It was the night of the Virginia Tech game against Akron and all of Blacksburg was abuzz. The football season had not been going well for Tech, but that was nothing new. Still, there was hope and expectation that this game would be different; This game would be a victory.
Deborah, who had shown almost no interest in college life outside of using the town’s nightlife as a hunting ground, had gotten tickets to the game. Michael found this surprising.
“You’ve never shown any interest in sports before.” He commented.
“This time is different. The Prince has come. Every year, he watches a nighttime home game and then holds court. You are to be introduced to him tonight.”
“So this really isn’t about the game.”
“Enjoy the game. The Prince will. And then he will be very interested to meet you. As will the other kindred of the city.”
“So how many of us are there? You, me, Solomon, Andreas who I’ve never met and his childe.”
“In the Roanoke domain there are 5 more than what you’ve listed, including another newly turned like yourself and Andreas’ pet. There are also three elders of great age, including the Prince himself.”
“So ten of us total. And one of these is the enemy I am to help kill?”
Deborah gave no answer.
“You’re going to tell me again what Solomon did. That a fledgling childe like myself cannot keep your secrets.”
“You can’t. And tonight you’ll learn why.”
Michael twisted his mouth in mild frustration. He didn’t like being treated like a baby by Deborah. He may not be a full fledged vampire yet, but he was no simpleton either. But he also knew there was little to be gained by pressing the matter, so he changed the subject.
“I’m hungry.”
“I believe we have a feast before us. Just be discrete. There are a lot of people here.”
Michael gave her a half-mocking salute and headed off into the crowd.
Seduction would not serve in this environment. So Michael would have to find a more direct method. Since the game had begun, most of the crowd was now gathered in the stands, leaving only a few dozen people milling about below near the rest rooms and concessions.
He scanned about and spotted a solitary girl standing next to a large support column, smoking a cigarette, apparently waiting for some friends. With a smile, he walked over to her.
“Hi.” He said. He started digging in his pockets, as if to fetch a cigarette himself. “Got a light?”
“Sure.” She said, looking down to her purse to begin rummaging through it. With that, he struck.
He drank deeply but cautiously, making certain not to kill his prey. As she passed out, Michael came back up. The wound closed and he gently guided her down to the floor. The sound of a group approaching reached his ears. Time to be elsewhere.
With lightning speed, he made his way to a nearby utility closet and darted inside to hide. The group of students spotted the passed out girl and dashed over to help. He could hear their voices through the door and as he listened, he heard something he couldn’t believe: a voice he recognized. A very familiar voice.
He cracked open the door to look out and his suspicions and fears were confirmed. It was Rebecca.
But not as he remembered her. It had been only about two months since he’d last seen her at that homecoming dance and he hardly recognized her. Her red hair had been dyed over with black highlights. Her clothing style had radically changed. Gone were the simple t-shirts and jeans he remembered she always wore. Instead, she was in a black leather jacket with a tank top beneath and a pair of tight black jeans. As she doffed the jacket to give the unconscious girl some warmth, he could see a tattoo of a butterfly on her upper arm. In style, she’d gone very Goth.
“What has happened to you, Becca?” Michael wondered in his thoughts. His eyes surveyed over the rest of those around her. Most of them appeared to be Virginia Tech students he didn’t recognize, but two more familiar faces were within the crowd: Shawn and his brother.
Michael sniffed the air, and the cacophony of smells entered his mind, but three were familiar, as if he knew them. Odd, he thought. He’d not encountered these three as a vampire before, and yet he knew their scent nonetheless. Michael smiled to himself as a dark thought entered his mind.
“Perhaps I’ll cash in my part of our deal early, Deborah.” He said to himself.
----
As the game continued, Michael hovered just out of sight near the trio of his former classmates. He wasn’t sure what he’d do exactly to Rebecca if he caught her alone, but Shawn and Todd were in for a world of hurt.
He was admittedly curious as to why they were here to begin with. Todd was not college material at all and had never shown any brand loyalty to a football team outside of West Virginia University or the Steelers. Rebecca had only been talking about WVU or Marshall, West Virginia’s two major universities, for her college and as for Shawn, Michael simply didn’t know. And if they had come to find out more about his disappearance, why take the time and effort to come to a game?
Speculation gave him no answers, not even decent guesses, but his thoughts were cut short when Todd broke off from the group and headed below. Something about his demeanor told Michael it was a rest room dash, so Michael followed at a distance.
Sure enough, Todd went for the rest rooms. Michael’s mind raced with strategies. There were simply too many people about to physically assault him here. Deborah would be furious at such a blatant use of his power, and with the Prince supposedly present as well, that was too great a risk. He would have to lure him away.
Michael came up with a plan. He waited outside the rest room door until he heard Todd finish and begin to exit. At that, Michael began to enter, running right into him.
“Excuse me.” He said hurriedly and continued inside. Was the sight of him and the voice enough to grab Todd’s curiosity? Michael hoped so.
Michael went through the motions of using the urinal and then washing his hands. He exited and headed towards the rear exit of the stadium. He was immediately aware of someone following behind him. Curiosity would kill more than just the cat tonight.
He exited the stadium grounds, surrounded by a small handful of others who had, for whatever reason, decided to leave the game early. Michael cut a left turn and headed across the backside of the stadium towards a copse of woods that separated the stadium complex from the Green Street neighborhood of Blacksburg proper. The woods were thin but there were few enough around that he could make his move in some seclusion.
About mid-way through the woods, he stopped. “You know, Todd,” he called back. “It’s not very polite to stalk someone.”
“It is you. They said you were dead. Drowned in the river.”
Michael turned. “Only what they were meant to think.”
“Why?” said Todd. It was the last thing Michael expected to emerge from his mouth.
“Why would you care?” said Michael in reply, walking slowly back towards Todd. “Wasn’t I just another nerd for you to beat up?”
“Do you know what your disappearance did to her?”
“Again, why would you care?”
“She’s my brother’s girlfriend. And no one fucks with my brother.”
“Family loyalty. How odd. You two put on such a show of hating each other in public, and now I see sympathy for him and his plight in your eyes. How pathetic.”
“You don’t give a rat’s ass about anybody but yourself, do you, Allens?” said Todd, building himself up and trying to be intimidating. “If I'd known half of what I’ve just learned about you in the last minute or two, I’d have done more than just bully you. If I’d known what you really are, you’d be dead.”
“What stops you now? After all, most everyone thinks I really am.”
Todd smiled evilly, showing that the thought had not occurred to him until now. “Good point.” He said, cracking his knuckles.
“Take your best shot.” Said Michael in a cocky tone. Todd responded with a right hook that landed solid on Michael’s jaw.
Once, that blow would have sent him flying and probably put him out with a single shot. But Michael’s head merely snapped to one side. He turned back to Todd, barely even a mark on his pale skin.
“Best you can do?”
Another right, then a left, and then a body blow. Todd hammered Michael with everything he had, frustrated and enraged by Michael’s seemingly inability to feel any of it.
A powerful uppercut finally had enough force to knock Michael off his feet and onto his back. He lay there and laughed.
“My God,” he said, getting back up. “what a pummeling that would have been back in the day. I’d be sore for weeks, if not hospitalized.”
“How the fuck can you stand up and laugh?” said Todd.
“You really want to know?” said Michael with a smile. And then he was gone.
No, he was behind Todd. Todd turned to face him, but only got halfway before a sledgehammer like blow landed on his jaw. There was the crunch of bone and Todd went flying.
“Funny thing about everyone thinking you’re dead.” Said Michael, all mirth now gone from his voice. “No one will look for you as a murder suspect.” His voice was cold and cruel.
Todd staggered to his feet, blood pouring from his mouth. There was abject terror in his eyes. “Afraid, Todd?” taunted Michael. “Now you know how it feels.”
Todd began to run, but Michael easily moved to intercept, slamming a hard blow into Todd’s chest. There was the sound of cracking ribs and Todd went sprawling again.
Michael rolled him over onto his back. He landed a hard punch to his other side, again snapping bone with each strike. “That was for the bullying.” He stomped down on his shin, again the crunch of bone. “That was for the humiliation. And for your threat a few minutes ago?” He stomped down just below Todd’s ribcage. There was no crunch this time, but Michael knew full well what that blow had done.
“By now, you are likely hemorrhaging blood from about a half dozen internal organs.” Michael knelt down next to him. “With your rib cage shattered, your lungs will soon collapse. The question is, will you die from suffocation or from bleeding? Something to think about as you lay there. I’d tell you to think twice next time about bullying nerds, but then, for you, there won’t be a next time.”
With that, Michael walked away and left Todd to his fate.
----
Michael jumped the fence when the guards weren’t looking and then sought out to find Deborah. The game was now almost over and people were beginning to leave in large numbers. Even amidst the massive football-game crowd, she was not hard to find.
“You took long enough.” Said Deborah as he fell into line at her side.
“Oh, I decided to watch the game from a different set of seats.”
“Did you rob some poor girl of her tickets?”
“Hardly.” Said Michael with faux defensiveness. “I just thought your seats sucked.”
“Even Kindred have their limitations.”
“Unless you’re the Prince.” Supposed Michael. “So when do we meet him?”
“After the team has moved to the locker room, the Prince will use the same passageways to make his way to one of the classrooms beneath the stadium. We will meet him there.”
“So what are we waiting for?”
“A thinner crowd. Be patient, my childe. I can assure you that meeting Mathias is not something you want to look forward to.”
They mingled about the lower area of the stadium for another hour or so as the post-game crowd finally thinned out enough for them to go below without drawing too much attention. They headed down a set of stairs and exited out into a white hallway.
“Well, what have we here?” said a tall thin man as he came down the hall towards them. A retinue of people, most dressed like hippies and Bohemians, followed after. “Am I the first to meet our newest member?”
He stepped forward, arms stretched forward, and he took Michael’s face in his hands. “A fine specimen.” He focused on Michael’s eyes, looking deep within. “Although a mite impulsive. Seems he’s already had something of an adventure tonight.”
At that, one of the kindred’s followers broke from the crowd and headed rapidly up the stairs behind Deborah and Michael. The Kindred gave it no heed, releasing Michael and stepping back. “I am being rude. I am Ernest Malkov Peabody the Fourth, Esquire. Most around here call me Ernie.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Said Michael nervously. Something about the kindred’s gaze was disconcerting.
“What have you done now?” demanded Deborah of Michael, grabbing him by the arm and turning him towards her.
“What makes you think I’ve done anything?” said Michael defensively. It was a weak lie and he knew it.
“Ah, a doubter.” Interjected Ernie. “Seems he has no faith in our royal powers. Tell me, Michael, at what age did you stop that retched habit of picking your nose?”
Michael’s anger flashed and he turned quickly to face Ernie.
“Still touchy about it, I see. Is that why Todd bullied you so mercilessly? No, I suppose not. He came later, but there were others. Funny how an ancient memory of years past can still inflame you. Tell me, Deborah,” Ernie turned to her, “with his temper, are you sure he’s not a Gangrel?”
“Quite sure.” Said a voice from behind them.
“Ah, Solomon, so good you could join us tonight as well. Have you met our young Michael?”
“I have. I’m not impressed. He has much to learn.” Solomon joined the growing crowd.
“I’ve been a vampire less than 3 months and you expect me to know everything?” retorted Michael, annoyed at their critique and disdain.
“Ignorance is not a shield the Prince will long accept, young one,” said Ernie, “particularly if you keep leaving messes for him to clean up. You keep this one on too long a leash, Deborah. The Prince will not be pleased. And speaking of that, he awaits us within.”
“Is he settled?”
“Feasting on a cheerleader last I saw. I’m sure he’s done by now. Come.” Barked Ernie. “It’s time for another lesson, young one. One you’ll not soon forget.”
Ernie marched them down the hallway towards a classroom. Michael noted that the Bohemian retinue did not follow, but Solomon did. For the first time since his change, Michael felt the chill of fear. They seemed to know all about his attack on Todd and were none too pleased about it.
They stepped inside the classroom to witness a scene of terror. At the front of the room, where the professor would normally stand lecturing, was a grotesque creature, human in shape, but that is where the similarities ended. The beast’s skin was pale and partially translucent, allowing Michael an almost unhindered view of the blood vessels beneath. It was bald and dressed in a monk’s robe. Before it, stood one of Virginia Tech’s cheerleaders. She stood motionless, as if in a trance, before the monstrous creature.
“Is that…the Prince?” asked Michael as he followed Deborah along the wall to the top of the room.
“Yes. That is Prince Mathias. He is of the Nosferatu Clan, which is why his appearance is so grotesque.”
“What is he doing?”
“Erasing memories. He is a master at reading and manipulating the minds of his victims. A helpful gift to have when your very appearance would frighten away your prey.”
“He can read minds?” said Michael with a shudder. “And so can Ernie?”
“Yes. And so can others. And now you know why Solomon and I have been so secretive with you about our plans. With only a touch, Ernie could pluck an unpleasant memory from your childhood to tease you.” Deborah gave Michael a sharp look. “And he is fully aware of what you were doing during the game.”
“It was a calculated gamble.” Said Michael. “A mortal who knew me, who saw me. One that could reveal that I’m alive to others.”
“So you killed him?”
“Yes.”
“You better have.”
Prince Mathias turned away from the cheerleader as two thralls came forward to escort her away. He dabbed his mouth with a handkerchief. “She will remember nothing.” He said in a quiet voice. “I see Lord Ernie, and our ever vigilant warrior Solomon in our midst. Also, lovely Deborah and is this your new pet?”
“I am Michael Allens…your highness.”
“How quaint. Come down, boy. Let me see you more clearly.” Mathias gestured for Michael to come forward. Michael came down to the front, walking on legs that seemed to move on their own.
“He is weak, Deborah.” Criticized Mathias. Despite the critique, there was something of affection in Mathias' voice.
“As are we all when mere babes.” She replied.
“You were made to help our dear Deborah deal with an enemy. I wonder who?” said the Prince as he looked Michael over. “No one too powerful I would imagine.”
“I don’t know who it is.”
“There is little need for you to repeat what I already know, childe.” Chided the Prince gently. “It has been a long time since we have had one so young in our midst. And yet we have three. Two more will come soon with their sires. But for now, let us learn something of one another. Walk with me, Michael.” The Prince strove toward the door and Michael followed.
They came out into the hall and headed from there to outside. “Deborah is a lovely thing, is she not?” His tone had a grandfatherly aspect to it, friendly and inviting, despite his vile appearance.
“If you can read my mind, then you already know what I think of her.”
“You learn fast. That is something she has already commended about you.” Mathias smiled, although it seemed a sickly thing. “You are a lovely thing as well. I can see why she chose you.” His tone shifted and darkened. “It would be a shame if your impulsive adventurism came back to harm either of you.” He stopped and turned to face Michael. “Has she told you what I am? What I do?”
“You are the Prince. You enforce the laws.”
“Indeed, I do. And do you know what those laws are?”
"Hide our existence from the mortal world. Don't make any other vampires without your permission. And something to do with not drinking another kindred to death."
"Your knowledge is incomplete, but adequate. You will learn in time. For now, you are a fledgling, a babe in the woods. You are your sire's charge. Her sins are yours to bear and yours are hers."
"So I screw up and she gets punished."
"You both do, yes." Coming forth behind Mathias, as if made of the very substance of shadow itself, was a dark-skinned man, armed with a scimitar, and dressed as a soldier. Michael nearly jumped out of his skin.
The Prince continued. “And this is my primary tool of enforcement. This is Youssef Zahid Anwar, my bodyguard and personal enforcer. To others, he is known as The Djinn, after the demons of Arabic legend. Let me assure you of something, young Michael. Whatever skills you think you have, the Djinn has a thousand years of practice on you. So if you decide to break the laws of my domain, you will answer to him or to me. Either way, I think you know who the loser of such a confrontation will be.”
“I understand you perfectly.” Said Michael timidly.
“Good. “ Quick as lightning, his voice returned to its old friendly grandfatherly tone. “Then let us rejoin the others. You are one of our guests of honor tonight and the others are so eager to meet you.”
----
“So, did The Djinn make you piss yourself?” asked Solomon after Michael returned.
“He would have if I had any piss in me.” Replied Michael honestly.
“Elders are scary enough. And that one is a Moorish warrior from the 12th century to boot.”
“You’re telling me he’s 800 years old?”
“Mathias is even older, if the stories he tells about himself are to be believed.”
“And those are?”
“Deborah mentioned you were a bit on the religious side before becoming one of us. How well do you know your Bible?”
“Better than some. Not as well as others.”
“You remember the name of the 13th apostle? From the book of Acts?”
“Math…no way.”
“So he claims. But don’t let that fool you. If he was a disciple, either he has fallen far or Jesus was nothing like what anyone believes him to be.”
“You don’t believe his story.”
“I know that he has told it and I know that he very well could be that old. And then there’s his eyes.”
“His eyes?”
“You didn’t notice? Look at them more closely.”
Michael watched as Mathias took one of the other new kindred away, no doubt to give him the Djinn-treatment as well. He looked closely as the Prince glanced back upon the room before leaving.
“Something isn’t right about them.” Michael admitted.
“I forget how young and pathetic you are.” Snarled Solomon. “His pupils are crosses, not circles. In his eyes, he bears the mark of the Messiah he claims to follow.”
“Claims? Not claimed?”
“Deborah has not told you much about the covenants. Yes, claims. Prince Mathias claims to still be a devoted follower, but what he follows looks nothing like the church that I see in the mortal world nor remember from my own days in that world.”
“So, seeing as I’m so young and pathetic, why don’t you teach me a thing or two.” Said Michael boldly. “I take it cross-shaped pupils are not normal.”
“Not hardly. Although, when one of our kind gets that old, it’s hard to say what passes for normal.”
“And the Djinn’s little shadow trick?”
“Again, something you won’t see many of our kind doing. As we age, we grow in strength. But there is a price and a trade-off for that strength. Eventually, we can no longer sustain our life by feeding on the blood of the living. Only the blood of the living dead will do.”
“Other Kindred?”
“Yes. Most find that untenable, so they go to sleep for decades, deliberately weakening themselves in order to go back to feeding on mortals. But powers are lost, knowledge becomes muddled, the memories fade. Since Mathias still feeds as we do, it’s assumed that he has gone to sleep several times in his long unlife. Perhaps even he doesn’t remember the truth of his origins.”
“Deborah said there were three elders in the city. The Prince, his bodyguard, and who is the third? You?”
“No, I was born a century ago, but that is still fairly young among our kind. The third would be the Malkovian.”
“Ernie?” guessed Michael, given the name he was told. “What is his story?”
“You could ask him, but I doubt any of us have heard the same one twice. He’s another good example of how normal ceases to mean much in those of great age. Ernie is quite mad, utterly mercurial in personality. Every time he introduces himself, his name is different, although always some variation on Ernie or Ernest. His tone and demeanor change from moment to moment. It’s like there are a hundred people bottled up in that mind of his and you never know which one you’re going to get. One moment, he’s a child, the next a king, and then a sage or perhaps a warrior, and then a court jester. All rolled into one.”
“He could read my mind.”
“He can scramble it just as easily. But, unlike the Prince, there is little malice in Ernie. In some ways, that makes him more dangerous. He’s as capricious as a small child, and will act out as such with all the powers of a thousand year old vampire at his disposal. Even the Prince fears him.”
“I can see why. But why not kill him, or is it not that easy?”
“Ernie has broken no laws. In fact, despite his madness, he keeps the Masquerade more diligently than any of us. He’s taken it as his personal duty to keep us secret from the mortals of this area.”
“That’s why he sent his thrall after he learned about Todd.” Michael thought to himself. “He’s a useful tool then.” He said aloud.
“And he’ll remain alive until he ceases to be such. But I wouldn’t want to be anywhere nearby when the Djinn or Mathias decides to take Ernie down. No one really knows what he can do.”
Michael decided to mingle a bit. As he walked away from Solomon, he noticed Ernie staring at him from a distance. He found the experience disconcerting, now knowing what Solomon had told him.
The kindred named Andreas, who Michael had heard of but never met, was speaking to Deborah. He wandered over to introduce himself.
“Ah, so you are our lovely Deborah’s prize. I am Andreas Fortunato of Clan Ventrue.” His Spanish accent was thick and he had the all the hallmarks of someone from the Iberian peninsula of Europe: dark hair, dark eyes, dark features.
“Was it your prize that just wandered off with our beloved Prince?” said Michael sardonically.
“Indeed. Norman will no doubt be quite humbled by the experience, despite his background. He is veteran and has seen many combats. But never anything quite so scary as The Djinn.”
“Few of us have.”
“We should introduce him to the Mad Bishop sometime.” Suggested Andreas with a laugh.
“Andreas, even I’d rather not see him again. Ernie is scary enough.”
“Mad Bishop?”
“Ernie’s sire or childe. No one is sure which, but Ernie is a playful crazy. The Bishop is a sociopath of the first order. Lives in Lynchburg.”
“Sometimes, with Malkovians, you simply get out of their way.” admitted Andreas. “Let us be thankful that it is a bloodline that is somewhat rare.” With that comment, Deborah took her leave, leaving Michael and Andreas alone.
“Bloodline?” inquired Michael.
“Ah, I see Deborah has not filled in all the blanks quite yet.”
“Solomon keeps reminding me of how pathetic I am. It grows tiresome.”
“That’s just Solomon. You should be pleased he’s so nasty with you. He only does that with those that he likes.”
“And those he doesn’t?”
“They tend not to live very long.”
“Comforting. But about the bloodlines? What are those?”
“The kindred are divided into 5 families that we call Clans.”
“Yes, Deborah has told me that much.”
“Well, from each Clan can also come bloodlines, variations on the norm, that are passed down from sire to childe. Odds are good you and your sire may inherit the traits of her sire, who is said to be of the Toreador bloodline of Clan Daeva. Malkovians are a bloodline of my clan, the Ventrue, and I think you can already guess what their distinguishing trait is.”
“Insanity?”
“Indeed. They are all quite mad.”
Mathias returned at that moment, bringing with him a somewhat shaken Kindred. Although a young vampire like Michael, the man he had once been was old, perhaps mid-70s. He came over to stand beside Andreas.
“Norman Allison, this is Michael Allens.” Said Andreas. “He is as new to our world as you.”
“You’re the childe of that one over there?” Norman asked, pointing to Deborah.
“Yes, she’s mine.”
“You’re not any older than she is. Just kids.”
“That kid is almost 70 years old.” Said Michael defensively. “Andreas said you were a veteran. Navy perhaps? Deborah said she’s the daughter of a hooker who worked the yards in San Fran. Maybe you knew her.”
Norman grew angry at the insinuation. “I used to wipe the floor with punks like you. I’m sure I still can.”
“That’s quite enough, both of you.” Said Andreas sternly. “The last thing we need is the Djinn down here breaking up fights. Odds are good you’ll both lose your heads for that. His scimitar is very sharp. As for you, Norman, Michael does have a good point. You cannot judge our kind by the standards of the mortal world. One such as you, who is aged by mortal standards, is nothing more than a babe here. And Deborah, who looks young enough to be going to a high school dance, is far older and more powerful than she appears. And if you think that’s not lesson enough, just wait.”
As if on cue, the last of the city’s kindred then entered. A pair, one a young woman who looked to be in her mid to late 20s, the other a small girl, perhaps 12 or 13. The child bowed to the prince.
“Ah, Sophia, is this your latest surrogate?” said Mathias.
“Latest?” said the woman nervously. Mathias ignored her, but continued talking to the young child.
“The last lost her head to the Djinn some years ago.” Whispered Andreas. “Sophia’s been seeking a new childe ever since. When Deborah made her request, Sofia jumped on board immediately. Then, to be fair, I was given privilege as well.”
“Sophia’s the kid?” asked Norman. Mathias took the young woman off to have his token conversation and scare with her.
“Indeed. Embraced sometime in mid 18th century.” Answered Andreas. “Normally, we don’t embrace mortals quite that young, but she was an orphan dying of plague. Her sire had pity on her and gave her unlife. And despite certain obvious disadvantages, she’s managed to survive for over two centuries. She uses her childer as her primary contact with the mortal world. To them, she appears the dutiful daughter to a lovely young mother, but the reality to us is that the child is the master. Hence why it is difficult to judge our kind by the mortal standards of age.”
“So,” interjected Michael. “although Sophia was embraced as a child and Norman as an old man, we would be essentially equals.” Michael paused. “presuming that Sophia was newly turned that is.”
“I think I follow your question.” Said Andreas. “Yes, a 12 year old, a 21 year old, and 80 year old all turned at around the same time would display the same amount of power and strength as vampires. Their former age might give them certain advantages or drawbacks in areas of skill, emotional maturity, experience, but in terms of our supernatural power, they would be equal.”
“And Sophia, although only being in the body of a 12 year old, is quite formidable.”
“Very much so.”
Mathias returned with the young woman, who like Norman and Michael before her seemed a bit shaken by the experience. Not more than a minute later, the Djinn himself entered and took up a place by the Prince.
“It is great delight.” Began Mathias in his grandfatherly voice. “to see all of you here tonight. No doubt, as your instruction in your new life progresses, we will meet again and I will have the great joy of welcoming you fully into our society. But regardless of whether you are newly turned or an old veteran, I must emphasize the importance of our laws.
“You cannot reveal your presence to the mortal world. Our society depends on absolute secrecy. Do not feed openly. Do not use your gifts openly. And do not kill lightly, for each of these things draws attention we do not want.
“Neither can you freely turn others into our kind. This too threatens us. Only by my leave can you do this.
“And the last of our laws is one that hardly deserves mentioning. You cannot drink a fellow kindred to the point of death. To do so is the vilest crime among us.” Michael grew curious. When Deborah had explained the three laws to him, she had glossed over this one, as if it was of least import.
“With that, I bid you all good evening. Come, Djinn, let us return to our domain.” The Prince, his thralls, and the Djinn made their way to the exit.
Deborah rejoined Michael.
“That’s all?” asked Michael.
“The introductions were the key item on the agenda tonight.” Said Deborah. “That the Prince has now retired indicates that he is unwilling to hear any petitions tonight. But that does not mean that the rest of us will not be trading favors tonight. Take advantage. Mingle, meet, greet, see what you can learn.”
“I suppose I shall.” Said Michael. He returned to Andreas and gave him a polite nod. “If you’ll excuse me.”
Michael made his way over to the one pair of kindred he had not yet spoken to, Sophia and her childe, Corrine. His interest was not on education however. Although he knew Sophia likely had much to teach him, it was the attractive “mother” Corrine that he wanted to meet.
“Evening, Lady Sophia, I am Michael Allens.” Still, a certain degree of courtesy was probably warranted.
“You are Deborah’s?”
“Yes.”
“And the diligent student, I see.” Said Sophia. She turned to her “mother.” “Do you feel it, Corrine? The allure, the desire? He does it almost on reflex. Most Daeva do. You must be cautious around them, or you will find yourself trapped in their web of seduction.”
“Excuse me?” imposed Michael.
“Your intent here is transparent, childe. Even lacking Mathias’ gift of mind-reading, it’s obvious what you want.” Again, she turned to Corrine. “Do you desire it also?”
Corrine nodded.
“Is that your true will or the one he is imposing on you with his powers? Learn the difference. Go, if you wish. There is little harm in this, but learn the lesson I have taught and learn to resist so that your will is dominant.”
“I’m Corrine.” She said as they walked away.
“Michael.” He repeated his introduction. “So what was all that about?”
“I’m sure my sire would say something to the effect of ‘Overcome the beast you are and you will be something greater than both vampire and mortal.’ She’s full of pithy little proverbs like that.”
“So she’s a tiny little philosopher. I guess all us childer get taught in different ways and learn different things.”
“And I suppose your lessons primarily involve learning to make total strangers trust and desire you.”
“Comes in handy for hunting.” Admitted Michael.
“So what am I, Michael Allens?” asked Corrine directly. “Just another conquest?”
“Yes.” Said Michael honestly. “And an experiment.”
“How so?”
“To see how much power over another Kindred I could have. Your sire, with her age and experience, obviously was not impressed. But you, you folded like a bad poker player confronted by a good bluff.”
“And what has that taught you?”
“That we are sheep among wolves and that it may be good for us childer to find common cause with one another. To trust in the benevolence of our elders seems foolish.”
“Seeking to trade favors to curry my favor. So like children pretending to be grown-ups, we play our own version of the vampire’s Danse Macabre.” She laughed. “So what do you offer, Michael?”
“A night you won’t forget.” Michael boasted boldly.
Corrine laughed again. “You offer so little.”
“You haven’t sampled the goods yet.”
She continued laughing. “Ah, but the anticipation is often greater than the having. And no decent barterer takes the first offer. You have to do better, Michael Allens.” With that, she turned and headed back to her sire.
Michael shrugged and was about to return to Deborah’s side when Ernie slinked over to him. “Is that an open offer? I would accept.”
Michael grimaced at the prospect. “No, Ernie, it is not open.” He said with as much politeness as he could muster. “I don’t go that way.”
Ernie gave an exaggerated pout. “Ah, but you don’t know what else I’d offer.” He proffered a business card. “Come and see.”
Michael took the offered card and looked at it.
The light within calls to you. We can help you answer it.
Church of Light Incarnate
7 Bullitt Ave
Roanoke, VA
Michael shrugged again, offered a polite thanks to Ernie, and then headed over to Deborah.
“She shot you down, didn’t she?” said Deb with a teasing tone.
“I guess scoring with another vamp is going to be harder.”
“Of course, it is. Mortals suspect nothing, knowing nothing of our powers or purposes. Another Kindred, on the other hand, expects a game is being played. Nothing is offered in our world without something expected in return. Everyone has an ulterior motive.”
“Including you.” Said Michael grimly.
“Of course. You know why I turned you. I’ve made that as clear as I safely can at this point.”
“So there’s no affection for me in the things you do?”
“Ah, don’t be so cynical as that, dear Michael. It does get lonely, being what we are. It does help to have someone to share even a brief part of our existence. Whatever other purposes I have for you, I am also fond of you, Michael Allens. You’ve made these last weeks more bearable.”
Michael was surprised to hear that from her. “So vampires can fall in love?”
“Oh, yes.” She said. “But we’re not there.”
“Is that where you want things to go?”
“There is nothing more perilous for our kind than that of which you speak. No, I don’t want to go there. And neither do you.”
Michael saw that as a strong hint to change the subject, but this was also something he wanted to ponder further. He brought forth the business card Ernie had given him.
“So, speaking of peril, what does this mean?”
“Ernie, or at least one part of him, runs a small religious cult out of an abandoned storefront in downtown Roanoke. Be cautious, Michael. You’ve gained his interest and that’s often not a good thing. And then Corrine, perhaps on Sophia’s orders, is playing hard to get with you, most likely to lure you in for some nefarious scheme.”
“So this is the other side of the coin? The other part of what it means to be a vampire.”
“Yes, this is what we call the Danse Macabre. The music to which each of us lives out our lives: Favors, maneuvers, schemes, plans, ambitions, desires. This is a lesson I can’t really teach you. You’ll have to learn this one on your own.”
----
There was a heaviness to the air inside the ICU at New River Valley Hospital. Upon the bed, plugged into a respirator and various monitors, was Todd. A slew of nurses and doctors tended to him and then one by one exited out of the room. Only a single male nurse and a single physician remained behind; the nurse busied himself with Todd’s charts, the doctor spoke to his companions.
“Your brother was lucky. He was found rather quickly and so we were able to stabilize him before…” said the Doctor.
“He would have died out there.” Said Shawn.
“Almost assuredly. And he still could, but he’s got a far better chance of survival now than he did laying on the ground in the woods. We’ll keep a close watch on him. You can see him, but I would recommend not staying too long. We’ll need to be in there with some regularity.”
With that, the Doctor headed down the hall towards the nurses’ station. Shawn and Rebecca both walked in.
“This is a seriously fucked up town.” Said Shawn.
“This is my fault.” Lamented Rebecca.
“Would you stop blaming yourself for everything, Becca?” said Shawn adamantly. “You did not kill Michael. You did not get my brother in this mess.”
“But you all came because of me. I came down here for answers. Michael’s been gone three weeks. The police have given up. His parents buried an empty coffin back in Charleston. But I couldn’t accept that he was gone. So I drag the two of you down here and now your brother nearly dies in a mugging. All for me and my stupidity.”
“Stop.” Barked Shawn fiercely. “This doesn’t help anybody.”
“Perhaps not. But I can’t help how I feel. I got you into this. I should have just accepted the truth and been done with it. I’m cursed. First my brother, then Michael, and now Todd. Everyone around me.”
“Now that’s a load of bullshit and you know it.”
“Plenty of evidence to the contrary.” Retorted Rebecca.
“There’s clearly no reasoning with you when you’re like this. Come on. The doctor said we shouldn’t linger. We’ll come back in the morning.” He took her by the arm and led her outside.
As they departed, the male nurse who had been standing by the whole time suddenly seemed to shimmer and change form. Where there had been a nurse, now stood a rather eccentrically dressed vampire.
“Curious.” Said Ernie to himself. “Most curious.”
Act One Chapter Eight
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