been brought before us?”
She glanced around, unsure. “No. I don’t understand any of this.”
�
�Do you understand what you have become?”
Chloe gave a timid nod. “A vampire?” She seemed embarrassed to admit something that she had been taught her whole life was an impossibility.
“That’s right,” Marjek said. “I know you have many questions, but they will have to wait a bit longer. First there are some things I need to know. You see, normally when our Hunters come across one born of the bite, they will just dispose of that vampire and move on. But the vampire that made you seems to have bitten several others. Tell me, Chloe, who bit you?”
“I don’t know who he was. He said his name was Samuel. He was tall with red hair. He had a Scottish brogue. Very handsome. I only talked with him for a few minutes at a party, but that was years ago, when I was a teenager. He caught me outside and bit me.” Chloe looked down, unable to hold the gaze of the Stewards above her. “I never told anyone about what happened. The bite was gone by the next day. Does that help?”
“Yes, Chloe, that does help. Thank you. None of the others could give us such a positive description. I believe we know just who you are talking about.”
Chloe chanced a look up. “So, can I go now?”
“No, I’m afraid not.” Marjek spoke in a jovial tone, as though he were giving her a tour of the great house. “You are a weak specimen, not deserving of the perpetual life you have stolen. You are not Samuel’s first mistake, nor his last, but you can rest assure that we will punish him for what he has done.”
Chloe started to argue, but before she could utter a word, Mathias sprang from the stage in a blur of speed, snatched Chloe around the waist and bit into her neck.
Jerusa turned away, revolted at the sight. Shufah once told her that it was forbidden for a vampire to feed from another vampire, except when turning a mortal. The Stewards claimed it was to keep vampires from killing each other in confrontations over hunting grounds, but Shufah said it was to keep any one vampire from growing too powerful. Apparently the High Council didn’t follow their own laws.
It took much longer for Mathias to drain Chloe than it did the Hunters to kill their mortal victims. Chloe screamed as she writhed in her chains, snapping at Mathias with her powerful jaws. She soon weakened, though and after that, went still. Her eyes whitened, her skin grayed. Mathias, perhaps caught in a moment of blood rapture, squeezed Chloe so hard that her chest imploded. A spurt of blood shot from her mouth and it was then that he pulled away with a gasp. He dropped her to the floor, then returned to his place on the stage.
Jerusa held her breath and willed her raging heart to slow. No one moved, no one spoke. The silence filled the room like a thick smoke. A terrible anxiousness overcame Jerusa and she had to stifle the urge to rush from under the stage and run for the door.
Chloe’s foot suddenly twitched, rattling her chains. The noise seemed so loud, compared to the deep silence, that it startled Jerusa. Chloe’s spider-like fingers curled and stretched. She blinked her eyes, which were now the color of clotted blood. She opened her mouth, releasing a gurgling groan that morphed into a growl. She sat up, her lips withered and curled back, exposing dangerous teeth that now looked poisonous and festering.
The savage Chloe climbed to her feet, struggling to break free of her chains. She lunged for Ming, but staggered in her ankle shackles and fell on her face. The Hunters laughed, except for Celeste who seemed disgusted by this whole process. Chloe inched forward on her stomach like a snake, unfazed by the fall, biting at the air in loud ravenous chomps. She pulled hard and managed to free one of her hands from the shackles, but not without a great loss of flesh.
“Ming,” Marjek said and without another word Ming extended her hands toward the growling savage.
Using her telekinetic abilities, Ming lifted Chloe a couple of feet from the ground. The savage wrenched her left foot free, skinning it to the bone. She tried to run toward Ming, but her feet couldn’t reach the floor.
Ralgar stepped forward, conjured fire within his hands and sent a spray of flame arching through the air. Chloe ignited like a shock of dry grass. She kicked and pawed at air while belting out a high pitch scream. Ralgar intensified the fire to the point that Jerusa could feel the heat baking her face through the heavy curtain. The smell of Chloe’s cooking flesh made her want to retch.
Soon Chloe stopped fighting, stopped screaming, yet Ralgar didn’t rein in his fire. He continued to burn the poor girl, until even her bones sizzled away to ash. When he finally did halt his conflagration and Ming released the grip of her mind, the metal shackles, now glowing red, fell to the soot covered stone in a spray of sparks.
Poor Chloe was gone in body, but Jerusa thought she saw a dark phantom, the incomplete spirit of a savage, spiral around the room before rushing through the wall.
“Did you have to crush her heart, Mathias?” Heidi asked. “Don’t we have enough vile savages to deal with?” There was no real rebuke in her words. More of a friendly jab.
“My apologies. She was delightfully tasteful. I merely wanted to get all of her that I could. I will be more careful in the future.”
They marched in three other vampires, one by one, condemning them all to death for various reasons. One had been too lax in the rules, not killing all of his victims and allowing some to be infected. Cot fed on him and this time Quinn burned the body. Another had killed a rival vampire. Othella fed from this one and again the body was burned. The third was a vampire accused of sedition against the Stewards. Heidi fed upon him. He must have been an ancient and powerful vampire, because it took both Ralgar and Quinn to cremate him.
Jerusa wondered why the Hunters had burned the vampires that had been killed, yet not the bodies of the mortals. She wasn’t sure just how long these judgments had gone on, but by the time Celeste marched in the fifth vampire, she felt stiff and numb, as though all her bones had turned to ice.
The fifth vampire stood silent in his bindings, staring, without fear, up at the High Council. He had a handsome face with a strong jawline and bright blue eyes. Though he was of average stature, he had a well-toned physique.
“What is your name?” Marjek asked.
“Does it matter?” the vampire answered.
Marjek laughed. “Not to me, it doesn’t. Tell me, are you born of the bite or of the blood?”
“The one that made me gave me all of his blood that I could ask for.”
“Do you know the name of the one that created you?”
The nameless vampire shook his head. “He has no name. And neither do I.”
“No name at all?” Marjek asked. “I find that hard to believe. We all have names.”
“It may be that he has so many names that he cannot settle on any certain one.”
“He has many names then?”
The vampire shrugged. “It’s possible. I didn’t ask him. I suppose if he took the name of every one of your Hunters that he has used to improve himself, then that would be many names indeed.”
A chilling silence fell over the room. Though Jerusa didn’t quite understand what the nameless vampire meant by this, it was clear from their reaction that the High Council and the Hunters did.
The nameless vampire smiled at their stunned shock. “He did give me a message to pass on to you, in the event that I was taken.”
“And that message is?” Marjek’s voice was cold and distant.
“He told me to tell you that the Monster will have his vengeance.” His eyes flickered towards the tiny opening in the curtain. Though his gaze had only lingered there a fraction of a second, Jerusa was sure that he saw her.
Marjek leapt from the stage, landing silently before the nameless vampire. They glared into each other’s eyes, each refusing to blink. “Celeste,” Marjek said, without looking away. “Can you verify this vile worm’s story?”
Celeste drifted to the man’s side like a timid shadow. She reached over, her hand hovering as though not sure whether she should touch the man or not. She placed her fingertips upon his face and the man sighed as though he enjoyed her touch. Celest
e pulled her hand away, not near as pleased with this contact.
“He is telling the truth,” Celeste said, looking neither at the man nor at Marjek. “His creator is the Monster.”
A devilish smile curled upon the nameless vampire’s face. Celeste backed away, but Marjek straightened his stance, pushing out his chin.
“The Monster is a heretic,” Marjek said. “And we will not suffer his children to live.”
With blinding speed, Marjek reached out and twisted the nameless vampire’s head nearly all the way around. The man twitched, but made no move to run or fight. Marjek yanked the man’s head from his body and tossed it to the ground. The head rolled across the floor, coming to rest near the base of the stage. His body collapsed and his blood pooled around him.
Marjek stepped away, wiping the blood from his hands with a handkerchief. “Burn him.”
Quinn and Ralgar stepped forward and doused the man’s head, torso and pooling blood in a rain of fire. When the nameless vampire was nothing more than a pile of black ash, the High Council dismissed the Crimson Storm.
“Is it possible the Monster still lives?” Cot asked.
“Don’t be a fool,” Heidi answered.
Marjek left the room without a word. The rest of the Council soon followed. Jerusa remained beneath the stage, blanketed by the scent of smoke and ash, the grime of soot clinging to her clothes. She glanced around her darkened surroundings. Alicia and Foster were there, as was the ghost with the piebald eyes. She sensed a crowd of spirits surrounding her, though they chose to remain invisible. The only other spirit to appear to her was the nameless vampire.
He watched her with an intense fascination, as though he could see something hidden. Jerusa didn’t like the way he looked at her. It made her feel awkward and out of place. She turned away from him and started to crawl out from under the stage when the door across from her opened.
Jerusa pulled back and stilled the motion of the curtain. She closed her eyes and held her breath, hoping that whoever had entered the room had not noticed the movement.
Perpetual Creatures, Volumes 1-3: A Vampire and Ghost Thriller Series Page 45
