Blood Haven: Year One: A Mayhem of Magic World Story

by Nicole Zoltack

  Chapter 15

  Romelia

  My mind is positively boggled. “They were cousins?”

  "Yes. Ambrogio abandoned Lycaon in his pursuit of Selene. Some believe this is why Lycaon tried to one-up the demon, because he felt betrayed by his own blood. And with every painful transformation under the moon, Lycaon grew more and more bitter. When the stories reached him that Selene might be the moon, Lycaon grew to hate his cousin."

  “Please don’t tell me…”

  The professor nods. “At this point, Selene was not in the picture. Does this mean she was elsewhere? Visiting a friend? Was she the moon after all? I don’t know, but Lycaon sought out the cave where his cousin lived with Selene. The two argued for weeks, long enough for the moon to become full. The instant Lycaon turned into his wolf, he attacked his cousin.”

  “Ambrogio had to have won, didn’t he? He was a great hunter!”

  “He would have won if he fought back, but he didn’t. He allowed Lycaon to kill him.”

  “But why?” I cry. “Selene must be the moon then, or else… maybe someone else killed her? Why else would Ambrogio want to die? His soul remained in Hell! Selene’s wouldn’t have gone to Hell, would it have?”

  “Some people believe that vampires all go to Hell when they die,” Professor Marius says. “Either she turned and became a vampire, or she became the moon. If she was the moon, then she could not truly be with Ambrogio, and maybe it was no longer enough for him.”

  “Lycaon… He had to have gone entirely mad after killing his cousin.”

  “When he reverted back to himself, covered in his cousin’s blood, Lycaon went to take his own life.”

  “But someone stopped him?”

  “Yes, his own son.”

  “The one he had killed.”

  “Yes. Forgiveness is a powerful weapon, even more powerful than love, and his son wept over Lycaon and granted him unasked-for forgiveness, and Lycaon began to weep himself. From that moment on, Lycaon was a changed man. He was a great king to his people, but Ambrogio, or maybe Selene, had made other vampires, and they knew what had transpired to their sire. They abhorred hatred, the kind of hatred that seeps from one generation to the next. Some of the descendants of Lycaon shared his madness, shared his hatred, and werewolves and vampires have hated each other ever since.”

  “And there’s never… Bellanore Shade…”

  Professor Marius eyes me as if studying me. He has that same expression on his face when he’s discerning symbols from ancient texts.

  I nod slowly and back away. “I thank you for the history lesson, but I suppose I should be getting back to my castle now.”

  “I think that would be wise, Romelia,” he says.

  Instead of using my vampiric speed, I walk back toward the castle. I’ll have to find another way to get to Julian. Maybe try another area at another time.

  I’m halfway to the castle when my phone rings. It’s Mother.

  Not wanting to talk to her out in public, I dash to my room and answer the call right before it would have gone to voicemail.

  “Hello, Mother.”

  “Romelia, you haven’t called in quite some time.”

  “I’ve been busy,” I say, which is the truth. I just allow her to think I mean with schoolwork rather than using thoughts of Julian to pass the time while I had been in the dungeon.

  “Busy with Constantine, I hope.”

  Constantine.

  I’ve actually forgotten all about him.

  “You aren’t saying anything,” Mother says. “Is that a good thing? I can’t tell. Are you blushing? Should we—”

  “I…”

  “You did see him at the ball, didn’t you?”

  The events at the ball before I met Julian are all a blur, but maybe I did see Constantine there. I do think a vampire pointed him out to me just before Julian plowed into me.

  “I did see him, yes.”

  “And? Isn’t he a nice, pleasant young vampire? Handsome too. He would make a wonderful husband someday.”

  “Husband?” I spit out. “Mother, I’m sixteen. That’s too young—”

  “Nonsense! You act as if sixteen is too young. When I was sixteen, I already outlived a husband, and I was human then.”

  “Women married when they were, wait, five back in your time?” I tease.

  “More like twelve,” she murmurs. “We also listened to our mothers.”

  “I am listening to you.”

  “You aren’t considering Constantine like I want you to.”

  “Why him? Is it just because of his wealth? Because we don’t need—”

  “It’s more than his wealth. Constantine comes from a very powerful line of—”

  “All vampires come from the same line,” I interrupt.

  “Yes, but Constantine is like you, my dear.”

  My heart sinks. “He has a demon for a father too.”

  “Yes, he does.”

  Hmm. Is his father a descendant of Zarab? For that matter, mine might be. And then there’s Damien, the demonic witch. Demons have been busy throughout history, contaminating the other types of paranormal beings with their depravity and wickedness.

  “This is more who Father wants for me, isn’t it?” I grumble.

  "Silly girl. What your father wants, I want too. You should want to make him happy."

  “Why? To make sure he doesn’t become angry and curse someone?”

  “Romelia! What has gotten into you lately? This is why I was against you attending this academy from the start. They are planting such twisted and strange ideas—”

  “I am quite capable of coming up with my own ideas, thank you very much,” I say dryly. “Speaking of Father, may I talk to him, Mother?”

  She says nothing.

  "Or is he too busy?" I ask, certain she can hear the unspoken part of my question.

  Too busy cursing someone.

  Not that I know if my father has cursed someone, but then again, I don’t know that he hasn’t either.

  “Hold on.”

  There’s fumbling, and then my father says, “Romelia.”

  “I hope you aren’t too busy to take my call.”

  “Never. What is it you require?”

  I flinch. “I was wondering if you might know something about someone.”

  “Do try to be more cryptic,” he says dryly.

  I smile despite myself. “I don’t know if you know—”

  “Are you referring to Constantine?”

  “No,” I say quickly.

  There’s a pause, and I can sense how unsettled my father is even over the phone.

  "Any questions I have about Constantine, I can ask him myself," I say to placate him.

  “Very well. Who then?” Father asks.

  “A werewolf named Bellanore Shade. Do you know who she is?”

  “I do.”

  “And?”

  “What do you want to know about her?”

  “I… There’s a rumor going around…”

  “Vampires talking about werewolves. Why am I not surprised? The two of your kinds have never been able to stay away from each other’s necks for very long.”

  “Why is that, by the way?” I ask, trying to sound indifferent and not at all interested in his perspective of things.

  Father grunts. “Werewolves are all primal instincts, all animalistic. They’re tethered to nature in an unholy way. Vampires, on the other claw…” He pauses to chuckle. “Vampires are more inhuman and inhumane. At their very core, they are opposites, and opposites most certainly do not attract.”

  I shake my head, grateful he can’t see me. “I see. About Bellanore Shade… I mean, her last name is Shade, and mine is Covenshade…”

  “Are you asking if you’re related to a werewolf?” he asks, his voice thunderously loud.

  I flinch and don’t answer.

  “Because you are. Distant cousins,” he proclaims.

  “I am? But how? You just said vampires and—”
<
br />   "No. Not because of your vampire side. Daughter, are you that naïve? You need to return to my roof so you can be taught the ways of the world. You have a demon for a father, or have you forgotten?"

  “Of course not.”

  "I have lived for a long time, and there were women before your mother, just as your mother had men before me. None after, though."

  “Not for me and not for you either,” I can hear Mom say in the background.

  Father chuckles.

  “So she… Her mother’s mother, an aunt or great-aunt… Someone like that you were with?” I ask.

  “Yes. Coven is your mother’s last name. Shade is mine. Covenshade.”

  “And you have an entire line of werewolves that share your last name.”

  “Yes. I went on a werewolf spree back in the… twelve-hundreds? Thirteen-hundreds? I’m not sure when exactly, so there’s very little demon blood in this Bellanore Shade. Who knows? It’s possible it’s almost diluted out entirely. Why? Is something going on with the vampires and the werewolves?”

  The last thing I want is for him to poke his nose into this, so I claim, “Someone’s calling me. I have to go. It was nice talking to you.”

  I hang up and close my eyes as I breathe out a breath.

  “So…”

  I jump and whirl around to see Tyra enter my room.

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help overhearing what you and your mother were talking about. Have you seen him then?” she presses. “And by him, I mean Constantine, just in case you were wondering.”

  “I saw him.”

  “When? At the party? Because that’s a lie.”

  “I saw him in passing.”

  “Maybe,” she stress. “You might have seen him in passing. You told me that you would see him. You told your mother you would too, but you haven’t, have you?”

  “We only just got out of the dungeon,” I protest.

  “Hmm.” She crosses over to me and touches the gold cufflink. “Where did you get this?”

  I flinch and clench my hands into fists, so I don't slap her hand away. My fangs ache, and I hate that my body reacts so quickly toward violence.

  "I also overheard you talking about Bellanore," Tyra remarks, stepping back. Her tone is a bit cool, indifferent now, but the tension in her shoulders reveals that to be a lie. "Now that I think about it, I'm sure I saw Julian staring at Bellanore at the party."

  “Is that right?” I ask with a shrug.

  After all, Julian already told me he came to find the werewolf.

  “I didn’t even know Bellanore attended,” I say. “A werewolf really did come?”

  “Oh, come off it. You know your… whatever… was there.”

  “But Bellanore was? Is some of the nonsense because of her and not…”

  Tyra grimaces. “Why do you want her to be the guilty party?”

  “I don’t. I don’t even know her.”

  “Just like you don’t know Constantine,” she harps.

  “You sound just like my mother.”

  “Your mother is a very wise woman, so thank you.” Tyra giggles. “You don’t care that he was staring at her?”

  “No.”

  “It doesn’t bother you at all?”

  “No,” I repeat.

  Tyra beams. It’s amazing how much happiness can relax her entirely. Clearly, she thinks that means that Julian doesn’t claim me at all, but I already know about this, and I trust Julian. He’s not playing me. Honestly, I almost wonder if he doesn’t know Bellanore all that well, just as I don’t know Constantine.

  “Being in the dungeon wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” Tyra says as she links our arms. “But I am dying for a drink. What do you say that we go on to the café and find us a human?”

  “You know I won’t drink from the source,” I remind her.

  “I know, but the academy goes to all that trouble to find us humans to drink from,” she says. “They’re all criminals. It’s not as if we’re drinking from good, kind people. Just the terrible ones. And they don’t know what’s happening. No screaming. They just stand there and—”

  “That sounds dreadful. No.”

  “You know we can’t drink from blood bags,” I say.

  “With our demon blood, we should be able to,” she says.

  I grimace. A normal vampire can’t drink from a blood bag because it will kill her. I’m not willing to take that risk.

  What I drink is blood taken from the source and put into a cup. It will be good for a few hours. I don’t know if it’s the preservatives or additives in blood bags that will kill vampires, but I wish that would suffice. Then, no vampires would ever have to drink from a human ever again.

  Although I’m sure that many would prefer that still. Vampires can be as inhumane as Father claimed.

  But no matter what anyone says or claims, I think that a vampire and a werewolf can be together and can be happy. Just because there’s been hatred since vampires and werewolves were first created doesn’t mean that that hatred has to rule the day forevermore.

  No. If given a choice, I will choose love every time.

  But if that love will lead to chaos among the two paranormal beings…

  Chapter 16

  Romelia

  We head to the cafeteria, which is a massively long black tent. On one side are the humans. On the other side is food, mostly for the living vampires as the dead ones don't necessarily need food to survive. In the middle is a line of goblets that can be used by those who prefer to drink from cups rather than from wrists. Neck drinking isn't allowed on campus since that's when vampires tend to get in trouble. Drinking from the wrist is easier when trying to maintain control. Several guards are always at the tent to watch over the humans and to ensure their safety. The humans are all compelled to obey, so there's no reason to worry that we're the ones who need to be watched for welfare purposes.

  I grab a goblet and just shake my head as Tyra hands me another one.

  She lifts her eyebrows and shakes her hips. “You haven’t had a proper drink in days,” she says.

  True.

  I wait for her to drink, and then we lazily walk over toward the lines and rows of tables with massive benches.

  “Let’s sit under a tree,” I suggest.

  Tyra shrugs, and we sit beneath an apple blossom tree.

  I've only drunk the first of my goblets—seriously? I mean, this is not the fourteen-hundreds, and I swear that's where the goblets came from—when a vampire with black hair that reaches her elbows approach.

  “I know you two were in the dungeon,” she says in a rush, her red eyes bright and shining, “so I don’t know if you heard.”

  My stomach twists into knots, and I drink a gulp of the blood. We crave it at all times, but I'm able to ignore and suppress the craving for the most part. Otherwise, we would be nothing more than bloodthirsty monsters, living each second in pursuit of the next swallow, leaving a trail of blood-drained husked bodies in our wake.

  “What happened?” Tyra asks eagerly.

  “There was a blood bath. A bunch more vampires are in the dungeons now.” The vampire, Sandra, seems almost giddy.

  “A blood bath?” I echo. Just as the headmaster feared.

  “A bunch of vampires tried to make a break for Moonstone Academy. They were thwarted, though, and they couldn’t stop the bloodlust. They had gone too far, so they went into a nearby town, and… Yeah. Blood bath.”

  “How many humans died?” I murmur.

  "I don't know." She shrugs. "But it was a huge deal. Agents from HEX Unite had to step in and clean up the mess. I don't think they were too happy with the headmaster."

  “They didn’t want to lock up any of the students, did they?” I ask.

  "They can't. Agents from HEX Unite don't have jurisdiction over students," Tyra claims.

  “That’s not exactly true,” Sandra cuts in. “Students are more likely to be sent to Magical Prison—”

  “Wait. More likely?” I ask
, my voice rising. “So some are executed?”

  "Not often, but it does happen." Sandra shrugs. "My dad's a guard at the prison. He hates it, though, so I think he's going to ask for a transfer. He used to be a paranormal hunter, but he might've slain a few of them."

  “It happens,” Tyra says sympathetically.

  But I’m shocked to the point of being sick to my stomach. I’m not even sure if I can finish my second goblet.

  But Tyra would notice, and she would ask questions, so I chug the rest.

  “I’m going to lie down for a bit,” I declare. “Tomorrow’s another day.”

  “Are you looking forward to classes?” Tyra asks.

  “No.”

  We all laugh.

  “You guys didn’t miss much,” Sandra says. “Honestly, even the professors seem to be on edge.”

  “They’re working double time,” I say.

  Tyra tilts her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

  Whoops. Fang-tastic.

  "I just noticed that some of the people patrolling the grounds are the professors, not just guards."

  “Oh, that.” Sandra waves her hand airily. “We don’t have enough grounds to watch the entire perimeter of this place. It is a huge, sprawling campus after all. I mean, can you imagine trying to watch every inch of it because the second you turn your back, a student could slip through? We all have super speed, so…”

  "Yes," Tyra murmurs, staring at me in a way that makes me think she's onto me. Of course she is. She has to be wondering how I knew about the professors acting as guards. "One blink and a student could slip on by."

  “Well, I’m going to slip on by to bed and under the covers,” I say.

  “I’ll join you,” Tyra declares.

  Of course. There goes my chance at trying to sneak off again. There has to be another way to contact Julian. If only I had his number! Not that I would be able to call him, considering Tyra and the other vampires will overhear the conversation. I’m so very lucky that the other vampires who live with us hadn’t returned from the party when Julian had been here.

  Even if the other vampires didn't want to eavesdrop, they can't help it. We hear what we hear. It's not as if we can choose to have human hearing instead. Just like we can't opt out of our emotions. If anything, we feel emotions more fully than humans do. But given our great hearing, we can notice a breeze before we feel it because of the whisper of grass rustling. We can hear heartbeats up to a mile away. We can hear hale forming in clouds far above us. Everything we can hear down to the tiniest detail, and I enjoy it. The inhale of a bird before she sings, that split second before a bullfrog releases his deep croak, the pitter-patter of dewdrops falling from leaves after a morning rain… There are so many wonderful sounds all around us. Even a conversation doesn't prevent us from hearing each tiny detail of the world around us. We might be counter to nature by needing others to survive, but we can also appreciate nature more than a human can.