The Silver Bird: Immortal Secrets Trilogy Book One (Immortals Secrets Trilogy 1)

by S J Williams

  “Just Effie,” Sonya warned him, the glow reaching her eyes. Effie felt like it was pulling at her, a subtle urge to obey Sonya’s every whim.

  From the corner of her eye, Effie saw Lucien tug on Sebastian’s sleeve.

  “We will have to pick our battles tonight.” He murmured, sending a glare towards Sonya and her party. Sebastian violently shook his head, but didn’t hold Effie back when her feet carried her helplessly across the room.

  “If you would be so kind, my dear?” Bartholomew said quietly, turning to Effie with a medical syringe in his hand.

  “You’re hardly asking for my permission.” She hissed at him, once more in control of her mind.

  “You’re hardly in a position to refuse it.” He answered, his eyes levelled at her in a triumphant smile.

  Sonya’s voice rang out over them.

  “Effie. Do you consent to giving blood to aid this experiment?”

  It was phrased as a request, but Bartholomew was right, Effie didn’t have a choice. Gritting her teeth, she held out one arm to Bartholomew. He took one syringe-full of blood, then reached for another.

  “What are you doing?” She protested. She tried to draw her arm back. His fingers dug painfully into her skin, holding her in place.

  “I will not be the only one taking the elixir tonight.” He informed her, his voice worryingly smug.

  Effie glanced behind her where her friends were watching. Sebastian looked ready to commit murder. Both Henry and Lucien were holding him back now. Catarina was standing beside them, arms hugging her body, face white with fury. Her eyes were fixed, unblinking, on Bartholomew like a snake watching a mouse.

  “Effie?” Sonya’s lilting voice reminded her of how little she was in control of this situation. Straightening her shoulders, she glared at Bartholomew as he continued to take two more vials of blood.

  “Thank you, my dear.” He said at last. Then, for her ears only, he whispered, “So sweet.” He offered her a piece of gauze. She snatched it from him and stepped back, standing as far away from him as she could without bumping into the watching councillors.

  “I will now demonstrate how I, a master vampire, can stop myself from drinking a human to death.” Bartholomew addressed his audience again, once more the posing showman. “Then, to prove that all vampires of any power level may also enjoy the same benefits, I will give a young vampire the elixir and repeat the demonstration with him.”

  The immortals around Effie stirred. Some grimaced. Their discomfort reminded her that every new vampire was a failure for them.

  Not so sure of yourselves now, are you? She thought savagely.

  With a flourish, Bartholomew mixed the vials of blood and potion in a beaker and swallowed it like a shot of vodka. He paused. The room was utterly still. Effie couldn’t even hear the sounds of breathing. He turned to Laura. She put down the briefcase and walked towards him, angling her head to one side.

  Effie hoped her blank expression meant the girl was oblivious to what was about to happen to her.

  Brushing Laura’s hair out of the way, Bartholomew lowered his lips to her neck and bit. He took two long pulls, then withdrew his fangs and stepped back. Turning back to his audience, he held up his hands.

  “Do you see them shake?” He demanded of the watching immortals. “Do you see me in any state of distress? Do you hear my racing heart, feel the fever of all-consuming need? I am completely and utterly at liberty to walk away from this mortal, even with the taste of her blood on my tongue. But,” he slowly turned on the spot. “I see you are not convinced. Very well. Arthur!”

  Movement from outside the door, then another man walked in. He cringed, his head angled to the floor, as he scuttled forwards between the ranks of immortals. Clearly this vampire was not as confident as Bartholomew that he was going to come out of this alive. Effie found she had some sympathy for him. Like her, she very much doubted he had any choice about being here today.

  As soon as the vampire neared her and Laura, however, his entire bearing changed. First, he went rigid, like a dog catching a scent. Then, his shoulders dropped and his body became loose and ready. Ready to pounce, Effie thought. His eyes swept from Laura to her where they remained, fixated on her neck. Immortals on either side of them stirred, also ready to leap forward should the young vampire lose control.

  “Now, now, Arthur.” Bartholomew chided. “Not until you’ve had your medicine.” In two seconds, he’d collared the wayward vampire and forced a newly mixed potion down his throat. Arthur stiffened again but then his body relaxed, no longer intent on the hunt. He blinked, staring at Effie and Laura in disbelief.

  “Now you may drink.” Bartholomew said, wrapping his arm around Arthur’s shoulders and turning him towards Laura with a grand sweep of the other arm. Arthur stumbled forwards. Delicately, he reached out for Laura and, as she did for Bartholomew, she tilted her head to one side, offering her neck to him. Arthur bit and began to drink.

  “That is enough.” Bartholomew ordered when he’d taken a few swallows. “Step back.” His voice was even, without any hint of threat or coercion. But Arthur stopped drinking, letting Laura go and stepping back, his fangs retracting.

  Silence.

  Then, “Impossible.”

  The word was spoken quietly, too quietly for Effie to pinpoint where it had come from. But she was sure the sentiment was universal. Bartholomew had done what he’d promised. Miracles from heaven would have been easier to believe.

  “With this elixir, you have shown how to protect mortals from the appetite of vampires. But why did you need to reveal the existence of immortals to the mortal population?” That was Oscar again. There was an edge in his voice that said he wasn’t so happy with his role in this play.

  “Vampires will still, sadly, need blood to survive.” And Bartholomew’s voice did sound sad, like a stage whisper sounded quiet. “But, if we can get the cooperation of mortals to feed from them, then the exchange no longer has to be one of deception and rape.”

  “Insane.” Nazarin scoffed. “The mortals will not happily give you blood. Why would they suffer the existence of any immortals at all? We are clearly a threat to all they believe in.”

  “You said the potion would also cure the rarity of immortality.” Sonya interjected quickly, sensing the room slipping from her control. “Would you like to explain what you meant by that?”

  “What I meant is simple. You have seen the results when a vampire drinks this elixir. I will prove to you now what happens when a human, an ordinary mortal, also drinks from the elixir.”

  This time, when Laura walked forwards, she didn’t tilt her head. Instead, she held out her hand to receive the third and final dose of the potion.

  She drank. The whole room watched her with avid attention.

  At first, Laura showed no sign of having been affected by the potion. Then, slowly, her eyes began to clear. Dazed, she shook her head and looked around, finally in command of her own actions. Clearly, she didn’t like what she saw, because she shrank back, head snapping wildly around as she tried to understand how she came to be in a strange room, surrounded by even stranger people.

  Had he taken her in a controlled state all the way from Italy? Effie wondered with horror.

  Bartholomew did not give the poor girl time to get her bearings. Stepping forwards, he grabbed her arm with one hand, a flash of steel in the other. Too late, Effie jumped forwards to try to stop him.

  He let go of Laura as she jerked away from him, clutching her upper arm while scarlet bloomed between her fingers. She stared at Bartholomew with a mixture of horror and revulsion.

  “What did you do?” She shrieked at him in Italian. Effie wasn’t sure just what she was accusing him of, the list of his crimes was so long. But she now knew one thing for sure. This was the Laura from the phone call. That frightened voice was the same.

  Laura’s fear, however, changed to confusion and then to wonder as she turned her head to stare at her upper arm with disbelief. Slowly, she
let go and wiped the blood away. The cut beneath had already stopped bleeding and, before the eyes of everyone watching, was sealing at an inhuman speed.

  “What did you do?” She breathed.

  The council erupted. Immortals were on their feet, shouting and pointing. Some appeared livid, pointing and shouting insults and accusations at Bartholomew. Others were shaking their heads in wonder at Laura.

  “With regular doses of this elixir,” Bartholomew called out over the chaos, “anyone can be immortal. And so you see, my dear cousins, I have the answer to revealing our existence to mortals. If anyone can be immortal, they will have no reason to want to kill us off. They will be begging to join us!”

  “What absolute bollocks!” The Australian councillor’s voice somehow managed to carry over the din. Shouts died down as the others turned to listen. “Admit it, it’s a bastardised form of immortality at best. It’s not even immortality, it’s a life-extending drug. If what you say is true, and humans will need regular doses to benefit, then we’ll never be able to make enough to compensate for all the blood humans will have to donate to feed vampires. They won’t see it as a fair exchange.”

  “It’s not about a fair exchange.” Oscar Mansfeld stood up after one last greedy glance at Effie. “It’s about a bargaining chip. We control the mortals’ access to the elixir. They will be forced to deal with us if they want access to immortality.” His eyes glowed at the prospect.

  Sebastian felt a sudden spike in Effie’s anxiety. For what felt like the hundredth time that night, he wished their telepathic bond was re-established. If anything, it could have reminded Effie that she wasn’t alone, that he would never let her face this alone.

  Sonya’s voice rang out, drawing all eyes to her again.

  “Whatever deal we will have to make, it will be worth it, surely my friends, to finally relieve ourselves of the burden of secrecy that has dogged us for so long.”

  “I wasn’t aware we had a problem with living in secret.” Catarina muttered.

  But a quick glance around the room told him that Sonya might not be the only councillor who would welcome the freedom to be open about their immortality and the increased power over mortals that could come with that freedom. While the immortals around them weren’t exactly smiling yet, there were a few thoughtful expressions and the looks being cast towards Sonya were less hostile than before.

  One face, however, was still sceptical.

  Harper Reed leaned his head back so that it rested against the ornate wall painting behind him, watching Oscar through narrowed eyes. The rugged Australian looked almost comically out of place in the Louis XV chair, a wolf at a tea party.

  “You think the humans won’t work out the recipe for themselves? They’ve got more experience in making drugs than we have.”

  “The recipe is very particular in the preparation of its ingredients.” Bartholomew’s voice was quiet but it carried throughout the room, possibly because every immortal froze when they heard it. “It would be hard for immortals to conceive of it, let alone recreate it.”

  Harper ignored Bartholomew, keeping his eyes on Oscar.

  “Another thing about this bargaining chip. Who, exactly, holds it? If it depends on who knows the recipe, then the only immortal in this room with the advantage is the vampire.”

  Sebastian wasn’t surprised that it was Harper who had asked the question. As the councillor for Australasia, he was known for working his way to the top of every power structure he set his sights on. By whatever means necessary. If he could find a way to dominate the production of the elixir, at least in his region, then he would go for it, no holds barred.

  “The vampire has agreed to negotiate terms of access to the recipe.” Oscar said with another hungry glance at Effie that Sebastian did not like.

  “With you?” Harper asked, raising one unimpressed eyebrow.

  “With the council.” Sonya stepped between the two immortals with a gracious smile. “We will of course hold a debate to establish how exactly we will scale up production and distribution.”

  “I fear we will never reach that stage.” Lucien’s voice rang out in the pause that followed her words. All eyes turned to him as he made his way through the clusters of chairs to the centre of the room.

  “We?” Chowdhury, a councillor whose territory swept across much of southern India, leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest, unconsciously echoing Harper’s posture. He gave Lucien a haughty look from where he sat in Sonya’s inner circle. “I wasn’t aware that you had joined the council, scholar.”

  Nero cleared his throat.

  “I don’t think any member of the council would be willing to ignore the advice of Lucien when he chooses to give it.”

  There were a few nervous rustlings, even a few smiles, at Nero’s words. Chowdhury only scowled.

  “Lucien.” Apollo’s deep voice was warm with invitation. “Will you explain your fears to us?”

  Lucien nodded without looking back. “It is an oversight that I fear. Mainly an oversight of the availability of what might be considered the key ingredient for this elixir. How, my esteemed councillors, are we going to source the potential immortal blood for this elixir?”

  The only response was more rustling, only this time it was accompanied with frowns and whispers as the immortals realised the true ramifications of his statement. Potential immortals were rare. The objective, when they were found, was to turn them, not keep them mortal for their blood.

  Sonya, however, only smiled.

  “I’m glad you asked that question, for it is the reason I held this party.” Snaking out an arm, she wrapped it around Effie’s shoulders. “This is the answer to your question. This is the source for our elixir.”

  Effie’s face went deathly pale as she gaped at Sonya. Sebastian darted forwards, only to be held back by Zaya’s steely grip.

  “Now is not the time to start a battle,” she murmured, her words heavy with experience. Muscles still bunched and ready, he looked around. There were some sharp frowns in the faces of the watching councillors. But not all of them. Some, Oscar included, were watching Effie like fat frogs with their eye on a particularly juicy fly.

  “As we have all seen, Effie has already donated blood for the elixir without suffering any harm. I am quite sure she will be happy to donate more. Why else would she have published the portraits, if she did not fully support the elixir?”

  “Three doses.” Lucien protested, ignoring for now the renewed attack on Effie’s innocence. “She donated enough blood for three doses. That will hardly be sufficient to cure all vampires of bloodlust, let alone provide enough doses to tempt the mortals onto our side. We don’t even know how long the effects of the elixir last.”

  The councillors around them, not including Sonya’s supporters, were exchanging distinctly uneasy looks now. Sonya, however, only smiled, a look of feline satisfaction in her eyes.

  “Ah, but you do not see, Lucien the wise, that the point is not to make enough doses for everyone. We only need to make enough to supply those who can pay. We do not need to win the loyalty of all humans, just those in… let’s say, sensitive positions. As for the vampires, those who cannot pay we will simply continue to hunt.”

  So much for peace between the races, Sebastian thought grimly.

  “And you expect these influential persons to be able to quash the outrage and panic that will arise from his trial?” Lucien gave Oscar a disparaging look.

  “I’m sure my family can be persuaded to settle out of court, if the price is high enough.” Oscar supplied silkily.

  “I see.” Lucien said, his expression openly disgusted now. “And this is the cause Effie must give her blood for? To strengthen your grip on power and property.”

  Sonya shrugged delicately. “It would not need to be forever. We will only need her cooperation until we can find more potential immortals. Then she may retire and be turned.”

  Lucien shook his head. “Perhaps I should have expected no
thing better from a council such as this one has become.”

  Chowdhury made a violent attempt to rise to his feet. The councillor next to him grabbed his sleeve and forced him back down into his seat.

  “And before you make any more claims about Effie’s involvement in this,” Lucien continued, reaching into the inside breast pocket of his dinner jacket, “perhaps what I have to show you next will open your eyes to the true nature of your proposed business partner.” He gave Bartholomew a dismissive glance.

  From his pocket, he drew out the folder of papers. He laid them out on the table around which Sonya’s clique were seated.

  “What’s this?” Sonya didn’t scowl precisely, but her dramatic eyebrows were slanted in a distinctly unhappy direction.

  “What I have here is evidence that this vampire has been conspiring to expose immortals for centuries. It proves that he was the original commissioner of the portraits.”

  Apollo slipped past Sebastian, Zaya at his side. He reached past to pick up one of the sheets.

  “What are we looking at?” He rumbled as the scanned the page.

  “This is a page from a diary we found in the vampire’s possession. It shows a list of portraits he either commissioned or controlled the artist Fra Amedeo to make. You will notice there in the margins is a place and a date. For those of you with long memories, you will know that this is the date of an important meeting held at the university of Padua, a meeting which many of you may have attended. It appears this vampire also made a point of attending.”

  Sonya snatched the page from Apollo and read it closely. With a scoff, she tossed it down on the table.

  “So? What of it? I do not see what this has to do with anything.”

  “Do you not?” Lucien raised a considering eyebrow at her. “Then perhaps you should look again. Why would the vampire make a point of attending this meeting if it was not to purposefully and clandestinely create images of immortals which he could later use for blackmail?”

  Harper prowled between the gilded chairs to study the letters. Sebastian watched, narrow eyed, as more and more councillors gathered around the table. Effie was being shunted until she was almost pressed against the mantlepiece, next to where Bartholomew had reclaimed his seat. His smug expression was gone now and a tightness had gathered around his eyes and lips.