Dark as the Grave

by Peter Dawes

  “That is none of your damn business.”

  “You were?” I laughed. “What kind of coven produces such pitiful hunters?”

  “We are of Matthew’s coven,” another said, stepping forward. Shorter than his compatriot, he possessed shoulder-length hair hanging free of restraint. “And we’re hardly pitiful. You, on the other hand, are wasteful.” Taking a moment to evaluate me, he settled both hands on his waist. “Who is your maker?”

  My attention shifted to the other vampire. I bowed in a sweeping, gentlemanly fashion. “I am Flynn, of Sabrina’s coven. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  As I stood straight, the first vampire scoffed. “Sabrina? No wonder he’s rude. He has a whore for a mother.”

  I furrowed my brow. “I beg your pardon?”

  He smiled, superiority obvious in his expression. “You heard me, neophyte.”

  “First –” I held up a gloved hand, raising one finger. “– I told you what my name is and it is not ‘neophyte’. Understood? Secondly, what type of disrespectful bastard do you think you are, insulting the mistress of a coven?” I lowered my arm again. “You know what? I think that is what I will call you. Bastard. Since you lack the proper manners to even tell me your name.”

  He made the mistake of baring fangs at me, as did his friends. The look in his eyes turned from indifference to malice, and a growl underscored the words he spoke. “You haven’t earned the right to know my name. You’re a piece of trash, and I’ll show you what we do to the garbage that wanders through our city.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Bring on the lesson.”

  He hissed and stalked forward. My fangs slipped outward in response, my hand hovering over my stomach before sliding in a feather touch across my chest. The tall, longhaired immortal leaped for me, but I drew a knife and stepped back a pace just as he landed. Thrusting the blade through his chest, I sneered in his face. A look of shock enveloped his countenance, as within seconds the immortal became dust. Uninhabited clothing and flakes of ash descended to the ground.

  My eyes fastened onto the remains of what used to be a vampire. Never had I either facilitated or witnessed an immortal killed and with this virginity now broken, I reflected on just how I felt about it. Most vampires I knew spoke of the death of our peers with disgust. Instead of being repulsed, however, I found myself exhilarated. The Devil himself must have danced in the shadow I cast, for when I looked at the others, they both retreated a pace, their skin paler.

  My focus settled on the shorter one with shoulder-length hair, my grin becoming more pronounced. As fate reduced him from vampire to experiment in mere seconds, he must have sensed it, because he turned and began to run. I adjusted my hold on the knife’s hilt, and then flicked it with the same focus I possessed while working with my instructors, yielding the same results. His back became a bull’s-eye, his startled scream a death rattle. He fell to the ground, transforming into ashes as well, and I laughed as I regarded the last one standing.

  He shook with fright and held up his hands, a man with short, blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. I hissed and reached into my coat again, but he ran to the side and disappeared into an adjoining alley before I could draw another weapon. Rather than pursue him, I walked to retrieve my knife, my fury expiated for the time being. I only wished, as I wiped the blade clean, that I could leave behind some form of calling card.

  When I returned to the coven, I beheld my brethren with different eyes, knowing I had turned a dangerous corner. One night had changed me beyond being a mere vampire; I knew the demon I was capable of being with a newfound intimacy and could no longer deny my carnal need to kill. It would remain part and parcel of my soul from that night forth.

  As I shut the door to my room and immersed myself in darkness, I removed my sunglasses and nodded to the silent jury of my weapons arsenal, bidding them all a good evening. I took each down to practice, placing them back into position reverently before moving on to the next. Night hastened into day and the shades protecting my windows began to lighten, nudging me toward sleep.

  I stripped my suit and slid into a pair of black, pajama pants, settling in for what would be a day of troubled rest.

  The next evening, a knock at my door woke me, forcing me from the twisted chokehold of nightmares that lacked any form. I trudged for the entryway, slipping on my glasses along the way. Not bothering to locate a shirt, I opted to greet whomever this was bare-chested, hoping that maybe it might be Rose so I could ease my frazzled mind with a proper romp in the sheets.

  As I opened the door, however, I beheld something that did the exact opposite of soothing me. Robin stood before me, a serious expression on his face.

  I furrowed my brow. “Is everything alright, dear brother?”

  “Get dressed,” he said tersely. “The Mistress wishes to see you.”

  I nodded, watching him turn and walk away. Shutting the door once he was out of my line of sight, I frowned at the darkness enveloping me in silence once again. The tenor of my older, more regal brother’s words hung heavy in the air, his displeasure more than evident. I showered and dressed as though preparing for my execution, my deeds of the night prior still a fresh taste in my mouth.

  And perhaps a foul taste in Sabrina’s.

  My gait to Sabrina’s penthouse lacked the confidence of the previous evening, and although I appeared outwardly nonplussed, inwardly, I anticipated the worst tongue-lashing of my immortal existence. Strolling past her bodyguard, Paul, I opened the door as slowly as possible before slipping silently into the vestibule. Quietly closing it behind me, I indulged in several steadying breaths before working up the courage to say, “Mistress, did you call for me?”

  A deliberate pause preceded the authoritative voice of the siren who had gifted me immortality, the redheaded vampiress with a temper cleverly hidden behind a veil of sensuality. Nothing about her tone offered me any comfort, or hinted at any fury simmering beneath the surface. It was unreadable by design.

  “Hello, Flynn,” she said. “Come inside. I would like to have a word with you.”

  Chapter 9

  I lingered in the vestibule for an additional moment, knowing I did so to my own peril. To keep the coven mistress waiting could mean execution rather than admonishment, but I found myself mired in the attempt to read Sabrina’s tone as though I possessed that ability. Even the costly hesitation did not give me any additional insight when I finally stepped into her room, so I switched tracks and took stock of as much of the living area as I could see from my vantage point. I perked an eyebrow at what I found.

  In all the times I had visited the palatial penthouse on the top floor of our building, a scattered collection of lamps had always been illuminated. This time, however, near darkness stared back at me. I stepped forward just one pace, casting a wary glance at the soft glow emanating from the corner of the room. When I saw it flicker, I reached up and did something I had never done before in any room besides my own.

  I grasped my sunglasses and slid them from my face.

  My eyes registered a slight tinge of pain from the candlelight, but it was not enough to burn. As such, I pocketed my glasses and stepped around the corner, into the sitting room where Robin and I had met with our immortal mother when she commissioned me to be her assassin. Thrusting a hand through my hair, I walked farther into Sabrina’s personal quarters. When I finally caught sight of her, my steps paused, my feet refusing to budge.

  Sabrina stood near a heavily draped window, her back to me, a raised hand parting the curtains just enough for her to stare into the night. Her posture did not speak as many volumes as her manner of dress did. A blouse clung onto her slender, yet shapely, frame and even from my perspective I noticed a few unfastened buttons of a parted collar that hinted at how much cleavage I would see when she turned around. I swallowed hard at the sight of a skirt formed to her hips, ending inches shy of her knees, and the stiletto heels that shaped her calf muscles into sensual curves.

  I began to s
uspect I was being seduced. And I did not mind it in the slightest.

  “What is it, my son?” she asked, her voice smooth as silk.

  My skin prickled. I studied her, regarding the red hair cascading down her shoulders, and fought the compulsion to follow the sight of her further into decadent thoughts. “Nothing, Mistress,” I said, surprised at how subdued my voice sounded. “Why?”

  “You hesitated. I called you in here, didn’t I, Flynn?”

  “Yes, you did.” I nodded when she turned her head to line me in her periphery. “I am sorry. I simply did not know what to expect.”

  Sabrina released her hold of the curtain, allowing it to fall closed as she shifted to face me. The plunging neckline I had fantasized about her open blouse was offered forth as though meant to be a gift for my eyes. My gaze met hers and had I a pulse, it might have seized from the tension building in the air.

  My mistress pretended she was unaware of it. “When I bid you to come,” she said, “You are to come. Are we clear on this matter?”

  I nodded. “Yes, Mistress.”

  “Good.” Sabrina gestured toward one of her couches. “Sit. I wish to speak with you.”

  Nodding once more, I walked to the place where she directed and sat, settling against the leather upholstery and hearing it creak beneath my weight. Sabrina sat opposite to me and crossed her legs. Her arm rose to drape along the back of the sofa – which was at once so close, and yet, so far away – lips pursing while she studied me. “Do you know why I called for you?” she asked.

  I suppressed the urge to jerk at the collar of my shirt. “No, I do not.”

  “You don’t?” The corner of her mouth curled upward. “You don’t even want to guess, my dear?”

  Taking a deep, steadying breath, I pondered the events of the night beforehand again. My hand lifted finally, unable to suppress the need to be busied somehow and settling for scratching at the back of my neck. Her lips quirked in recognition of my nervousness, and though I still could not trust the faint presence of humor, I decided to toe the water. “I believe I know what this is concerning,” I said, the ghost of a smile surfacing, “but I am not entirely sure.”

  “You believe you might know?” she asked. “Please, enlighten me.”

  “You heard about what happened last night?”

  “Did something happen last night, Flynn?”

  “Yes.” The ghost grin vanished, dissipating like smoke as I recognized an evident game being played. Sabrina lifted an eyebrow, surrendering the small curl of her lips as well. “Somebody told you.”

  “Perhaps they did. Maybe not.” Her gaze turned more severe. “Pretend I don’t know and tell me anyway.”

  “As you wish.” Pausing to gather my thoughts, I nodded once ready to continue. “I ran into three immortals from another coven. We exchanged words and things ended… poorly… for them.”

  “And what does that mean? Did you do something to them?”

  “Yes, I did.” Whether due to defiance or arrogance, I submerged myself further. “I was armed.”

  Sabrina held her expression even. “You were armed? With a blade?”

  “Several.”

  “Why were you armed?”

  “Protection. Self-defense.” I paused. “To become used to carrying my weapons around on me.”

  “And what did you do with these blades, Flynn?”

  “I murdered two of the three.” Inching forward in my seat, I held up a hand to stop Sabrina before she could shoot furious words at me. “But only because they were insulting you, Mistress. They insulted me as well and when they threatened me, I retaliated.” I hesitated, but only momentarily. The time had come to be truthful. “I do not regret it. Not at all. I would do it again, in fact.”

  “How did it feel?”

  I furrowed my brow. “How did it feel to kill them?”

  Sabrina nodded, but said nothing more. I looked away, considering the question for a few seconds before my gaze returned to Sabrina and a sinister smile spread across my lips. Her eyes glinted in recognition of this, almost reflecting evil as though a pool of water with me yet possessing a reflection. “I must confess,” I said, a tone inhabiting my voice which hearkened back to the first mortal I ever consumed. “I liked it a lot.”

  She perked an eyebrow at me, but betrayed the neutral gesture by surrendering to a grin before she could conceal it. She lifted her hand, finger pressing against her bottom lip, and my mind conjured the image of her licking the digit in a sensual manner, heightening my desire to do the most erotic things to her. I swallowed hard. Lust raced through me while her eyes melted into mine and although we both remained seated, I felt her presence overshadow me.

  “I can tell,” Sabrina said. “I’ve seen it in your eyes from the beginning. I still remember the first time you took that girl into your arms and finished her off. I knew I had a killer, Flynn. And a killer is what I see before me.”

  I stared, adrift and not sure what I wanted to say in response. “Thank you, Mistress,” I managed, “but I have only just begun this journey.”

  “I know you have. And you desire more.” She nodded and stood, walking toward me while extending her hand. Our palms touched before I realized I had reached back to her. I furrowed my brow while she smiled. “Come with me, dark son. I have something I would like to discuss with you.”

  Standing, I nodded. “Where are we going?”

  “To the balcony.” Her footsteps slow, she tugged me in the direction of two French doors. “You might want to put your glasses back on, lest the moonlight hurt your eyes.”

  My free hand slid into my suit jacket, producing the dark spectacles that I secured over my eyes before we reached her balcony. Sabrina relinquished her hold on me to open the doors and as they parted, a gust of cold air blew past us, tousling my hair and kicking hers up behind her like a cape taking flight. I stood in the threshold while she strolled to the railing and only when she turned to peer at me again did I follow and assume a place beside her. Her gaze shifted back toward the distance and I looked in the same direction, losing myself in the sight of moonlight reflecting off the windows of a distant skyscraper.

  “It’s a rather interesting place, isn’t it?” she asked. “I’ve been to Hong Kong and New York City, wreaked havoc in Boston and Chicago, but none of those cities enamored me as much as this place has.”

  I nodded, allowing my eyes to drink from the sight as though just as enthralled with it as I was with Sabrina. “I have not traveled much,” I said. “Only from home to my aunt’s house and then to college. This is all I have known for the past decade.”

  “And to think, you have forever to explore it all.” Sabrina shot me a smile, directing my attention back to her as an amiable grin touched the corners of my mouth. No sooner did I gaze at her, however, than her grin dissipated, a frown taking its place while her eyes lifted toward the concrete jungle surrounding us again. “They don’t like me here. You could live the nearly three centuries that I have and not rival the list of enemies I have acquired since moving here.” She paused to sigh. “Jealousy amongst vampires is commonplace. The heads of the seven covens are not immune to it.”

  “I did not realize they disliked you so much.”

  “Oh, yes.” Sabrina laughed, the sound devoid of humor. “Our peace is tentative and the slightest thing could shatter it. We maintain order only for the sake of common interests. No other reason.”

  “What caused them to have such a poor opinion of you?”

  “They fear me. I did not come here to be some subjugated puppet on a string, and they know it. They paint me as a nuisance because they are weak and too incompetent to manage their own affairs.”

  I snorted. “The three I encountered were definitely incompetent.”

  Sabrina turned her head, her eyes meeting mine. “Were they truly?”

  “Oh gods, yes.” I laughed again. “I only spared the third one because I did not think he was worth chasing after. I could have easily caught up with h
im.”

  “Yet, you didn’t.” She paused. “Isn’t it strange how fate works sometimes, my dear Flynn? How it brings us into these impossible situations and paints our entire future based purely on one decision?”

  “I do not understand.” My voice sounded lost.

  “Because you spared the one, he returned to Matthew and informed him of what happened. My shadow in the night, you must not spare anyone again, but this time, it was for a purpose. The name of Flynn has been spoken on the lips of an immortal quaking with fear. You have given them a reason to tremble.”

  Our gazes remained locked as Sabrina loomed over me despite her shorter height. The way her eyes met mine reminded me of teeth, sinking in deep and plunging through flesh to imbibe the lifeblood therein. I felt a chill run up my spine but confused warning with lust, allowing it to consume me. Our bodies drifted closer and Sabrina nodded as if to confirm we were bound in this dance, mistress to fledgling.

  “Your aptitude has proven your readiness,” she said. “I have seen it with my own eyes as you and Robin have sparred and heard it from the mouths of your instructors. But now I must hear it from you. Are you ready to be my assassin?”

  “Yes.” My response drifted outward with ease. “I am.”

  “They underestimate us both.” Sabrina’s hand touched my shoulder. It slid across my back as she circled around me. I closed my eyes when another shudder assailed me, but her voice continued wafting a wicked lullaby into my ears. “Matthew thinks you a neophyte in need of scolding, but you are so much more than that, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “What are you, Flynn?”

  “I am a killer. I am your assassin.”

  “You live to serve your mistress, do you not?”

  “Yes.” My fangs slipped from their slumber. Her body pressed against mine from behind, her lips touching my neck as I felt her lift onto her toes to reach it. I painted an erotic mental image of her breasts against me at the same moment her hand settled on me again, reaching around to press against my chest. “I would bleed for you.”