Morgana took a deep breath, trying a different tack to rattle her big sister. “You know Gareth killed Randalf, right?”
Mariza rolled her eyes, glancing down at her fingernails. “I heard a rumor. Like my weak little creation could ever kill a first-generation by himself. Please.”
“One word for you, sis.” Morgana sneered the next word, “Hawthorn.”
Mariza’s eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t dare. Father already banished one daughter for attacking another. What do you think he would do to one who killed the other?”
Morgana crossed her arms over her chest, sitting back satisfied with Mariza’s reaction. “Well, you wouldn’t be around to see it.”
Mariza huffed, sliding off the desk, stomping out of the office before slamming the front door of the campaign office.
Chapter Eight
Mariza stood in front of the campaign office fuming. She had been greeted with nothing but hostility since setting foot in this town. She had played along with Morgana’s taunts about Randalf’s death pretending she didn’t know, but how dare the little bitch threaten her with hawthorn.
She needed to smash something. Break anything. She looked around the pathetic little town her father and his new family had settled into—Oak Wood Hills—even the name sounded pathetic. But the ‘wood’ in the name gave her an idea. She would go break trees. No one would care about a few fallen trees.
She took off at blinding speed, not caring if any humans saw her—not that they would be able to. One thing she prided herself about being a Primus was her speed. Mariza reached the woods within seconds but kept running until she was deep enough not to be seen from any back roads. Mariza wasn’t even sure of the direction she was going. Eventually, she stopped.
This place would do.
She cried out as she began ripping trees out of the ground, her fingers burying in the trunks for a tighter grip. She tore the tree roots out of the ground, throwing each away like a match stick to a human. One of the uprooted trees flew horizontally, smashing into the others, their trunks splintering from the impact.
She grabbed a branch hanging low near her head, stripping it from its tree, crushing the section in her hand into tiny splinters. Still not satisfied, she stomped over to another tree. Preparing to uproot it, she felt a vampire behind her.
“If you don’t mind, please refrain from destroying any more trees,” a smooth voice spoke behind her. Mariza withdrew her hands from inside the tree trunk, turning to face this intruder.
“Some of us live in these trees,” he continued speaking, his gray eyes glaring at her.
Mariza crossed her arms over her chest. “What do I care if some lowly vampire chooses to live in a tree?”
The vampire smiled, but it never reached his eyes. Mariza liked him instantly. He seemed like her type of vampire—cruel.
“You probably shouldn’t, but I do.” The vampire bared his fangs at her, preparing to attack.
Mariza held her hand out to stop him. “Please, I’m first-generation Primus Vampyr. You won’t even be able to scratch me.”
The vampire stopped advancing toward her, retracting his fangs. He smiled again, then his eyes flashed with mischief.
“Well, well, that’s interesting. You don’t happen to know the Van Wildens, do you?”
“My last name is Van Wilden,” Mariza scoffed.
The vampire slunk toward her. He took her hand before she could stop him, kissing the back. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Van Wilden. My name is Ragnorok.”
***
Moments later, after accepting Ragnorok’s offer of a drink, Mariza found herself sitting in a hut built amongst the tree branches. She looked around, while her mouth twisted with open dislike. This definitely was not her type of housing. Why did Night Dwellers always choose to live in such horrid places? There was even a broken chair simply lying on the floor, untouched.
“Do you live here with your mate?” Her eyes flickered to another blonde female standing in the corner of the room who looked horrified.
“No, she’s not my mate. Svetlana is my second-in-command.”
“So, you don’t live in a coven?”
“Of course, we do.”
“But I can’t feel anyone else around. Shouldn’t there be more vampires living here, then?”
Ragnorok stared at her. “You’re quite the perceptive one, aren’t you?”
Mariza shrugged. “It helps in my line of work.”
“Now, Miss Van Wilden,” Ragnorok began as he poured blood into a glass for her.
“Please call me Mariza. Miss makes me sound like a young maiden.”
Ragnorok smiled to himself. “Of course, because you’d be far from young. May I ask how old?”
“A lady never tells, Ragnorok.” Mariza sipped her blood. She cringed slightly. The blood wasn’t fresh—it had to be a few days old. “But it’s been a few millennia.”
Ragnorok looked impressed. “So then am I correct in assuming Oscar Van Wilden is your father?”
“Yes, you’re quite right.”
“Your burst of anger in the woods, may I ask, could it have been because of your father?”
Mariza snorted. “No, I tore up those trees because of my dear little sister, Morgana.” Her voice dripped with venom.
“Ah yes, Morgana. I recently had the pleasure of getting re-acquainted with her. She and her parents have come along to eradicate my clan. Again.”
“Well, you must have done something wrong to attract the attention of The Council.” Mariza couldn’t help noticing Ragnorok wince at the mention of The Council.
“Oh, we only fed off a few humans,” Ragnorok said offhandedly. “A vampire coven has to survive.”
Mariza rolled her eyes. “Oh, please… a few humans? The Council wouldn’t even blink an eye. It must have been more than a few to bring my father and the others.”
“Fine. It was a lot,” Ragnorok snapped before composing himself. “And do you work for The Council as well? You seem to know an awful lot about their procedures.”
“No, I tend to pay my way by other means,” she said delicately.
“Oh, how so?” Ragnorok leaned forward.
“I hardly know you.”
“Tell me, and I’ll consider not punishing you for the thrashing you gave the trees protecting my clan.”
Mariza sighed. “We’ve already covered this, tree-dweller. Go for it. I’d much rather take my frustration out on your face than a tree.”
Ragnorok looked thoughtfully at her. Finally, he spoke, “Mariza Van Wilden, I would like to make you an offer.”
“I’m listening.”
“I would like to use your family connection to kill Oscar Van Wilden.”
Mariza snorted. “Do you even know why I’m visiting my father in this backward hovel of a town?”
Ragnorok shook his head.
“Of course, you don’t. I need Daddy to top up my trust account. My current—”
“Succubusing?” Ragnorok offered.
“My entrepreneurial efforts…” Mariza glared at Ragnorok, “… have dwindled in the last century. I’m finding it harder to do what I did before with the humans’ advancing technologies. With the internet and smartphones, rich human males no longer want to be in loving relationships, marrying the beautiful maiden anymore. I used to be able to lure men like flies. Nowadays, once they bore with the chase, they dump and run. And prenups… don’t get me started on that legal nightmare.” Mariza groaned, closing her eyes. “No, Ragnorok, I don’t want to see my father dead. I plan to live for a long time, and I’m used to a high standard of living.” She twisted her mouth again, looking around the walls of the hut.
Ragnorok leaned over the table, studying her. “Very well, Mariza, if you will not help me, my offer of hospitality is no longer on the table.”
Mariza’s eyes widened. “You think I want to spend any more time in this pitiful hovel you call home?” she hissed.
“Please, Miss Van Wilden, the door is beh
ind you.”
Mariza stood, her chair falling with a loud thump to the floor. She threw the table between them, the old blood from her glass splattering against the wall. “Don’t think you’re above me, Ragnorok. What kind of name is that anyway? The Viking apocalypse? You and every person in this place can rot for all I care.” She was now within inches of his face, her fangs bared, her brown eyes darkening. “I could rip you to shreds in seconds. You’d better watch how you treat me.” And with that, she was gone.
***
Svetlana leaned against the wall of the hut. “Vot was bitch speaking about?”
“I don’t know,” Ragnorok said, watching the empty door. “But I like her.”
Chapter Nine
When Gareth exited the campaign office, he sent a quick text off to Alastor.
Gareth: Impromptu training session with Mrs. V?
Alastor: Aye, meet ye there.
Gareth looked around and decided to run through the back streets of town, so he wouldn’t be seen.
He arrived at the Van Wilden’s home at the same time as Alastor who had a long face.
“What’s up with you?”
Alastor’s lips thinned. “I met yer creator this morning.”
“Ah, yes, she has that effect on people.”
“I don’t know how ye did it being around her.”
“Delusional love, my friend. I thought she was gorgeous, and she was the first woman to get my dick wet.”
“Does Morgana know ye lost yer virtue to her sister?”
Gareth scowled. “No, but she probably lost hers to Randalf.”
“Aye, that’s probably true.” Alastor nodded.
Gareth tapped his chin. “Though thinking about it, I must have a thing for chicks with brown eyes.”
“Aye, considering they’re sisters and share the same eyes.”
Gareth sighed. “Yep. Good thing I sent you a text then. Punching shit always makes me feel better.”
“Aye, that it does.”
They let themselves into the house like they usually did.
Vivienne walked out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a tea towel. “Morning, boys. What are you doing here?”
“Morning, Mrs. V,” Alastor greeted her.
“We thought we’d do a training session now that Ragnorok’s taking bodies,” Gareth told her. The faint smell of bleach hit his nostrils, making him grimace. He felt guilty for storming out of the room and leaving those bloodstains on the carpet. Vivienne had probably been scrubbing the bloodstain he’d made when he encountered Mariza. He opened his mouth, but Vivienne cut him off.
“Oscar sent you to check up on me, didn’t he?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
Gareth rubbed the back of his head. “Ah, yeah. Mariza stopped by the office, and we heard you two had a run-in.”
Vivienne’s mouth thinned into a grim line. “He knows I can handle myself nowadays.” Her smile brightened, her blue eyes lighting up. “Well, I hope you boys are up for a tough session because I could use an opportunity to vent my anger.”
***
They walked into the training room.
Alastor crinkled his nose. “Why does it smell like sex down here?” he muttered.
Gareth groaned. Cleanup had been a foregone conclusion after Mariza’s surprise arrival.
Vivienne cleared her throat. “Never mind. I’ll grab the bleach, and we’ll get started then, okay?” There was a twinkle in her eye as she tried to keep a straight face.
Gareth shrugged. They were in the first stages of their relationship. Of course, they were going to have sex. He wasn’t going to apologize for that, but he should apologize about the bloodstains upstairs. “I’m sorry about the blood, Mrs. V.”
Vivienne looked startled. “The blood?”
“Yeah, the spills I left on the rug upstairs when I saw Mariza.”
“Oh, that blood.” Vivienne waved her hand. “Never mind about it. Accidents happen.” She gripped the pearl necklace around her neck. “Right then, shall we train?”
***
Gareth blocked a jab from Alastor. He threw his own punch. They traded punches back and forth. Vivienne wasn’t kidding when she said she wanted to vent. She was putting them through a vigorous training routine.
“Very good, Gareth,” Vivienne commented as she circled, watching the two of them spar. “You’re improving. Alastor, watch your left side. You keep leaving it open.”
Alastor nodded, blocking his left side as Gareth directed a punch in his direction. Alastor may have an edge of strength over him, being fifty years older and all, but Gareth’s anger was fueling his movements.
“That’ll do for now,” Vivienne said, tossing them each a blood bag. “Drink up, boys. You need to keep your strength up.”
“Thanks, Mrs. V.” Alastor caught his in one hand.
Gareth grunted his thanks.
Alastor drained the contents of his bag quickly.
“Gareth, a word?”
Gareth turned to face Vivienne. “What’s up?”
“I don’t want to get involved in my daughter’s love life…” Vivienne began.
Gareth snorted. Morgana was constantly complaining about her mother’s interference into her love life.
Vivienne kept talking. “Have you spoken to Morgana about what’s happening between the two of you since your fight?”
“No.”
“In the training session, you were quite tense.”
“Yeah, I have a lot on my mind.”
“Anything you want to talk about?”
“I’ll tell you my Mariza issues if you tell me yours.” He pursed his lips and crossed his arms over his broad chest.
Vivienne laughed bitterly. “I guess I deserve that.” She leaned against the table. “But my issues stem far deeper than the attack on Morgana. Do you both remember what it was like in the beginning? When you first turned? The bloodlust, the insatiable hunger, and the uncontrollable urges?”
Gareth’s face softened. “Yeah, I remember.”
Alastor nodded. “Aye.”
“Well then, try to think what it would be like to have a newborn baby nestled in your arms.” Vivienne stared at the opposite wall. “Instead of caring for and nurturing her, you want to bite and drain the essence of her life away.” Vivienne rubbed her arms, looking down toward the floor as she spoke.
Gareth moved next to her, putting a hand on her shoulder.
“I spent the first six months of Morgana’s life locked away behind bars covered in wolfsbane,” she continued. “They say the first six months are crucial for a mother and child to bond, but every time I was near her, all I could do was smell blood. Her blood.”
“But you’ve got a great relationship with her now?”
Vivienne snorted. “Oh yes, we’re close now. That’s what you get when you have both lived for four hundred years. It definitely strengthens a relationship. But she’s much closer to Oscar because he was there for her at a crucial time in her life. She will always be a Daddy’s girl.” Vivienne’s tone grew bitter.
“So, when did you stop wanting to kill your own daughter?”
“And yer issues with Mariza?” Alastor asked, now walking over to them.
“It’s one and the same thing. Part of me was jealous of her. For so long, I had been fighting the urge to tear into my own daughter’s flesh. Then, within minutes of meeting her, Mariza did exactly that. Morgana was only four-years-old at the time.”
Gareth wasn’t quite sure why Vivienne was telling them this. It was like she had suppressed her feelings for the last four hundred years and finally had an outlet to let it all out. He opened his mouth to talk but didn’t know what to say.
Vivienne wasn’t paying attention to him, though, as she kept talking. “Have you ever tried baby’s blood?”
He looked toward Alastor, who also shook his head. Gareth’s stomach lurched at the idea of doing such a thing.
“I have.” Her blue eyes were unfocused as she talked. Gareth t
ook a sharp breath in, looking incredulously at her.
“I was out hunting on my own. We didn’t have blood bag suppliers back in those days. Blood came fresh from humans. One of us always had to stay with Morgana. I was in the slums of town when I came across the smell of blood. But not like blood from the vein, a weirder smell of blood. I’d smelled it before but couldn’t remember where. It wasn’t until I came across it I knew. It was blood from a woman giving birth. But the woman was already dead. As I lifted her skirts, I saw the newborn baby lying on the ground. Life was leaving him too. From the state of her clothes, I guessed she was going to give the baby away to an orphanage as there was a basket with a baby blanket inside and a note, ‘Take care of my baby.’
“I picked up the baby, thinking the least I could do was pass him onto the orphanage for her and give him some of my blood to keep him alive till they could get him medical attention. But as I lifted the baby closer to my face, the smell of his young, fresh blood flowing through his veins hit me. It was overwhelming. I should have placed the baby in the basket. I should have left him at the orphanage to see if they could raise him. But I was so hungry. I hadn’t fed yet. All I thought was if I ate this baby, maybe it would satisfy my cravings for Morgana’s blood. I wouldn’t have to rush away from her every time I kissed her goodnight to guzzle wolfsbane, so I was too incapacitated to go back and bite her.
“So, I cleaned the mother’s blood off the child with my tongue. The baby stirred a little, his cries echoing in the night. I should have stopped there. But I didn’t.” Vivienne closed her eyes as she recalled the memory. “I bit into the baby’s barely formed neck, nearly snapping it in the process and sucked the little life he had remaining in him. The cry as I bit into his soft flesh… the sound still haunts me. But the child wasn’t enough. I needed more. I fed on the mother’s corpse. It wasn’t as nice as the baby’s blood. It was losing its taste as the oxygen wasn’t being pumped through it anymore, but it did the job.” Vivienne’s shoulders were shaking violently, small cries coming from within her throat.
The Van Wilden Chronicles Box Set Books 1-3 Page 26
