A Shade of Vampire 78: An Origin of Vampires

by Forrest, Bella

  Danika straightened her back, suddenly uncomfortable. Acheron’s eyes threw darts at Beryn. Hell, no one at the table liked where this conversation was headed—including our group. Maylin, on the other hand, was smiling. She and Beryn must’ve talked about this before dinner.

  “Where did you hear that?” Danika asked Beryn.

  “Word travels fast, Your Grace,” Beryn replied. “I see you’re not denying it.”

  “We’re simply trying to understand the similarities and the differences between our species,” Derek said, calm and reserved in his approach.

  Beryn grinned. “It doesn’t have anything to do with whatever made you into a day-walker then, huh? Because we all know you got it from one of our own.”

  Danika rolled her eyes. “I see gossip is still running rampant.” She glanced at Acheron. “See, darling? This is why I’ve been advocating for smaller dinners and fewer guests lately.”

  “I agree,” Acheron replied, raising an eyebrow at Beryn. “One of us, Beryn? One of whom, exactly?”

  “Why, the Aeternae, of course,” Beryn said.

  “I don’t think you’re in a position to question what Derek and his team do with the blood we give them,” Acheron declared. “You were turned. From a heritage point of view, you don’t get a say in this.”

  “No, but I just want these foreigners to be honest,” Beryn replied. “I just want them to tell us that they came here for the day-walking cure. Judging by what they’ve said so far, frankly, it did not take a master linguist to figure it out.”

  “Beryn doesn’t like pussy-footing much.” Maylin chuckled, thoroughly enjoying this.

  Sofia exhaled sharply. “It’s true. We came here because our search for the day-walking protein brought us to Visio.”

  It didn’t surprise Danika or Acheron. Zoltan seemed a tad displeased, at best, but he wasn’t shocked, and neither was Petra. In hindsight, it did make sense that they’d figured it out on their own, as much as we’d tried to convince ourselves otherwise. But I did wonder what had made them draw the conclusion, since they definitely didn’t know about our tracking magic.

  “We didn’t want it to be the main objective of our visit, though,” Sofia added. “We are genuinely fascinated, in awe of your civilization and what you’ve accomplished here. For us, it’s always a pleasure to explore new worlds. As you all know by now, this isn’t our first foray into interstellar exploration.”

  “I appreciate your candor,” Acheron replied. “Rest assured, we are not in any way upset or offended that you did not tell us immediately. It does make sense that you would want to help your people evolve, so they may walk in the sunlight without fear of dying.”

  “See, Beryn? We like to be civil with our guests,” Danika said, sneering at the former Rimian. “If you were trying to start a diplomatic conflict, I suggest you go back to the drawing board and try something smarter. On the other hand, if all you intended was to embarrass our guests, I must say I’m thoroughly unimpressed.”

  “Your Grace, I simply advocate for the truth, no matter how uncomfortable,” Beryn replied, apparently dissatisfied with the end result of his jabs. There was clearly some sort of endgame on his mind. And I felt uneasy not knowing what that was.

  “If you don’t mind me asking, what brought you to the conclusion that we came here because of the day-walking protein? We did not lead the conversation there,” I said. “In fact, we let you draw the conclusions for yourselves, out of respect.”

  Valaine’s hand covered mine over the armrest of my chair. No one else saw it, but I was compelled to look at her. She frowned, silently signaling me not to dig any deeper. However, it was too late. I’d already asked.

  Acheron smiled. “Given you had the technology and the magic to come all the way here, we figured you must’ve had something to help you trace that protein back to our world.”

  “Seems rather simple, doesn’t it?” Danika added.

  Then why was I not convinced? The thought of having been spied on crossed my mind, and the implications troubled me. This wasn’t the time or the place to address them, but I was determined to speak to Esme about it—she looked as concerned as I was, likely making the same connections.

  These people were fascinating. But they were also hiding things from us, things that could mean the difference between our mission’s success or failure—and possibly trouble.

  Esme

  “I think your white-haired scientist here should take blood samples from different Aeternae,” Petra said after a long and not so comfortable pause. She confused me with her mood swings, going from hot to cold, from helpful to hateful, in milliseconds. “With your permission, Lord and Lady Supreme, I will be more than happy to grant Amal full access to the palace’s study rooms so she can analyze all the samples and identify the protein needed for the vampires’ day-walking cure.”

  Acheron nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll gladly give you some of my blood, if you wish.”

  “Your Grace, surely there is no need for that,” Zoltan replied. “I and my colleagues will donate on your behalf.”

  “Nonsense. The Nasani blood is pure and ancient. One of the first dynasties established on Visio,” Acheron said. “I will donate, and that’s the end of it.”

  “You can take mine, as well,” Danika added, though she didn’t sound as excited as her husband. Even so, their willingness to help us wasn’t just surprising. It was downright humbling and heartwarming. For all their secrecy and double meanings nudged beneath their words, the Aeternae were definitely eager to support our quest. It was selfless.

  “I suppose I don’t need to tell you that you people can have my blood,” Kalon muttered.

  “Thank you,” I said, genuinely grateful to have his support in this endeavor.

  “Heck, I’ll give some of mine, too,” Maylin conceded. “I’m curious to see what differences you draw between my blood and that of an original Aeternae.”

  “Indeed, that would be an interesting study,” Zoltan realized, smiling with delight. “We have yet to develop techniques such as yours for the analysis of blood.”

  Amal nodded. “I will gladly assist with whatever you may need,” she said. “If we can help get you closer to a cure for the Black Fever, while we’re here, you have our full support.”

  “It is the least we can do, in return for what you’re giving us,” Derek added.

  Last time we’d spoken to GASP, earlier this morning, they’d warned us to be careful. They’d also expressed interest in getting to know these people better. Rose had suggested that we could even try to forge an alliance with Visio and its principates—the secret here was to not interfere in their form of government.

  The Aeternae did not seem like the kind who would easily renounce their privileges, and, as much as Rose and the others disliked Derek’s counterarguments on the topic, it wasn’t our place to destabilize three planets after millions of years of mostly peaceful coexistence. There were plenty of things we didn’t like about their world and the way they treated the Rimians and the Naloreans, but it was their world. Not ours.

  I could already hear our people in GASP squealing from joy, though, upon hearing that the Aeternae were more than willing to help us by giving their blood for studies and tests. So far, our mission was turning out to be quite successful.

  Even so, I couldn’t shake off the worry that something might go wrong. That someone might do something to spoil the rapport we’d managed to achieve with the Aeternae. Beryn had already tried to put a wedge between us, and the others must have learned from his experience. One of them might try again, harder the second time around.

  “I would appreciate a scientific pursuit of the Black Fever,” Petra said. “For too long we have battled it. For too long we have buried our loved ones because of it. If that Ta’Zan fellow was able to find you a cure against the burning sunlight, then surely, you can help us come up with something to at least prevent another outbreak.”

  “How frequently does the Black Fe
ver return?” Amal asked.

  “The last time was five thousand years ago,” Clayne replied. “I lost my wife then. Demetrius was only five years old at the time.”

  Maybe the absence of a mother might’ve had something to do with the rot that had clearly warped Demetrius’s brain. Most psychopaths had some kind of motherly issue at the root of their festering darkness. I considered this informational tidbit a piece of a broader puzzle.

  “The cycle is approximately every ten thousand years,” Petra said. “We’re not due for another outbreak just yet.”

  “Approximately five thousand years left, then,” Amal concluded.

  To my left, Kalon sat still, following the conversation. A muscle ticked nervously in his jaw, his gaze fixed on his mother. There was something here, something unspoken and filled with anger. Was Petra lying, perhaps? I would warn Amal later tonight, for sure, just so she’d be careful when dealing with Petra.

  “Your aid will be much appreciated,” Danika cut in. “But I think we must make the terms of this collaboration clear from the very beginning.”

  Derek was once again caught off guard. “I’m sorry. What do you mean?”

  “Well, you’ve told us about your GASP federation and how you’ve made friends all over the place, earlier today, if you remember,” Danika replied. She was right. Derek and Sofia had mentioned GASP and our endeavors during blood drinks with Acheron and her after the tournament, after having decided to tell them more about us. “Upgrading worlds, changing governments, defending the defenseless and so on. It’s very noble what you do, but the Lord Supreme and I have already discussed this, and we want you to keep this GASP malarkey all to yourselves.”

  “I still don’t follow,” Derek said, his brow furrowed.

  Acheron put on a flat smile, leaning over the table. “We’ll give you the blood. You’ll help us with a cure for the Black Fever. That is where our partnership ends. You will not try to change our world. You will not bring others from your planets to ours. We are not interested in diplomatic ties and intergalactic brotherhoods. We want Visio and its empire to be left alone.”

  Derek and Sofia looked at each other for a few seconds, then searched our faces for a reaction. I gave them a soft nod, as did my brother.

  “GASP doesn’t wish to interfere in any way, but we’ve proven ourselves more than effective against threats that nearly wiped out entire galaxies,” Derek said.

  “That’s all good and everything, but it’s still a no from us,” Acheron insisted, his tone sharp. “We’ve been here for too long on our own to have anyone come in and try to police us in any way. We wish to preserve our culture and our laws. It’s why we put the haze around our planets.”

  “We wouldn’t even dream of destabilizing your empire, we just—” Sofia tried to explain, but Danika cut her off.

  “You can’t have it both ways here, Sofia. We know that you and your people are not exactly thrilled with the arrangements that we’ve made with the Rimians and the Naloreans, after we conquered them. We know that you would try to change that, the first chance you get, because you’re all nice and self-righteous. We like you, sure, but we don’t want you butting in. No one does.”

  This was awkward, but I could see where they were coming from. Things had been much worse on Neraka before our intervention—who was to say that one or more of GASP’s senior officers couldn’t convince the others that we should step in and tell the Aeternae to change their laws and free the Rimians and the Naloreans? Danika was right. We had made it our mission to protect other supernatural species. To defend those who could not defend themselves.

  But we also needed the protein in their blood, so we could all walk in the sun again. We couldn’t have both, and our people had had enough wars and conflicts and disasters to last them a lifetime. For once, we were better off focusing on the protein, instead of trying to forcibly reshape an entire world that seemed to function quite well on its own, as flawed as it was in its laws and traditions.

  “I understand,” Derek said. “You have my promise. No other GASP members will ever set foot on Visio, or Nalore, or Rimia, without your direct permission. In return, we will continue with our exchange. Your blood and our support in finding a cure for your Black Fever, hopefully before it comes back.”

  “And you have my word, Derek Novak,” Acheron replied. “No one will harm you or stand in your way while you pursue your mission to give day-walking to all the vampires. You are welcome here, and it is still a pleasure to host you and your team.”

  People nodded and murmured their agreement around the table, while Kalon leaned closer so only I could hear him. “See? Isn’t everything better when we all get along?”

  I shot him a cold stare. “You should try that with Demetrius before you end up dead tonight.”

  He grinned, genuinely amused. “You’re worried about me?”

  “It would be a shame for the high priestess to lose a son like this.”

  “Right. You’d feel sorry for my mother,” Kalon replied dryly.

  “I’d feel sorry for you, too,” I said. “There’s nothing more tragic than dying.”

  “There is. An eternity without love or honor,” Kalon said immediately. “Compared to that, dying is a relief.”

  He sounded as though he spoke from his own experience. Maybe his arrogance and sense of superiority were merely a thin surface beneath which he’d been hiding for too long. Maybe he welcomed the thrill of dying tonight. I didn’t like the thought.

  The more I was around him, the more questions I had. The more I wanted to understand him, to breach the outer layer and reach the core of Kalon Visentis. Hopefully, I’d get my chance before tonight.

  Esme

  Close to midnight, Kalon invited us to witness the duel. His mother refused. “I will not watch my son be killed,” she said.

  “What if I win?” he asked.

  “I refuse to even consider the risk of you losing. I can’t,” Petra insisted. “You come see me when it’s done, so I know you’re alive. Otherwise, I shall brace myself for the worst.”

  She walked out of the palace square, where a carriage awaited to take her home. Danika and Acheron had retreated to their chambers, and the rest of the dinner guests had also scattered. Derek and Sofia, Tristan, Amal, Nethissis, Corbin, Valaine, and I were the only ones left willing to accompany Kalon to the duel. Even Demetrius’s father had excused himself, likely mentally preparing himself for the terrible news that might follow.

  He knew Kalon well enough to understand that his son’s odds had been drastically reduced the moment the duel had been agreed upon. I couldn’t even imagine how gut-wrenching it all had to be, especially since Lord Mefithi had been nothing but kind and apologetic.

  A group of ten gold guards escorted us all to the Black Square, which was about half a mile away from the palace. The area had been cleared, as duels normally demanded a certain amount of privacy. The square itself was beautiful, with cobblestone and manicured hedges and neatly trimmed flowering trees. Streetlamps cast their warm light over the narrow street that framed Black Square, and we could only hear a few distant voices nearby.

  Most of the buildings in the area were administrative edifices, already closed off and shuttered, but I knew the people were curious, trying to get as close as possible to at least catch a few glimpses of the duel.

  Corbin offered himself as the referee. “Demetrius would not dare refuse,” he said.

  “Thank you,” Kalon replied as we entered the enclosed green space, where Demetrius was already waiting, joined by two oversized Aeternae friends.

  “Took your sweet time.” Demetrius chuckled, though his anxiety was beyond obvious. Beads of sweat trickled down his temples, seeping into the ruffled collar of his shirt.

  “Thought I’d give you the chance to back out,” Kalon replied. “Clearly, your common sense died along with Krassus today.”

  We stayed back, while Kalon and Corbin walked toward the center of the green space, where the d
uel would take place. Demetrius moved to greet them, while his friends stayed back. He pointed a thumb at them over his shoulder. “Hope you don’t mind. I needed some witnesses, in case you decided to try something funny.”

  “What, like killing you after you yield?” Kalon smirked. “Unlike you, I fight honorably.”

  “I’ll be the referee,” Corbin interjected, his tone clipped. He was big and imposing enough to make Demetrius, who offered no objection, smile faintly.

  “Fine by me.”

  Kalon sighed. “Last chance to back out, Demetrius. Are you sure you want to go ahead with this?”

  “I’d love to,” Demetrius said. “And if I back out now, you’ll tell everyone I’m a coward. I won’t let you have the last laugh. Besides, I’m younger than you. I can take you down.”

  “Taking me down is one thing; killing me is something else entirely,” Kalon said.

  Corbin cleared his throat. “All right. Take your positions. You know the drill. No weapons are allowed. No foreign objects. No cheating. Fight to the death, and may fate have mercy on you both.”

  I held my breath, watching as Kalon and Demetrius moved closer, with about ten feet of space between them. They’d both settled for pants and white shirts, since they wouldn’t need much else in this duel. Demetrius was slightly taller, but Kalon wasn’t even remotely bothered. His Blood Arena prowess was part of the reason why Demetrius was quite worried. He’d allowed his ego to call the shots, and it was too late to turn back now.

  His friends watched from behind, though they didn’t seem as concerned. Maybe they had faith in him. I had a feeling they would soon be disappointed.

  “On my mark,” Corbin announced.

  “What odds do you give Kalon?” Tristan asked Valaine.

  She shot him a cold grin. “Lord Mefithi has a son to bury tomorrow.”

  I felt sorry for Lord Mefithi. For Demetrius… not so much. Not after he’d killed Krassus. There were two types of creatures I had absolutely no mercy for—traitors and murderers. They were beyond forgiveness, for their motives were always selfish and simply awful. I understood the casualties of war. I even accepted tournament and duel deaths. But gratuitous violence such as what he’d inflicted upon Krassus today, I could not forgive.