Blood Craving

by Gabrielle Bisset

“Please come in and sit down. I can get my secretary to bring us something to drink, if you’d like.”

  Consera waved off his polite gesture as he pushed him out of the way to sit down behind his desk. “No need. We have business to attend to. Lucinda, this is Marc Verrater. Marc, this is the representative from the European witches.”

  Marc worked to shake off the fog of Bliss and shook her hand. Cold and almost scaly, it felt more like an animal paw than a woman’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “The magistrate has made me feel very welcome here at your headquarters. It’s been wonderful to meet all of your kind tonight. Are you a magistrate also?”

  Before he could answer, Consera did it for him. “No. Marc is merely an Archon.”

  Merely an Archon. As if achieving that level of power in the vampire world meant nothing. The magistrate certainly had no qualms about insulting his underlings, as he so often liked to refer to Marc and his kind.

  The witch now looked at Marc as if he was something unworthy of her time, and all those reasons why vampires hated her kind rolled through his head. But he had to pretend to be civil, at least.

  “So what can I do for the two of you tonight?” he asked with the most pleasant smile he could fake.

  Consera leaned back in Marc’s office chair and tapped his fingers on his desk. “I’ve been telling Lucinda what we will want from her group if this issue with the Sons comes to pass.”

  Speaking without thinking, Marc said, “Oh, it will come. The Sons of Navarus have no sense of how overpowered they are, so they’re going to force this. Mark my words.”

  “If they’re so weak, what do you need my kind’s help for then? We certainly bring unique abilities to the fight, especially concerning the weres, but it sounds like you will have no problem defeating your own kind,” Lucinda said.

  Instantly, Marc saw his off-the-cuff comment meant more as bragging than fact had made Consera’s position with the witch worse instead of better. The nasty look in his superior’s eyes as he glared at him made sure he understood that his outburst hadn’t been appreciated.

  The magistrate smiled in that way Marc knew indicated inside he was furious but there would be no way he’d show that emotion. “The Sons of Navarus have allies of their own. We will need ours.”

  “Allies? Who will they have on their side?” she asked.

  “Werewolves. I know they have pledged their allegiance,” Marc answered, hoping his showing knowledge of the situation might make up for his earlier misstep.

  The magistrate nodded, but Marc saw there was something more. Something new had developed, which necessitated having the witches on their side.

  “We have ways of handling werewolves,” Lucinda said with pride. “They’ll be no problem for us. They’re quite susceptible to our powers. Just a few well-chosen spells will make their power practically non-existent.”

  “I’ve received word that the Sons of Navarus will have additional allies on their side.”

  His words echoed off the white walls of Marc’s office, making his statement even more ominous. Lucinda appeared unimpressed, though, and laughed something like a cackle. “Faeries? Other minor magical creatures? We can handle them.”

  Consera smiled. “No, unfortunately, it’s far more serious than that. I have been informed that their new allies are dragons.”

  A hush fell over the room at the mention of the mythical creatures that made it their policy to keep to themselves. No fight between supernatural beings had involved dragons for hundreds of years. Marc had never even seen one in person, and he’d often wondered if they were simply the product of active imaginations or fancy dreams of ancient vampires who claimed to have seen everything under the sun.

  “Dragons? There haven’t been dragons for centuries, Magistrate Consera. My kind last dealt with them in the Middle Ages. It has been long believed they don’t exist anymore.”

  “They do and in the shape of five dragon shifter brothers who live in the east. And now they’ve agreed to fight on the side of the Sons of Navarus, so we will have to have some power to counteract their abilities.”

  “What kind of dragons are they?” she asked. “Fire? Water? There are various kinds and each requires a different way of dealing with them.”

  Marc sat there listening to them discuss dragons and couldn’t believe his ears. Various kinds of dragons? Didn’t they all just breathe fire and incinerate everything around them?

  “I’m told these dragons are all kinds. Fire, air, water, and earth. They are elemental beings, so we will need your kind to counteract their powers.”

  Lucinda straightened in her chair and Marc knew she was as stunned as he was at this development. “Elemental powers are far more than just a band of smelly wolves we can control with some simple lunar spells, Magistrate Consera. The European coven hasn’t encountered those kinds of forces in a long time.”

  “Then I guess you better get back home and get started on figuring out how to not only deal with these dragons but how to stop them.”

  Consera didn’t seem overly alarmed about the newest allies of the Sons, but Marc sensed in his tone that this wasn’t anything to trifle with. Lucinda understood it too.

  She stood to leave and unlike when she’d arrived just a few minutes before, none of the niceties of manners were evident. “I will do that. When I know something, I’ll be in contact. I will say this. Starting this war of yours before we’re ready to meet the dragons is not something I’d advise.”

  Nodding his agreement with her assessment of the situation, he stood from behind Marc’s desk and joined her. “I think we may need more than your coven behind us. How goes it with the Americans?”

  Lucinda frowned and shook her head. “They still won’t agree. You know Americans. They always have to go their own way. I’ll still work on their leader. I think when she hears about dragons being involved she’ll come around.”

  “Good. Good. I hope to hear good news soon on that front too. For now, let me escort you out.”

  They left Marc without speaking another word to him. When his office door closed behind the magistrate, he tried to get his brain around all that he’d just heard. Vampires and witches had decided to align themselves against fellow vampires. The Sons had not only werewolves on their side but dragons too. When the hell had dragons come into the picture?

  As he pondered these ideas, he came onto another, more interesting one. How did Consera know all of this? Marc had always known he had spies everywhere, but in the Order of Macaria too?

  “You look shell-shocked, Marc. Was that your first time meeting a witch?” Consera asked as he sat back down behind his desk.

  Taking a deep breath in, the Archon let the air out of his lungs slowly, trying to get a handle on everything. “No, I’ve met one once before. Drained her dry too.”

  “That sounds perfectly disgusting, Marc.”

  “Don’t you like them? You seemed quite cozy with Lucinda.”

  The magistrate twisted his face into an expression of pure distaste. “They make me sick to my stomach. Witches. We’re traditional enemies for a reason. We revel in the body and the blood, whereas they can never get past needing to manipulate everything around them. It didn’t always used to be this way, though. When I was made a vampire, witches weren’t like this.”

  Intrigued, Marc wanted to hear more. “Really? I thought they’d been like this forever.”

  “No. Back in ancient times, they healed and respected the earth and all that came with it. When they claimed they were one with it, it was true. But somewhere along the way, that belief became twisted and hurtful, and now they’re just good to control a situation like we have on our hands. All except the Americans, it seems. That’s likely why Lucinda and her coven can’t convince them to join us. It’s a matter of ideological differences.”

  While Marc didn’t voice the idea that popped into his mind, he couldn’t help but compare the two covens with the Archons and the Sons. Vampires every single one, wha
t divided them was what they believed their world ought to be. Archons wanted a world of order and discipline led by vampires who understood their nature. The Sons wanted a world of freedom, but history had shown vampires, like humans, did poorly with freedom. They made poor choices, and those would lead to the end of the vampire world if the Archons didn’t have their way.

  “Did you hear what I said? Christ, Marc, I swear you’ve got the attention span of a gnat. Have you been dipping into the stores of Bliss again?”

  Flustered at hearing Consera so angry with him, Marc quickly shook himself out of his thoughts. “I’m sorry. I was thinking about something. What did you say?”

  Rolling his eyes, the magistrate stood from behind the desk and walked over to stand next to Marc. Clapping him hard on the shoulder, he said in a low voice, “You better not be stealing the Bliss again. I need you clearheaded, not a goddamn drugged up mess. We’re getting close to when everything will happen, and having you less than one hundred percent would make me very unhappy. Do you understand what I’m saying to you, Marc?”

  He looked up into his dark eyes and saw anger. Making a magistrate angry was never a good thing. Marc may have had power as an Archon, but he understood his place in the vampire power structure, and magistrates, no matter who they were, always reigned over his level. Magistrate Consera might appear cool and calm to the outside world, but the rage flashing in his eyes told Marc he needed to get back in his good graces before he became just another out of favor vampire praying not to be staked.

  “I understand perfectly, sir. I’m completely cured of any desire to have Bliss. You have my word on it.”

  For a moment, he studied the Archon, as if to establish the truth of what he’d said. In fact, Marc knew if he tasted his blood at that moment, he’d find out just how addicted he still was to the drug. Consera’s visit had taken some of the edge off his high, but the Bliss still traveled through his bloodstream as he held his breath hoping the magistrate believed his lie.

  “We’re very close to releasing the first worldwide shipment of that wonderful substance you helped develop. It’s been a wonderful success on the continent so far. I’d hate to see my lead man on that suddenly fall from grace.”

  Every word he spoke terrified Marc and for good reason. He’d seen other Archons fall from grace, as Consera termed it, and they’d never been seen again. He wasn’t sure what had happened to them. Perhaps they’d been staked outright. Or even worse, they may have been sent to some far off region of the world to lord over local vampires as a less important Archon.

  Just the thought of being sent to some godawful place and having to deal with the trivial nonsense of overseeing ordinary vampires terrified him. He was better than that. He was a fucking Archon assigned to the world headquarters, not some lower level functionary meant to dole out punishments to common vampires for petty theft, poaching, or other nonsense. He hadn’t worked all those years to reach this position just to be toppled from his well-earned perch by a capricious magistrate who couldn’t see how much he offered.

  But even though he believed that with all his heart, he couldn’t show his opinions about Consera or staking would be the best he could look forward to. So he did as he had every step of the way to this office.

  He played the sycophant like no one else could, all the while planning for when he’d make his move to something bigger and better. Consera was powerful, but he certainly wasn’t the only powerful magistrate. All Marc had to do was bide his time.

  “Sit. I want to talk to you about history. I’m a student of history and appreciate its lessons tremendously. Do you know any history, Marc?”

  As he sat back down in his chair and watched the magistrate begin to walk around the room, he answered, “Sure. What part?”

  “Do you remember what you learned in school about the Opium Wars?”

  “Between the British and Chinese. Yeah.”

  “You weren’t around for that, so let me tell you how it really happened. Yes, the British government wanted the Chinese people addicted to opium and the Chinese government saw too late how bad the drug was for its population. But there’s something the history books never tell us. They make it seem like one day opium just showed up and then the next the people were addicted to it. It took much more effort than that.”

  “Really?” Marc asked, unsure where this history lecture was going. He’d never put much thought into how the people became addicted. Just that they did and then the governments of both countries acted.

  Consera stopped in front of him and smiled wickedly. “Really. No matter how good the drug is, addiction rarely happens overnight. Opium costs money, and the Chinese people didn’t have it to pay for what they wanted. The British certainly gave away a good deal of opium to facilitate that addiction, but they also used force. We will need to use force just as they did to get vampires addicted to our Bliss.”

  “I don’t think so, sir. Trust me. A vampire becomes addicted as soon as they try it. You won’t need to force anyone after the first time.”

  The magistrate stroked his chin as he considered Marc’s opinion. “I have heard it’s quite addictive. I had one of my vampires try it, and the last I heard about her she was lost in its effects in some den in Prague. But my instincts tell me while the continent fell nicely, the rest of the world won’t be so easy.”

  “Once they get a taste of our Bliss, they’ll be putty in our hands, sir. It’s that good,” Marc bragged, knowing all too well how addictive his miracle drug was.

  “All the same, I believe I’m going to send troops out, especially to the Americas. Something tells me those vampires have had far too much freedom for far too long and may not fall in line as easily as we’d like. Better to be safe than sorry.”

  “Troops? I didn’t realize we had troops.”

  “Hades’ daemons. Not troops in the usual sense, but they’ll do the job we need them to do.”

  Consera patted Marc on the shoulder as he walked out of his office, and as he stood there trying to get a grasp on all he’d heard that night, Marc had a sense the magistrate had created something much bigger than anyone was expecting if Hades’ daemons were involved. The mere thought of them sent shivers down his spine.

  Pushing that out of his mind, he felt his craving for Bliss press down on him. Just talking about it made him want more. The magistrate was worrying about nothing. Once those Americans got a taste of the drug, they’d be lost to it just like European vampires were.

  And no amount of freedom they enjoyed would make any bit of difference.

  Nineteen

  Nearly a month had gone by with no improvement at all in Sion’s condition. The burns on his forearms told Kali he snuck out of the apartment when she fell asleep each day, and every night as he lay there in a Bliss induced dream-state, she gently cleaned his wounds and wished she knew how to stop him from slowly killing himself. Gone were the violent outbursts and rage. Now all he’d become was a Bliss zombie.

  She’d thought about telling the Sons about what had happened at least a hundred times, but she couldn’t do that to him. That would humiliate him, and she wouldn’t do that. Even if she knew they would be able to bring him out of this.

  As she watched him thrash around in his delirium and then fade back into silent sleep, she wondered if she was just being selfish. One call to Nico and Sion would be whisked away to Greece for help. They may not have had an antidote to Bliss yet, but the Sons would get him out of this addiction.

  That was the problem, though. He’d be taken away from her, and all she’d be left with would be the guilt of knowing she was the one who did this to him. Tears welled in her eyes at the sight of the man she loved now a physical and emotional mess because of her. Always lean, Sion now looked almost skeletal under his clothes. They hung off him, making him look frail and breakable.

  Even worse than how he looked was how he acted. When he opened his eyes and looked at her anymore, she never saw a look of sharpness or even recognition. Those
beautiful grey eyes now looked only hazy and lost from the Bliss taking over.

  “Sion, please wake up for me,” she said quietly as she began the ritual between them as she did every night.

  He opened his eyes and the look he gave her chilled her to the bone. His eyes had no sparkle in them. Just flatness from hours of being lost in the fog of the drug. She wasn’t even sure he knew who sat with him there night after night.

  “Listen to me, Sion. I need you to focus. We have to work on the prophecy tonight. Do you know what I mean by the prophecy?”

  Shaking his head, he opened his mouth but no words came out. Slowly, his eyes fluttered closed again, and Kali shook him by the shoulder to wake up. Every night this went on for hours, but she couldn’t continue ignoring her duty to decipher the meaning of the Prophecy of Idolas, no matter how much she loved Sion.

  “I can’t do this anymore,” she sobbed as the tears came like they did every night. “I can’t. I never meant for you to become this. I’m so sorry, Sion. Please just open your eyes and tell me you know it’s me here with you. Just say those words so I can believe that you’re not going to be lost to this drug. Just say those words, Sion!”

  His eyes remained closed, but he gently squeezed her fingers in his hand. He was still in there somewhere. The rational, logical man she’d fallen in love with still existed deep inside him.

  Kali bent over him and kissed his cold lips, hating how the Bliss had sapped him of nearly everything. “I know you hear me. I know it. I’m close to figuring out something very important with the prophecy, Sion, but I can’t leave you like this. Give me a sign that you understand.”

  As she waited, desperate for something she could cling to, his eyes gradually opened and she saw their beautiful grey color through the haze that covered them. The corners of his mouth crept up slowly until she saw a real smile from him, the first one she’d seen in days.

  “I love you, Kali. I need you to know that.”

  His words had an unfamiliar sound to them. Sion had never been one to be emotional, but now he sounded unlike himself. His tone was gentle and sweet, and even though Kali knew it was the Bliss making him say those words, she wanted to believe he felt that way for her.