by DB Nielsen
The first thing Aislinn noticed was that the shelves which lined his walls were filled with antiquities and the enormous worktables were crammed with high-tech equipment, giving the place the look of a hybrid museum and scientific laboratory: plexiglass screens and an array of computers, an astronomical compendium in gilded and silvered brass, an abacus, a Babylonian stele, a microscope and trays of vacutainers, and a papyrus from the Book of the Dead numbered among his possessions. These jockeyed for position amongst rare books, textbooks, scientific journals, and ancient manuscripts.
“Humans often say that alchemy is a pseudo-science because it’s speculative,” Benjamin began, his fingers clamping around the spine of an ancient text that was lying on his desk. “Of course, it’s true that alchemists used to try to transform lead or copper into silver and gold to discover cures for aging and a way of extending life.”
“Like finding the philosopher’s stone,” Cole said, proud of himself for knowing something that had been made popular by Harry Potter, as Cooper stifled a smile.
Benjamin ignored the interruption to continue his theorizing. “And while its sister discipline, astrology, has been accepted as pure science, alchemy has not.”
Wow, he’s really intense! Cooper thought.
Benjamin truly believed that science was merely the magic humans had created to explain their world, and magic was the science that immortals used to explain theirs. Aislinn knew that while Benjamin came across as a hedonistic player, it was entirely a ruse. It benefitted him for others to see him in this way. It allowed him to hide his true nature. Scientist. Pragmatist. Revolutionary.
“So, alchemy is often ignored because humans don’t understand it nor its relationship to the other realms.”
“Well, most humans have no knowledge of the other realms,” stated Cooper, intrigued by the other vampire who was fast becoming a role model.
“True that,” agreed Cole, reaching out to touch a precariously balanced chemistry set.
“Don’t touch that, Cole, or you’ll need titanium implants,” Benjamin warned the clumsy Sanguis in a low, calm voice which was even more sinister than if he’d shouted. Cole’s eyes widened, and he automatically pulled his hand away.
Satisfied, Benjamin continued. “Alchemy exists between the scientific and the supernatural. There are those who believe that alchemy can yield the key to creation due to transmutation.”
“What’s transmutation?” Cooper asked, frowning.
Benjamin’s eyes were brilliant, suddenly glittering. “It’s us.”
“Us?” asked Aislinn, leaning carefully back against the edge of the cluttered worktable without dislodging anything.
“What humans would see as becoming supernatural or immortal,” Benjamin explained, opening the book he was holding, the yellowed pages crackling with age. “Physiological or chemical changes allowing for mortals to become immortal. Sickness to health. Longevity. All of which is possible through living energy. The elements coupled with an individual’s life force. And blood, which is life. For the dark mages, it’s extracted through magic.”
Cooper met Benjamin’s gaze. “But why?”
He shrugged, like the answer was obvious. “Why did you want to become immortal? Or you, Cole? Or any of us? It’s the greatest power there is. See for yourself.”
Benjamin handed the book to Aislinn. She took it from him. But before she even did more than glance at it, it clattered to the floor, falling from suddenly nerveless fingers.
No one believed that Aislinn was clumsy. At first, they all stood perfectly still, shocked by the look on Aislinn’s face—dark eyes staring sightlessly, ivory fangs elongated, too pale in an already white complexion.
Then she gave a half-choked sound.
Cole moved forward, not knowing what to do, ready to pound her back as he had Caleb’s earlier. Aislinn whirled around to look at them, moving so fast it seemed like she’d broken the light barrier and everything had slowed down.
“What?” growled Caleb, leaping to her side in a blur of motion, his hand automatically falling to the hilt of his blade, ready to unsheathe it at a moment’s notice.
Cooper’s obsidian eyes darted toward the full-width windows, scanning the skyline as if anticipating an aerial attack.
Only Benjamin remained calm, moving to pick up the ancient book from the floor where it lay open on a large color print.
“You’ve seen this before.” It was a statement, not a question.
Aislinn turned dark eyes to fix upon him. She nodded.
The other three vampires looked down at the image. There were lines extended like rays of light and a series of concentric circles, dark points and hexagrams, all arranged in a seemingly chaotic disorder.
Cole and Cooper exchanged a worried glance, though they remained quiet, bound by a blood oath that neither of them could break without forfeiting their lives. They’d also seen it before—on the night of Cooper’s rebirthday.
“Yes, I’ve seen this before, but what I’ve seen is a lot more detailed,” she said, her voice flat and cold. Aislinn appealed to Caleb without words, confusion written across her striking features.
“Aislinn?” If she’d scared him, he was scaring her. What could he see in her face that made him look so concerned? Unless he knew what she was about to propose next?
She swept over the faces before her, all so beautiful, so steadfast and loyal. It was time to share her burden and quest. “Boys, I think it’s time I introduced you to Psychic Seth.”
Psychic Seth lived in a not-so-cozy part of London. Down a narrow cul-de-sac that had once been a service lane for deliveries to the Georgian townhouses nearby but was no longer in use, an open drain at the side of the alley leading into the sewers where he’d set up home.
As they approached the narrow laneway, Aislinn warned them, “Please be careful. Be kind to him. He’s not—quite normal. And he might say things that seem odd. But he’s not vicious. Well, not that I know of, anyway.”
“What you mean to say is that he’s crazy as a shithouse rat,” Caleb said dryly. He’d seen the Nubes once in the Nocturne, but that was before his feeding frenzy which had sent the newborn vampire crazy.
Aislinn gave a slightly apologetic shrug. “I guess you could say that.”
It was a more accurate description than he knew.
The empty alley was ghost quiet and dimly lit. But signs of life were evident as human vagrants had been living there. Cardboard mats, moldy blankets, empty tin cans, and beer bottles were scattered around its perimeter. Sadly, they were often fodder for hungry vampires who didn’t care much for the hunt. Vagrants were easy pickings.
Aislinn looked over at the burly Malum whose expression was fierce and intimidating. “Maybe you should stay out here. There’s not a lot of room down there, and it’s claustrophobic. You might be better off guarding the entrance.”
“From what? An army of cockroaches?” Caleb puffed up his chest in a belligerent manner. “Oh no. I’m coming with you. This is one nut job I have got to meet.”
Aislinn scowled up at him. “Fine. Have it your way. But behave yourself.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Don’t freak out the freak.” He sighed in exasperation. “Don’t worry. The nut job’s gonna love me. I’ve got the blood bags.” He jiggled them around as if to prove his point.
They slipped quietly down, one at a time, into the open drain. Aislinn was right. The feeling was oppressive and stifling, reinforced by the gag-inducing smells in the sewer. Yet no one dared to complain. Up ahead, a dim light glowed from a narrow space behind a thick iron grille. It seemed to lead into a strange-looking Victorian antechamber, left over from the same era when the unused railway tunnels were shut down by the authorities.
She gestured for them to halt. Calling out Seth’s name to warn him of her approach, she moved slowly, squeezing behind the iron grille. She didn’t want to scare him, since there was no telling what a jumpy, insane vampire might do.
But there was no answ
er.
“Oh, Seth, look what we have for you?” Caleb called out in a sing-song voice and began to jiggle the blood bags around once more.
“Stop it,” Aislinn hissed, slapping his hand. She realized that the chamber was empty.
All five vampires crowded into the small space.
“So, this is how the rats live?” Benjamin asked, moving inside to half-seat, half-lay himself down in the cramped space as his head kept hitting the ceiling. He found a bowl with loose change and popped a coin into the machine. The mattress starting rattling. “Ahh. A Magic Fingers vibrating mattress. I used to know the guy who invented it. It’s a little Austin Powers, don’t you think?”
“You also, stop it,” Aislinn said, pulling out the plug.
“Quite clever, really.” Benjamin was amazed at Seth’s ingenuity since he’d managed to tap into the power of the fatbergs floating in the sewer. “He’s made a microbial fuel cell with the help of bacteria. What a pity he wasn’t turned properly. Do we know who his sire is?”
“Harry, Dorian’s friend.”
“A bloody waste, if you ask me. A Malum would have done a better job, and perhaps we would have been able to tap into this vampire’s potential,” Benjamin mused, always the pragmatist.
“What are you doing here?” An aggressive snarl came from the entrance to the chamber, and a filthy-looking Nubes entered the room. “This is my place. Get out, get out, get out—”
“Seth, these are my friends,” Aislinn said, thinking that to approach him like a child was the best way to proceed. “Please don’t be rude. Allow me to introduce them to you.”
As she did, he gave a rude snort, followed by a crazy jangling laugh, but he didn’t react in a manner that would require restraining him.
“What were you doing, Seth?” Aislinn eventually asked, trying to work out what on earth he was wearing.
He was dressed in a red T-shirt with a radioactive symbol on it, boxer shorts, and black rubber gumboots. He wasn’t wearing any pants, but he did have a red fez with a black tassel on his matted head, covering the usual dried blood and animal entrails.
“I was out walking Princess Twilight,” Seth said, and they finally noticed the leash he was holding, strapped through the eye socket of a feline skull that was wearing a plastic jeweled tiara. The skull was Seth’s talisman, and he picked it up from where it had bounced along behind him and began to croon to it lovingly.
Four sets of vampire eyes swiveled to hold Aislinn’s gaze questioningly. She gave a sheepish shrug. “Sorry, forgot to mention it. Ignore it. It’s just his thing.”
“Right, yes, well,” Caleb, being military trained, was the first to address Seth. “Are you hungry? We brought some snacks.”
But Seth ignored Caleb, wandering over to Cole and plucking his fedora from his head.
“Hey, give it back,” Cole said, attempting to snatch it from the Nubes’s grip.
“Mine,” said Seth, dropping the fez to the floor and placing the fedora on his head.
A little tussle between the two vampires began over the fedora, with Seth baring his teeth, his fangs jagged like the jaws of a shark, and lunging at Cole, grasping for the hat in his hands.
“Cole,” instructed Aislinn in a stern voice, intervening. “Let Seth have it. He probably has lice.” Horrified, Cole immediately let the fedora go and stepped back. “Better.”
Satisfied, Seth shuffled over to Caleb and took the blood bags out of his hands. Surrendering them to him, Caleb watched as he sculled the entire contents of the first blood bag in less than a second and went for the next. It was like watching a vulture feed, both horrifying and fascinating.
Aislinn, who was used to Seth’s feeding habits, ignored him. Instead, she joined Benjamin who was fixedly staring at the walls.
Across the concrete walls of the chamber, scrawled in dried animal blood, were childish drawings, intricate symbols, runes, and mathematical and scientific calculations. It was impossible to discern the crazy ideas in Seth’s unstable mind. Staring at his confused stream of consciousness for more than a moment gave her a severe headache.
“How can you look at it for so long?” she asked Benjamin as Cooper came to stand by her side, interested in what they were doing.
“I pick a fixed point and ignore the rest,” the broad Malum stated. “I think only Seth can look at this holistically without feeling sick. But it’s fascinating, don’t you find?”
Aislinn agreed.
“There.” Cooper leaned forward to point to a strange symbol. “That’s the one marking the dark mages we fought.”
Several things clicked into place in Cooper’s mind. Aislinn was staring at him coldly, and Benjamin’s expression held both equal measures of interest and skepticism.
Cooper suddenly realized his colossal mistake, the looming threat of breaking his blood oath, and instantly decided to use guile. “At the academy, when we trained in the holo-rooms, we fought dark mages. And witches and shapeshifters and—” he cleared his throat as if realizing it might not be a good idea to confess all, “—vampires.”
Always keep a lie simple.
He suspected that neither of them would be able to verify his lie. At least, he hoped.
“Interesting,” murmured Benjamin thoughtfully, tapping his chin with one slender finger.
“Yes. Very. Interesting.” Aislinn’s eyes were narrowed. They promised some sort of reprisal later.
Benjamin looked at the symbol curiously, though Aislinn did not have to look—didn’t want to look—at what she was all too familiar with since the brutal slaying of her sister, Sorcha. The image was formed from three concentric outer circles enclosing within them three dark points, which she thought represented the Druids themselves, from which three straight lines extended like rays of light.
“See the meeting of the elements in this symbol?” Benjamin asked, demonstrating his great knowledge, indifferently pushing back the hair falling in tousled blue-black tendrils into his eyes. “Light or the fire from the heavens.”
He pointed to the lines extending from the dots. “Earth. Sea. Air.”
He pointed to the three concentric circles. “The Triad of Sunrises.”
He pointed to the three points. “Or the points at which the sun rises on the equinoxes or solstices.”
“So, they aren’t men?” asked Cooper, moving closer to the symbol to get a better look.
The good-looking Malum shrugged. “Possibly. Could be. Many interpret the points as deities.”
Aislinn heard the skepticism in his tone. “What do you think they represent?”
He pierced her with knowing eyes. “Think of it this way. All living things are part of a flowing spirit, a collective life force or living energy. And an energy in flow is the very essence of life.” He paused. “I see it as an awareness of the entirety of existence, of life itself.”
So perhaps what had been powerful and, in essence, good and life-giving had been corrupted by these dark mages, Aislinn thought. It might even explain the reversal of the flow of creative energy into something destructive, with blood and death and the stolen life force of living creatures.
Behind them, Seth started to sing in his high-pitched, discordant manner. “‘Hickory Dickory dock, the mouse ran up the clock, the clock struck three, and they did flee, Hickory Dickory dock.’”
They? Not he? They fled?
Aislinn realized that Psychic Seth was seeing the past, what had happened on the night she had turned Cooper. She didn’t really recall the entire nursery rhyme perfectly word for word but decided to look it up later. She preferred not to arouse too much interest in her business. Though she liked and trusted Benjamin more than most other Malums, he was still wanting to start a revolution and usurp Julius, something she had little time and inclination in wanting to involve herself in.
“I find your psychic friend thought provoking,” murmured Benjamin, with one eyebrow slightly raised. “It is a pity we cannot delve into his mind to access his prophetic knowled
ge or his memories. Though he seems to have some analytical abilities. I wonder—”
Aislinn was alarmed by the spark of interest which lit Benjamin’s moss-green gaze.
But Benjamin was already turning toward Psychic Seth with a gregarious expression on his face. “Seth, my obliging fellow. Tell me, what do you know about stock markets?”
Chapter 10
It was Wednesday night at the Nocturne, their busiest night of the week, and the club was crowded with the typical immortal packs of hunting university students, young bloods, and millennials, out prowling the town. Since it was winter and midweek, not much action was to be found on the streets, so vampires piled into the club where they were sure to find it teeming with blood and sex.
The music from the heavy metal band on stage was loud and pounding and grating, despite vampires having perfectly acute hearing. It was loud enough to have them shouting to be heard over it as they requested their drinks from the bar. A revolving red and green haze from the colored strobe lights tinged the dry-ice smoke on the dance floor a sickly hue, so it seemed that all the tightly packed, gyrating, writhing, and thrashing bodies reaching out their arms in supplication to the heavens were like the tormented souls in the bowels of Demura.
This is freaking awesome! Swiveling around on his barstool to face the bar, Cooper was enthralled by the lurid, macabre nature of the vampire world.
“Not quite what you were expecting from eternal life, was it?” Cole asked as he sat beside his brother, barely looking up from what he was doing. “Bram has a lot to answer for. All those coffins and graveyards and asylums and howling Children of the Night.” Cole sighed melodramatically. “Vlad, I wish I’d come up with it first. I could be as famous as my cousin by now.”
Cooper laughed out loud at Cole’s words. Then, realizing his brother was totally serious, he said soberly, “Erm, yeah. Pity about that. By the way, what are you doing?”
