I tapped my finger on the desk and looked at the clock. I had attended school for a few years in my youth but I mostly had private tutors. Once my father decided that Marcario wouldn’t make a good successor, he removed me from school for my protection.
Seeing someone walk into the room, my eyes naturally glanced at the person, though I didn’t expect to recognize too many people my own age. It wasn’t like I’d had playgroups or friends in general once I was chosen to lead.
I nearly fell out of my chair when the steely brown eyes of the student met mine. His lips turned up into a small smile and he tipped his head to acknowledge me.
“Marianela, I finally found you.” Declan’s greeting made me worry that he planned to kill me in the middle of class.
Standing next to me was one of the most prestigious assassins of the Mielcarek Coven, until he had failed in his mission to kill the heir of the Sabourin Coven that is. Something told me he hadn’t gotten himself transferred to Wicked Reform to kill Ceyla.
“I see that Ceyla’s rise to infamy had a little help. My father would kill you for fucking your target instead of killing her. Is she aware of your failed mission?” I tapped the muscled arm that had killed many enemies for my father.
I had met Declan many times over the years and knew of his skills, but I wasn’t always privy to his missions. His failure to kill Ceyla had hit my father hard. I had fully expected to watch Declan die in the great hall in front of a mass of onlookers, but my father had spared his life. I wasn’t sure why, unless he hoped Declan would redeem himself one day.
Declan smiled and shrugged. “She’s aware.” His handsome face did nothing to ease my fears of him snapping my neck. The ladies had fancied him, but most were wise to keep their distance from him.
“I’m glad to see you’ve made your way to morals and ethics class given that you lack both.” I tensed up, preparing to fight my way out of the room if he decided to strike.
Chuckling, he pointed at me. “Good one, Marianela.” He leaned down and studied my face. “It’s been a long time. I always thought you were very beautiful. Hearing how you campaigned against your brother warmed my heart. If only we had crossed paths sooner, we might have been allies. Now, I must inform you that you’ve been marked. Ceyla wants you dead, so I will make sure that happens.”
I’d forgotten how charming and polite he could be before he went for the jugular. I looked around the classroom at the many sets of eyes that were watching our conversation. Declan would never involve others in an assassination plot, so I was safe from the other students, for the moment, but they clearly understood the danger I was in.
“I wasn’t the one who ordered you to kill her, nor was I the one who decreed that the Sabourin Coven should be stamped out.” I knew it wouldn’t matter to Ceyla that I wasn’t the one with blood on my hands when it came to the annihilation of her family. As Mateo Mielcarek’s daughter, his sins would be my sins.
He nodded. “I know, but people do strange things when they lose their family. Don’t worry though, I won’t do it here. Ceyla wants to draw out your death so she can savor it.”
“Consider me warned.” I replied curtly. By accepting her declaration of war, we had acknowledged our enemy status, and therefore, we were expected to comply with any rules of engagement.
He patted my shoulder and winked at me. “It was good seeing you, Marianela. Next time we meet, we will be on opposing sides.” He turned and left the room, leaving me on edge and paranoid. I wondered who else Ceyla had recruited to her team.
Trying not to panic, I focused on the teacher who addressed himself as Professor Palo Cotheran. I was safe while in class, so I would use the time to sort through the multiple problems I faced.
Thinking about the professor’s name, I looked at him more closely.
Cotheran was one of the ten original tribes of vampires who had been absorbed by the Mielcareks before the actual covens had been formed. There had been a huge rebellion when my great great grandfather decided to claim their land as his own for no real reason. Of course, the Cotherans didn’t like the fact that they were thrown off their land and fought back only to lose terribly and become slaves for a few generations. They eventually regained some of their status under the Mielcarek banner, but they were still looked down upon. I wondered what this Cotheran had done to end up here. If anything, he should be sitting at a desk, not teaching.
“As we discussed yesterday, we should show deference to the Mielcarek Coven for providing protection, shelter and blood to those who pledge themselves to the coven. I know there have been many skirmishes and wars due to power struggles, but the strength of the Mielcareks has already prevailed. We should be grateful for their willingness to let those outside their coven join them in exchange for their loyalty.” He spoke with a straight face without any hint of sarcasm, which was impressive. It must have burned his ass to speak so highly of the coven who sold his people into servitude.
I couldn’t help but raise my hand. “I’m sure your great great grandfather would roll over his proverbial grave if he heard you utter such propaganda. Your forefathers were crushed under the boots of the Mielcareks. Why would you teach these students such lies? Under Marcario’s rule, the brutality of the coven will continue. Which coven will be wiped out next? The Luzader Coven, the Vaccaro Coven, the Nygard Coven or perhaps the lesser covens like Averescu or your own, Cotheran? It took generations for your coven to break free from slavery. I’m sure you have your reasons for being here, but at least speak the truth. If the Mielcarek Coven stays this course, it will eventually force all the covens into slavery or annihilation and absorb the richest members of each. That’s what I wanted to avoid when I became leader. Sadly, I didn’t get the chance to do that.”
Professor Cotheran stared impassively at me until I was finished berating him. He finally nodded and looked back down at his notes. “You will see me after class, Marianela. Now, as I was saying, under the Mielcarek banner, you will receive the benefits not offered under the rule of the minor covens. That’s why you need to take care and follow the rules set by Mateo and Marcario Mielcarek…”
Stunned by his total lack of regard for what I had said, I stared at my desk in disbelief. What the fuck? If all the teachers were like Cotheran, I would find no help from them.
I supposed that I couldn’t truly be angry with the professors. My father believed we were at the height of our glory and often professed how great our civilization was, yet I recognized long ago that we were stuck in the Middle Ages. Just glancing around the school with its modern buildings, any vampire could see that the castles that protected the covens were no longer in vogue.
Despite my father’s best efforts to convince me that we should continue in our long tradition of violence and domination, I had made a detailed plan to improve the way the coven was run. I wanted to improve the education programs, eliminate the caste systems and celebrate the different covens instead of beating them into submission. I envisioned a golden age where killing wasn’t our main way of dealing with things. I knew it would take decades or centuries to achieve my goals, but I was willing to work hard to improve the lives of all vampires.
I doubted Marcario would deviate from our father’s vision of another 1000 years of the Mielcarek domination over the remaining covens. It was one more reason to hate my brother.
After class, Professor Cotheran called me up to his desk.
His eyes brightened as the last student left. “Marianela, I appreciate your spirit and your anger. Trust me when I say I hate reciting this propaganda night after night, but we all have to make amends for something. You’re right, my forefathers would be angry to hear me say these dreadful things, but it’s better than being in prison. Well, sort of. We all do what we must to survive. I know you can appreciate that.” He held out his hand to take mine. Giving my hand a squeeze, he smiled at me. “It pains me to do so, but I have to report you for your outburst. I hope you understand. If I don’t and someone else reports it, I
will be punished.”
I nodded, understanding that his life was not his own in this place. “I understand.”
He smiled and let out a long sigh. “I do hope that one day you get to enact your plan of unity. It would be nice to know that my descendants might not have to suffer as my ancestors have. I wish you well.”
“Thank you.” I left his classroom with a renewed sense of purpose. I wasn’t the only one suffering under my brother’s rule. The vampires needed a better way of life.
I felt my anger and hatred for my brother shift ever so slightly in a positive direction. Killing him wouldn’t just make me feel better; it would give everyone under his rule a better life.
Chapter 5
The rest of my classes passed in a blur until I reached history. I opened my book to find a list of names under the Mielcarek family tree. The list went all the way back to the ten tribes of vampires. I recognized all the names on the list from my tutoring lessons. When my eyes reached the end of the list, I was surprised to find that there was a gap where my name should be. Marcario’s name was next to the blank space where I should be and his title reflected his current status as leader of the coven.
Who the fuck had removed my name from the list?
I grabbed the book from the guy next to me and growled when he complained. Opening the book, I found the same thing. My name had been removed. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that my name had been covered in cream-colored paint.
Flipping through the books, I tried to find any mention of my name in reference to my father and mother or my brother. Nothing. They had been removed as well. My mother, who had killed herself after a bitter fight with my father, was mentioned more than I was.
What the hell?
I tossed the book back at the guy.
Glaring at Miss Giselle at the front of the room, I couldn’t control my anger. “Why have I been erased from these history books?”
Miss Giselle slowly looked up from her book. “Who are you?”
Pissed that she didn’t know who I was, I slammed my hand on the desk. “Marianela Mielcarek.”
She shrugged indifferently. “If you aren’t in the book, you don’t exist. That’s the funny thing about history. The winners get to write the history books. The losers only last for a generation until everyone who knows them is dead.”
Furious, I wanted to throw the book at her head, even though she was right. Scanning the book, I looked through it to see what other details were missing.
By the end of class, I had given up listening since the history book was mostly made up facts that painted the Mielcareks in a positive light. While I had learned about the backstabbing and the horrible deals made behind closed doors, this class was only about how wonderful and perfect the coven was. I understood the tactics it employed, but I wasn’t interested in hearing any more lies.
Quickly swallowing my dinner, I avoided game night in the common room so that I didn’t end up naked and tied to a tree, which apparently was a very popular game for some reason.
Seeing Silvijn pensively watching from the corner of the room, I tipped my head to him. Hopefully, the group would choose him as the victim and I would come back to a room of dead vampires. I wasn’t sure why he had decided to hang around the other vampires, but that was his problem. He didn’t want to be friends with them, which was obvious from his brooding stare and the occasional baring of fangs when someone made a joke or comment at his expense. It was their funeral.
I stepped out into the cool evening air and pretended for one second that I was free from this place. When the feeling passed, I decided to head to the training area I’d heard some of the males talking about. I felt like getting into a fight after the frustrating day I’d had.
Walking between the House of the Phoenix and the library, I followed my map towards the House of the Berserkers. Next to their house was one of the training areas. According to what I had gathered, the vampires used the area once the berserkers were done kicking the shit out of each other.
My ears perked up when I heard weapons clanging and loud snarls. Ah, how I’d missed the sound of battle. I picked up my pace and arrived just in time to see one of the berserkers rage out and throw his fist into the face of another. There was a time when the covens employed berserkers in their army, but they found out the hard way that berserkers were difficult to control. It was one thing to rile them up and point them in a direction, but it was harder to calm them down after the battle and keep them from killing everyone.
I recalled how Silvijn and I had traveled from my ocean prison through the outlying vampire villages in search of recruits. I needed warriors to fight against the vampires who had pledged their loyalty to Marcario during my three months under water. Part of me missed the fighting.
In the beginning, I had given rousing speeches about how I could fight the corruption of the Mielcarek Coven and bring order to the chaos my father had encouraged under his long rule. Sadly, after a month of campaigning, I forgot about the speeches and let my swords to do the talking. We inspired fear wherever we went. Vampires either knelt before us to avoid being taken prisoner or fought against us because they hoped Marcario would reward them if they defeated us.
Silvijn was right. I had changed during the campaign. At first, I had tried to be the person I wanted to be. In the end, I became the very person I hated. I became my father.
Losing my taste for battle, I left the berserkers and headed through the woods towards the ocean. I knew deep down I had left a piece of myself under the water. The problem was I didn’t know how to get it back.
I followed the scent of water until a different, more intriguing scent hit my nose. Blood.
My mouth watered at the scent of fresh blood. How I missed the hunt. While we were civilized in the coven and fed from blood bags, I had enjoyed hunting for food while campaigning. I ran my tongue over my elongating fangs. I wanted nothing more than to sink my teeth into warm flesh and drink my fill.
Finding the source of the blood, I tamed my hunger when I saw a group of predators gathered around something on the ground. Their cheers and taunts piqued my curiosity. I peered between their legs to see something black struggling to defend itself against an attack. Edging closer, I saw two rings of men engaged in a fighting circle inside a small clearing. The inner ring was swiping and kicking at their opponent while the outer ring cheered them on.
I had no idea why someone had foolishly picked a fight with creatures possessing claws and fangs. They certainly wouldn’t make the same mistake again, if they managed to survive.
Shrugging, I left the poor fool to learn his lesson and continued my stroll until I heard a strange sound coming from the fight. A low squawking reached my ears above the sounds of the shifters growling.
I turned and ducked lower to confirm my suspicions. When I focused on the black creature on the ground, I saw a black feather fly into the air.
Shit. They were attacking a raven shifter.
Without thinking, I ran at the group and pushed three predators out of the way to reach the inner row. Sinking my teeth into the man kicking the bird, I tore open into his neck, causing him to recoil from me in pain.
I heard the confused shifters falling over each other as I extended my claws and tore at the two men nearest me, drawing blood from their arms and chests. Hissing at the shifter across from me, everyone who hadn’t felt my teeth or claws stopped their attack and focused on me.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Move along, blood sucker.” One of the shifters with muscles for days glared at me and waved me away from their fight.
“It must make you all feel so proud to attack a solitary shifter. Do you get off on the power and take pride in kicking a creature smaller than yourself? No, wait. I get it. You prefer to isolate someone from their pack or their murder so you can bond with your own pack and jerk each other off. Congratulations. You knocked down a raven. Good for you. If you want to feel like real men, you should pick a fight with someone e
qual to or greater than yourselves. It’s a sign of weakness to need so many to help you fight a lopsided battle. If you want a real challenge, fight me instead. Or maybe you don’t have the balls to fight a worthy opponent.” I stared each of them in the eyes, one by one, until they flinched.
“This is shifter business. Last warning, vamp. Go home.” A beefy shifter with yellow eyes, likely a wolf or other canine based on his wet dog smell, attempted to get in my face.
I smiled at him and patted his cheek. “Don’t worry, darling, no one will think less of you if you run from a woman. I’ll even give you a head start.”
He cracked his neck from side to side and let out an impressive growl. A few of his friends gathered behind him while a few more hung back to claim the bird shifter as theirs.
“Oh, are you having neck problems, sweetie? Let me help you with that.” I quickly broke his neck and launched myself at the closest shifter, sinking my teeth into his neck.
Able to multitask while feeding, I pushed away the two shifters who attempted to pull me off their screaming friend. I turned on the shifter to my left, shoved my claws into his chest and dragged them outward leaving him bloody and in pain.
The shifter on the right jumped on my back and tried to sink his fangs into my throat, but I threw my fist into his teeth. I felt one of his fangs loosen in his mouth. He quickly jumped down to spit out the tooth.
Two more shifters came at me but unlike them, I didn’t have to rely on my fangs and claws. I was well trained in hand-to-hand combat and weaponry. Using my speed against them, I threw my knee into the stomach of one of them and pulled his head down to slam it into my knee. When he doubled over in pain, I placed my hand on his back and jumped into the air to kick the other one in the back of the head. Punching another shifter in the throat, I swung around to grab the wrist of a panther shifter and flip him to the ground. I kicked him in the sternum with my heel and launched myself at a shifter who wasn’t sure he wanted to engage in a fight. I was kind to him and drank his blood until he lost consciousness.
Bloodlust: House of Vampires Page 4
