by Craig Zerf
Head of the United Kingdom House of the Nosferatu, Lord Chelsea Byron, had long since lost the ability to feel remorse, or fear, or love. However, the last thousand years had honed his ambition to the point where it superseded all else. And so, even though he wasn’t scared per se, he was nervous.
Because opposite him sat Janus Augusta, head of the Italian house and also the Capo di tutt'i capi, the supreme leader, of the entire World Vampire Federation.
Augusta had been born around 100BC and even for a vampire he was considered to be ancient. He sat in the leather wingback, his spine bent over almost double.
A network of throbbing purple veins stood out clearly on his hairless skull, as they did all over his body.
His fangs stood out on a permanent basis, at least four inches long and stained yellow with age. Uncut fingernails arched away from his fingers, so long that they literally curled back on themselves, preventing him from doing even the simplest of tasks for himself, a habit that he affected to show that he had servants for everything.
But his eyes belied his frail appearance, Deep red in color and filled with a bottomless well of inhuman insanity. A pure madness brought on by living for far too long. A psychosis that can only come from having lost every friend, lover and companion that he had ever had. Thousands and thousands of years of bereavement and sorrow. A veritable litany of loss.
And with it came a hatred of all that was human.
When he spoke his voice was so sibilant and quiet that, had his audience not had the hyper-sensitive hearing of the undead, they would not have been capable of hearing him.
‘It is a shard of the true sword,’ he said.
‘After Sir Bedivere cast Excalibur into the lake, the Lady of the Lake, a succubus by the name of Nimue, destroyed the weapon, smashing it into pieces and flinging the shards into the deepest ocean.
But she retained one piece. A piece large enough to fashion a ring. This ring she gifted to Sir Lancelot. It was known as ‘The Ring of Dispell’ and it dispelled any enchantments. It is this ring that we seek. It is this artifact that shall give the Nosferatu wearer the power to become a Daywalker.’
‘For many centuries we have searched for the relic,’ said Lord Byron. ‘How is it that we have only now learned that it is the fabled ring of Lancelot? Rumor has it as many different articles ranging from Solomon’s crown to the Holy Grail.’
‘Do you question me?’ Hissed Augusta.
Byron dropped to one knee before he replied. ‘Never, my king. I merely enquire as to how we learned of its existence.’
‘We did not,’ replied the ancient vampire. ‘I did. And that is most likely due to the fact that I alone have been searching for it longer than anyone or anything on this earth.’
‘A level one Familiar recently told us of rumors that pointed to a human, Sir William Townsend,’ responded Byron. ‘A dealer in antiquities. It was alleged that he had come across a relic of great power. However, some of my Aspirants searched his premises and found nothing.’
‘I have already heard about this,’ interjected the Capo di tutt'i capi.
‘Did the morons that work for you not think that any antiques shop of any value is bound to have many items with some sort of power in it?
We all know that age itself can bring power to an object. If we all merely romped about ransacking places with antiquities in, where would we be? I also heard that they left evidence of their deed on camera for all to see. And now those infernal Shadowhunters are poking their filthy noses in our business.’
‘That is true, my King,’ agreed Byron. ‘However, I did punish the Aspirants involved. I put two of them to the true death.’
Augusta sneered. ‘You have grown soft, Lord Byron. See to it that the other Aspirants involved are also beheaded.’
Byron nodded. ‘Of course, sire. It shall be done.’
‘I know,’ affirmed the ancient one. ‘Now, tell me of your other blunders.’
‘What blunders, my liege?’
The Capo hissed. ‘Do not play with me, child,’ he commanded. ‘I know all. You insult me by performing parlor games. Four of your elder brethren have been killed. What happened?’
Byron flinched. He had thought that he had covered his tracks; however, once again, he had underestimated the leader’s power and influence. ‘There is a new Shadowhunter, my king,’ he said. ‘A mere child, only newly come into her powers. I sent four Enforcers to kill her, thinking that it might discourage the Foundation from looking any deeper into our affairs.’
‘And what happened?’
‘She killed them, sire.’
‘How is that possible?’ Asked the ancient vampire.
Byron shook his head. ‘Truly, I have no idea. Our informant assured us that, while she was talented, there was no way that she could best four of our top exterminators. It is a mystery.’
‘Did she receive help?’ Enquired Augusta.
‘Our informant says not. Apparently she did it herself.’
Augusta nodded. ‘Interesting. Find out more about this new Hunter. Report back to me when you know everything about her. Lineage, history…everything.’
Lord Byron got off his knee and bowed deeply. ‘As you command, so shall it be done.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Augusta. ‘That is true. And I advise you never to forget that, Lord Byron. Now leave me, I grow hungry. Send me a Familiar. Someone young. Preferably male. A boy if you have.’
Byron bowed again and left the room.
Chapter 18
