The Vampires' Birthright

by Aiden James

  I lightly squeezed his tiny hand, and nodded for him to lead the way again, hoping he understood that the images around us wouldn’t harm him. He nodded gratefully, although his eyes still darted around to every hidden corner and shadow and his breaths came in shallow bursts.

  “He’s not the only one frightened. Are you sure you don’t want me to carry you to your bedchamber myself?” said Garvan, who flanked me on the left with his escort, who seemed unaffected by the garish scenery around her. Meanwhile, Garvan’s gorgeous eyes were on fire. At first, I mistook the deep longing emanating from them as the passionate attraction he and I shared, although never consummated, before my pregnancy. This was before I understood that my feelings toward them were largely a mix of pheromones and a subconscious longing that aids them in hunting their prey, you know―us humans. Knowing it didn’t mean I didn’t feel it anymore, I just recognized it now. Garvan though, he actually cared about me and I have come to feel like he is almost like a big brother to me, despite the knowledge that his desire is for a relationship that is a bit more romantic. “Just don’t frighten the boy any worse than he is right now, or we might end up in a room that lacks more than just heat and modern convenience.”

  Garvan’s emerald eyes flashed brighter for an instant, adding playfulness to a devilish grin. For a moment, I think he wanted me then and there—despite my sacred status that Chanson had already declared to everyone when we first boarded Racco’s jet a few hours before. She had made it clear she could already sense the tiny human growing inside me and that the Relance du sang had been successful. All physical contact with me beyond platonic was strictly off limits. But, as I wondered if this was what he struggled with, I noticed his gaze was focused on the same area that had fascinated Tyreen a short while earlier: my carotid artery.

  “I guess the blood flasks weren’t near enough for any of you, huh?”

  I’m sure this came out pretty harsh, and his mortified expression told me that he never expected this reaction from me. Warmth from my anger flushed my cheeks and I looked away, turning my attention toward the ceiling toward one particular dragon. Its fiery eyes glistened from inlaid jewels that in all likelihood were rubies. Rubies, I should say, at least the size of my hands, based on the ceiling’s twenty-foot height. The rest of the purple and gold serpent glistened, as well, and I marveled at the skilled artisanship that went into creating the image.

  “I’m truly sorry, Txema.” He tentatively touched my shoulder to get me to return my gaze to him. “I swear to you that I’d never hurt you or the sacred child you carry.”

  The look on his face seemed completely sincere. But honestly in the moment provided no assurance he wouldn’t drain my blood while I slept—even during the short siesta we had before our 3:00 a.m. date.

  “Maybe that’s true,” I said, slowing while we approached the marble stairs leading to the third floor.

  Our footsteps echoed eerily around us, giving the second floor a museum-like feel. Cold and sterile, the menacing teeth-bearing dragons made me think of the Tyrannosaurus skeletons I saw as a kid on a field trip to D.C.

  “But, I know for a fact that you have drunk from my neck more than once during the past two weeks!” I said, finding it harder to control the fury in my tone. “You can’t deny it!”

  “Yes, I have,” he finally said, softly, once we reached the stairs. The two children eyed us curiously, and I wondered if they understood any English. If not, Garvan’s and my body language along with his plaintive tone and my bitchiness were easily translatable. “Both times it was to save your life, and I never took more than what was necessary to knock you unconscious and out of harm’s way.”

  His face held a pained expression and his lips trembled. Emotions—real and human. That alone convinced me that he’d come clean, although that nagging voice in the back of my head reminded me how they had lied to me before about Peter being dead. Despite the cold in that drafty place, I felt warmth spread inside my chest, I had to trust someone, and Garvan above all others had been there when I needed him. I felt I could relax once more in his presence. Exhaustion beckoned me… I needed whatever sleep I could get before our meeting.

  Garvan noticed how tired I was. Without saying a word, he motioned for me to wrap my arm inside his as we followed our young guides up to the third floor. The décor was more modest. Other than the same marble pillars and archways, the ceiling and walls were barren of the imagery on the lower floors. Another glass wall faced the surrounding mountains barely illuminated by the dying moonlight.

  A draft of warm air greeted us. It took a moment to detect a pair of vents on either side of a marble arch not far from the room I would be sharing with Garvan and Chanson. Our young escorts seemed just as pleased by the warmer environment and hurried to lead us to the massive wooden door that marked the chamber’s entrance.

  “I do believe you are in luck, Txema,” said Garvan, while we waited for the little boy to insert a key into a rudimentary lock beneath the door’s handle. Meanwhile, the air around us continued to grow warmer. “It appears you will not turn blue or as pale as us after all!”

  Our little servant boy looked up at me, his dimpled smile almost matching Garvan’s. Apparently, he understood my vampire companion’s jest. I couldn’t help chuckling, despite a rash of chills brought on by the combination of Garvan’s cool presence and the warm air cascading toward me from the heater vents.

  “So, do you think Racco and his crew will join us here, and will they also be staying on the same floor as us?”

  I should’ve waited for a more appropriate time to ask this question. Garvan and Racco had verbally sparred with each other on several occasions about which of them was the fittest suitor for my affections. That was before my Relance du sang with Peter. Since then, I’d not seen Racco in person, and Garvan had ceased to eye me wantonly. Instead, he treated me like all of the other vampires had treated me since the ceremony: like a delicate and fragile treasure. God forbid that one of them should sneeze in my presence, lest I shatter and crumble to dust!

  Strict precautions were now in place to make sure nothing could cause a possible miscarriage. Even though consensual sex during a pregnancy was fine and dandy in the modern world, the rules were quite different for someone like me. Regardless, should the eventual horniness occur that I’d heard can be excruciating at times during a normal pregnancy, as things presently stood, I’d be left alone in terrible misery.

  Garvan’s countenance grew dark, and he glowered at me as if he’d hoped I would never broach the subject of Racco and his whereabouts. But rather than answer, he pushed the heavy door open and motioned for me to step inside. Not exactly the Four Seasons, but the room was a hell of a lot cozier than I expected to find after experiencing the icebox downstairs. The floor was polished gray marble―similar to the hallways and main level―and the walls were paneled in teak with less ostentatious renderings of dragons.

  The room was large, although not as immense as my recent quarters in le Chateau de Douleur. Yet, it was definitely large enough to not feel claustrophobic with two or three caskets sharing my space. A queen-sized bed faced a small television set added to the room well before the onset of the digital age. That was pretty much it as far as ‘modern’ conveniences, other than a small lamp and clock radio sitting on a nightstand next to the bed. But at least the room was warm and cozy, as more warm air poured into the chamber from two vents above the doorway and another above the bed.

  Great, this should be a hell of a lot of fun.

  While I was privately mourning the loss of my iPad, Garvan drew my attention to the bathroom, where a modern Jacuzzi tub and shower awaited me. The sink and commode were also fully modern, which made me wonder why our hosts hadn’t bothered to upgrade the meager entertainment options in the bedroom portion of my new home.

  “Cleanliness is next to Godliness!” Garvan’s impishness lifted his countenance back to the warmth he normally exudes. Even his eyes were aglow again, and I felt he mostly had fo
rgotten my mention of his immortal rival moments before. “Perhaps you’ll take up Zen while you’re here, and see that most of what you have paid attention to these past few years is largely empty, meaningless noise.”

  “Perhaps… but a bored mind and empty hands can be the instruments of the Devil, too.” I offered my own wry smile while alternating my disappointed gaze between the obsolete TV and the clock radio. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

  “About what?”

  “About Racco and his staff… when shall I expect their arrival?”

  His smile faded as he studied my face, no doubt torn as to what to tell me, given my hopeful expression.

  “Racco’s not coming, Txema. Right after we left the plane, he unloaded our luggage and our associates and he is already on his way back to France with his staff.”

  “But, I thought—”

  “You thought you could start where you left off three days ago, correct?” His tone remained gentle, but with enough force to emphasize his seriousness. “As if, like you, he’d be welcome here, in this cold place with even colder hosts?”

  He didn’t need to spell it out for me. I had wondered the same thing as Xuanxang addressed us, along with the obvious strictness in dealing with the young servants who all appeared to be fully human. How would a group of free and happy human beings be welcome in such a place?

  “So, I take it this was decided while we were still in the air?”

  I hadn’t seen anything conspire between Chanson or anyone else from the time we left India’s airspace and when we landed on the runway. The decision had to have been made earlier.

  “Yes… I heard Gustav and Racco discuss what needed to be done, right after we heard that so many of Huangtian Dadi’s vampire subjects had defected to Ralu’s… political platform,” he said. “It’s far too dangerous for his people to be here, since they can’t be offered the same protection as you.”

  “This really sucks!” I couldn’t believe Racco had abandoned me, and did so completely. We never got a chance to talk following the previous night’s ceremony, or even after our last awkward exchange before that event. “So, I’m the only human being here from the western world?”

  “At least for now.” His pained expression implied he had held out hope I wouldn’t miss Racco, and that I’d be content having only my vampire companions to interact with. “It’s still possible he’ll come back after you’ve given birth to your child and the current tensions throughout the world are lessened.”

  “Like a typical guy,” I said under my breath, for the moment forgetting the handsome male vampire before me, or the fact his preternatural ears could easily discern my whispered scorn. “Nobody wants to hang out with the knocked-up chick.”

  “That’s not true.” He leaned in closer and grasped my fingers with his hands. His touch was cool, although not as chilled as I expected. “I’ll be delighted to hang out with the ‘knocked-up chick’ anytime.”

  He chuckled and squeezed my fingers.

  “Yes, I’ll most certainly be delighted to do so, Txema!” he said, after I shook my head. His smile widened to the point his slender fangs showed. “No matter what happens, know that I will always be there for you. Always.”

  xema, it’s time for you to awaken.” Chanson’s voice dragged me out of a very deep slumber.

  She was staring at me with those intense green eyes that glowed behind her dark bangs. The only other light in the room came from other sets of eyes; blue, lavender, and four other green ones, which meant Armando, Raquel, Garvan and Tyreen were with her.

  “Where are we?” I was still groggy with sleep. “What’s going on?”

  “You have an appointment with the big bosses!” Armando said, moving in closer to where I could see more than his eyes. “You’ll have to get your beauty sleep later! Chop-chop!”

  “Why is it so dark in here?”

  I forced myself to sit up in my bed. My head throbbed, and I wasn’t sure if it was from lack of sleep or some fragmented and unremembered nightmare I had awakened from.

  “Oh, come on, damn it—Txema ain’t like us. She can’t see worth shit without a light on!” said Tyreen. Clothing rustled near my bedchamber door, and then soft yellow light filled the room from the lone overhead lamp. “There, that’s gotta be better, right?”

  I blinked and squinted. Yes. Much.

  They all stood around my bed, my team of protectors. Only at the moment, they seemed more like impish tormentors, as all five wore Cheshire smiles. All had changed their wardrobe, and most favored the hard-rockin’ Gothic look I had witnessed on several previous occasions, as if they wanted to ensure our Chinese hosts took them seriously as creatures of the night. More likely, though, I suppose it felt more comfortable, and nothing beyond that. Being ‘comfortable’ seemed especially true for Raquel who wore a white silk cheongsam covered with cherry blossoms.

  Chanson held out a dark green cheongsam for me as well. Perhaps the traditional attire was intended to demonstrate my appreciation and, I don’t know, subservient status to the Chinese emperor. Were I not so tired I would have been grumpy.

  “Does she even have time to change?” Armando pointed to the clock radio. “We have less than six minutes before the meeting starts, promptly at three o’clock!”

  “That gives us just enough time… provided Txema fully cooperates and doesn’t squawk about having to wear sandaled heels to go with her dress,” said Chanson. As she had the previous night on the plane, she silenced my additional questions with her forefinger. “Hold those thoughts, my dear, or we will be late!”

  Really, I was more concerned with how cold it would be outside the toasty comfort of my bedchamber. Knowing we would have to travel through the frigid main floor in order to reach the meeting place wasn’t exactly something to get excited about.

  Chanson motioned for me to stand once my shoes were on, and Garvan brought me the jacket I wore earlier. I zipped it up tight. If nothing else, it doubled the protection around my neck, since the cheongsam’s neckline came up past my birthmark. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about a room full of vampires lusting after my exposed throat.

  “Wrap your arms around my waist, cousin, and we’ll be on our way!”

  She didn’t feel near as cold as she had earlier, and looked flushed. She had finally fed. While my thoughts about the logistics of opening the heavy bedchamber door and then navigating the hallway and stairs were still in their infancy, my surroundings became a blur. I was briefly aware of my door opening and an abrasive draft of chilly air that steadily grew colder.

  Once downstairs, we raced through the main floor’s long corridor, accelerating until everything became unrecognizable. I caught the occasional landmark glimpse of marble pillars, granite walls, and the fleeting face of an Asian child as we sped through the building.

  The air grew incredibly cold, but only for a moment as we went outside, and then the air warmed again as we passed through an immense archway and into a massive building that contained some kind of greeting hall. It was bright enough in here that I had to squint, but I heard the susurration of a lot of voices. As my eyes adjusted, I saw that we were inside a grand hall and with us were dozens, if not a hundred others. Vampires, mostly European but some of our Chinese hosts were among the number as well.

  “We’re here!” Chanson announced. My head ached for a moment, and it took a valiant effort to keep my stomach’s contents from pouring out of my mouth.

  “And, look, we are indeed the last ones to arrive, with, hmmm… maybe thirty seconds to find a seat before this little convention begins!” Armando spoke through a grin, but shot an irritated look at Chanson.

  She did her best to ignore him, but her grip on my hand tightened as she led us into the throng. His little barb angered her.

  “It appears we’ll be standing after all,” said Garvan, hustling through the crowd to catch up to us.

  He was right; I didn’t see any open chairs before us, but it hardly mattered. This
was by far the most ostentatious area I’d seen in the palace. My companions agreed, as I heard several polite murmurs of ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ among them. Raquel and Tyreen wore childlike expressions of wonder as they sought to move up closer to the immense gilded stage where two heavily jeweled thrones sat unattended.

  Like everywhere else in the palace thus far, there were dragons―both in sculptures and paintings. In this case, the detailed reptiles were adorned in gold and the eyes were made up of different colored jewels the size of my thumb. They covered the walls and several of the fountain sculptures throughout the great hall. The twisting body of one enormous dragon loomed above the pair of thrones. Other than that, the marble columns, inlaid floors, and walls were the same as the main building’s first level—only on a grander scale of artisanship.

  Meanwhile, the multitude in attendance watched me. Most were familiar; I recognized them from le Chateau de Douleur. Unlike those happier times for them, when every night was like a Mardi Gras celebration and they were glad to see me, they now regarded me warily. Many of them seemed to be shell-shocked. Chanson had explained to me that change was not something that came easily to the immortals, and to have it thrust upon them was very uncomfortable. She assured me that it wouldn’t last and that I would just have to be patient with them.

  What surprised me the most―and here as well―were the glares of outright hostility that met us, more specifically me, from some of the Europeans. As if it was my fault that the party came screeching to a halt?

  I guess it didn’t matter that they would be partying on borrowed time, since my bloodline was the only thing preventing them from becoming monstrous Chupacabras. In a matter of time, they’d all be the same—which is Ralu’s goal. They wouldn’t have to worry about receiving refuge invitations from their Chinese brethren.