Eye of the Beholder

by M. D. Grimm

  Battles between supernatural creatures were often over territory. Battles with slayers were always personal.

  “Any word yet?” I asked.

  The duchess glanced over her shoulder at me, understanding in her gaze. “Not as yet. It frustrates me as much as it does you. I have ears everywhere, all over the world, and not all of them are vampire. I did not dally away my time in Italy, I can assure you. We will find the one who took Dain from us. I gave you my word, did I not?”

  She spoke softly and I lowered my head to hear her better. It was likely the few vamps in the corridors heard, but it wasn’t a secret that the duchess was hunting for the person who killed Dain. He had been an ally and the insult ran deep. However, I suspected the duchess’s interests were more personal. Whatever Dain had felt for the duchess, she had clearly been fond of him.

  “We still have no evidence that it was a slayer,” I said, wondering if I would ever find justice for my friend.

  “Only a slayer could disappear so expertly,” she said, eyes glinting with hunger. “Do not despair. Perhaps he will slip up and show himself. He cannot hide forever and still be a slayer. They are addicts, their need as visceral as a vampire’s thirst for blood.”

  What had Dain done to earn the wrath of a slayer? Was it simply because he took commissions from the paranormal crowd? Was it that petty? Or had he pissed someone off in the years before I joined up with him? He’d always warned me that slayers were vindictive and often shared their seething hatred and resentments with younger generations, training them to carry on the bloody lineage.

  “I just wish I knew if the slayer had something personal against Dain or if he was simply targeted for what he did for a living.”

  “That is something I also wish to know,” she said, “so I may better protect you.”

  I managed a smirk. “Your attention flatters me. I can handle myself.”

  She stopped outside the main ballroom and turned to me. “Dain thought as you did.”

  Her serious tone shook me. “Madam—”

  “We have had this discussion before, Vulcan. You were also a target that day. I am certain of it. The slayer will come back to finish the job one of these days, and I will be there to rip out his throat.”

  “Not if I get to him first.”

  She sent me a smile as sharp as a blade before turning and leading me into the ballroom, where the most important vamps mingled. The ornate balcony doors stood wide open, letting in the night breeze. The moon rode high in the sky, and a few stars twinkled in the blackness. At home I could see all the stars, the lights from LA dim enough to allow such beauty to shine.

  “Your favorite managed to join us,” Her Grace said as she handed me a flute of champagne. Vampires were on strict liquid diets, and while they needed blood to survive, they could also drink other things. A vamp could also get drunk even easier than a human could. Their internal systems were set up in such a way that whatever they consumed went right into their bloodstreams.

  “Did he?” I said before taking a sip. She gestured, and I smiled.

  “I will find you later,” she said, gently touching my arm. “I have some gems I would like you to forge into jewelry.”

  “My skills are always at your service,” I said, meaning it. I really liked her, and despite Dain’s warnings, I couldn’t be as detached as he’d apparently been. She’d earned more of my trust the night Dain died. But I never allowed myself to get any closer. We had to remain professional.

  By God, I wanted revenge. For me, for Dain. The pain might not leave, but at least it would be fed if I had that bastard’s blood on my hands.

  “Oh yes,” she said softly. “I have missed you dreadfully.” She kissed my cheeks, her soft lips cool and moist. Then she was gone, gliding over to a small group of other vampires.

  I blew out a breath and took a larger sip of champagne. I was gay, and yet her allure was palpable. It was the best way for vamps to attract their prey—by being attractive, sensual, irresistible. She hadn’t even been using the whammy, as I called it.

  Shaking myself, I walked over to General Cornelius Conrad, who once served during the Civil War. He smiled as I approached. He’d been a tough man in his late thirties when he was changed on the battlefield at Gettysburg. He hadn’t lost his ruggedness, and appeared more human, even with the alluring aura and extreme paleness, than most vamps.

  “Well, there he is,” Corny said.

  I grinned and shook his hand. “How are things, General?”

  “World’s going to hell in a handbasket,” he said cheerfully. “And that’s saying something coming from the likes of me.”

  “Will humans ever learn?”

  “No evidence of it so far.”

  I chuckled. “Maybe you vamps should put more effort into your manipulations of the government.”

  He sniffed as if insulted, and his hazel eyes gleamed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, my good sir!”

  I laughed outright at that. “Right, my mistake.”

  The couple of vamps Corny had been conversing with moved off as he and I fell into comfortable conversation about the weapons and tactics of the Civil War. I was also fascinated by the culture of that time, the idiosyncrasies and customs. In the scheme of things, it wasn’t so far removed from our current time, and yet in other ways, they were like two different worlds.

  Every now and then he’d glance away, keeping track of his mate. I couldn’t stop myself from following his gaze each time. His mate was a Voodoo priestess out of New Orleans, and I always found it amusing and rather sweet that Corny had fallen in love with a black woman. He’d fought on the side of the Confederacy and had admitted to me that he’d been a hardcore racist. Then Madame Marie Dupont had come into his life and the rest was history.

  Whenever their eyes would meet, she’d raise a glass to him and he’d grin stupidly.

  After about an hour, we lapsed into silence, and then amusement entered the general’s eyes.

  “Well, Vulcan, since you enjoy antiques like myself and Her Grace, I wonder what you’ll make of our newest guest.”

  “Who?” I immediately glanced around the ballroom.

  Corny nodded toward the balcony doors farthest from us. “He’s right over there.”

  I turned and looked. Froze. It was saying something that as I stood in a room full of dark, sensual predators with sex and danger oozing from their pores, this vampire made them all pale in comparison. He was taller than me, than Corny, his rangy body clothed all in black except for a buttoned shirt of navy blue. He stood straight and tall, reminding me of a soldier, like Corny. His hair was the color of honey, long enough to brush his shoulders. His pale face would have had perfect chiseled symmetry if not for the fact his nose had obviously been broken in the past. It added character to his expression. I knew the breaks had happened before his rebirth as a vampire since vamps healed perfectly without scars or anything to show they’d been injured in the first place.

  As I continued to stare—and yeah, drool—it was apparent he was mentally somewhere else. His eyes were unfocused, and he didn’t appear to notice anyone. He held a glass of blood in his hand and didn’t seem interested by it.

  I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. I almost took a sip from my empty glass. I knew Corny could probably smell my arousal, yet he was too much of a gentleman to say anything.

  “Who is he?” I said, my tone reverent, my voice hushed as if I were in church.

  “He has a lot of names. Can’t remember them all. I just call him Cassius. He was a Roman soldier, if I remember correctly.”

  My jaw dropped, and I finally tore my gaze away to stare at Corny.

  “Like the Rome? Ancient Rome?”

  Corny smirked at me. “Yes, indeed. Why don’t I introduce you?”

  Excitement bubbled in my gut as we walked toward the truly ancient vampire. I’d never met one so old. Come to think of it, I’d never even heard of one as old as him. Her Grace was the oldest I knew of, havi
ng been alive in the 1700s. Then there was Corny and Madame Marie. There were maybe one or two bopping around who’d been turned in the 1600s, but I couldn’t be sure. I never knew the exact reason for that, but Dain had once said something about how even vampires weren’t immune to the ravages of time. Nothing was truly immortal. While they couldn’t be easily killed, they seemed to suffer from the effects of old age.

  As we came closer to Cassius, I hazarded a guess that he was around six feet tall. Wow. He must have been considered a giant by his people since humans were generally shorter in ancient times.

  “Pardon me, Cassius, if you have a moment,” Corny said as we approached.

  Cassius’s eyes snapped into focus, and he turned his head to regard us. His bright blue eyes were at once inquisitive and intelligent, and he quirked his mouth slightly in a hint of a smile at seeing Corny. Then his gaze landed on me. I didn’t meet his eyes for survival reasons—easier to put the whammy on a victim with eye contact—and instead focused on his nose. I couldn’t read his expression, though I suspected he was curious as to my presence.

  “Cassius, this is Vulcan, our resident craftsman and blacksmith. Vulcan, Cassius.”

  Cassius tilted his head slightly. “So this is who the duchess wanted me to meet.”

  I raised an eyebrow at that and smiled. I detected a faint accent on a few words. “She wanted us to meet?”

  “Apparently she thought we might find each other interesting.”

  “Hmmm. As I’m sure you know, she’s never wrong about such things.”

  He chuckled. It was a nice sound.

  Since I didn’t believe in wasting time—nor could I stop myself—I said, “I have to ask: which Rome? Pagan or Christian?”

  He took a sip of blood before answering, apparently unfazed by my question. “Pagan.”

  “Before or after Caesar?”

  “Which one?”

  “Funny. The first one.”

  “After.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and noticed Corny sidle off, leaving us together. I didn’t mind. I liked Cassius’s voice—it was deep and smooth—and I didn’t get “deranged bloodsucker” from the guy. I’d been around vamps long enough to sense such things. There were some in the coven I gave a wide berth, but his, well, aura, for a lack of a better word, was… steady and nonthreatening.

  “What did you think of Christianity?”

  He smirked. “Honestly? I thought it was a phase.”

  I snorted a laugh. I couldn’t help it. “Must have been a rude wake-up call when Rome converted.”

  “To say the least. Yet it was the politically sound thing to do.”

  “I always thought that believing in one god always sounded boring.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  “You still pagan?”

  “Aren’t you full of questions?”

  “Dude, when is the next time I’m going to encounter someone who literally defines the word ancient? Can’t blame me for being fascinated.” Then I shrugged, struck with a sudden horrible sense of self-consciousness. I swallowed the rest of my ravenous curiosity, my face heating. “But I don’t want to be rude and monopolize your time, so….”

  I nearly ducked my head and took a step as if to move away, but he subtly shifted his body, keeping me in place. What?

  “I don’t mind,” he said casually. “I’ve been in Italy for the past fifty years, mostly alone. My only conversations have been with my own kind. They can be rather self-absorbed, as I’m sure you know. It is nice to meet someone interested in the past.”

  I suspected he was flattered by my attention. Whatever worked.

  “I’d say fascinated would be more accurate,” I said. “Especially when it comes to weapons and architecture, and the Romans excelled in both.”

  He smiled fully at that. It was a good smile and softened his face. I strenuously tried to keep my arousal hidden and ignored, yet the longer I was with him, the harder it became. But I couldn’t make myself leave. I had a freaking ancient vampire standing in front of me, and I wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.

  “Rome never had an original idea in her head,” he said. “But she perfected what she stole.”

  I snorted a laugh. “Is that right?”

  “Mm-hm. She was a genius at persuading people that being Roman was the best thing ever. The propaganda was well done.”

  “So being Roman wasn’t what it was cracked up to be?”

  He tilted his head from side to side. “It was and it wasn’t.” He sipped from his glass.

  After a short pause, I asked, “What brought you to the States?”

  “The duchess. She decided to drag me along, claiming I needed a change in scenery.”

  “Well, the US offers that much, I can promise. Whether the scenery is worth viewing is left to the individual.”

  He chuckled softly. “I’d say that so far I like what I see.”

  He stared directly at me when he said it. My heart jumped even as I called myself an idiot. I wasn’t even close to attractive. I didn’t consider myself ugly but certainly not up to his standards. Of course, he could just be craving my blood, and that had nothing to do with sexual needs. Well, he wasn’t getting that. No vamp was. Ever.

  “What did you think of the gladiatorial games?”

  “I enjoyed them far too much,” he said with a wolfish grin.

  A server walked by with a tray of champagne flutes, and I snagged another, trading in my empty one.

  “You mind if I pick your brain?” I asked.

  “About the games?”

  “About all of it. The culture, the people, the politics. Of course the weapons and wars. I’m a history nerd, if you hadn’t guessed,” I added.

  “I would be delighted.”

  “I won’t take up much of your time,” I said, reminding myself we were at a party and there were duties and obligations. “Just a few questions for now and—”

  Cassius shrugged and shook his head. “My time is my own. Can you imagine any of these children telling me what to do?”

  I shook my head. “Not if they wanted to keep their immortal lives.”

  “Precisely. Let’s step outside so we can hear each other better.”

  It wasn’t that noisy inside, and he had preternatural hearing, but I wasn’t going to argue with him. We stepped onto the balcony, and I finally unleashed my questions on the poor guy. I ended up taking out my notebook, realizing he was truly a wealth of information, and he wasn’t going to hold back anything. When he described the weapons, I set my notepad on the railing and sketched them. He watched me as I did so, pointing out a few adjustments before giving me a nod of approval.

  “Yes, exactly that. You have a talent many would envy.”

  I cleared my throat and tried not to blush. I got complimented on my work all the time, so why did his make me so flustered?

  “I wonder if I might impose upon your time with a few requests of my own.”

  I grinned. “Please, impose away.”

  He smiled. “How are you at replicas?”

  “I’ve tried my hand at a few. Never heard any complaints.” I held in my excitement at the thought that maybe he’d want a replica of an actual ancient Roman sword used in battle. Maybe one of his personal swords.

  “Cassius, my dear!”

  I jerked and gaped as a tall, leggy brunette rushed onto the balcony and nearly threw herself at Cassius. I staggered backward to avoid the poofy dress and struggled not to scowl at the interruption.

  “Lindsey, you certainly know how to make an entrance,” he said, raising an eyebrow as he squeezed her hand in greeting.

  Right. Lindsey. One of the duchess’s sycophantic clingers. She always glared at me like I was a pile of dog shit that had stained her jewel-encrusted shoes. I gritted my teeth and mumbled a goodbye. I nearly slipped past them before Cassius latched onto my arm and tugged me back with deliberate force.

  Whoa.

  He pulled me close to his side and, wo
w, did he smell nice. All the while Lindsey was chirping away, fawning and stroking his chest. It was hard not to activate my cuff blades and poke at her.

  “Lindsey, I fear you caught me at a bad time,” he said the moment she paused to take a breath. “I have business to handle tonight and not much time for socializing. I’m sure, however, that there are plenty of gentlemen here who would be desperate for your company.”

  She pouted. “Poo, you never were much fun. Those years in Italy certainly didn’t improve you on that score.”

  He smiled indulgently before diplomatically dismissing her. She sauntered off, head high, steps haughty and confident. She was barely a hundred years old and already greedy and entitled.

  I noted where Cassius still had a hold of my arm before slowly tracking my gaze up to his face. He watched Lindsey leave, his smile gone, his eyes hard. Then he looked down at me and his gaze softened. He let go and gestured for me to rejoin him.

  “I apologize for the interruption. I hope you might stay so we can continue.”

  “Uh, yeah. Sure. Right.” I cleared my throat, feeling rather whiplashed by the sudden entry and exit of Lindsey.

  Our conversation soon moved to military campaigns, and I learned he’d, indeed, been a solider like Corny had said. But he was a bit cagey with the details. Too personal, I guessed. Besides, we did just meet.

  The moon progressed on its path across the sky and the other vampires either left or retired to their rooms. At certain intervals, a few of the other attendees would step out to try to engage Cassius in conversation. Despite my annoyance at the interruptions, I kept my mouth shut and waited for any cue from Cassius that he wanted to end my monopoly of his time. To my surprise and pleasure, he never appeared interested in engaging with them for long. Even my few testing attempts to end the conversation didn’t seem to interest him in the least. He appeared to actually enjoy his time with me, so I stopped trying to wrap things up. It had been years since I’d enjoyed myself this much. It could very well be possible I’d never enjoyed myself this much.