Deamhan Chronicles, Books 1-5: Deamhan, Kei. Family Matters, Dark Curse, Maris. The Brotherhood Files, Ayden. Deamhan Minion

by Isaiyan Morrison

  Hanging above the computer was an old oil painting of a man in chain mail armor and a helmet. His deep, dark brown eyes beamed at her. His brown hair fell gracefully over his shoulders. He sat in a chair decorated with jewels and small carved statues of dragons. She stood up from the couch and slowly walked over to the glass window. Below, the club seemed alive with movement. The thick and insulated glass kept out the music, yet it thumped to every sound of bass.

  “Veronica Austin.” A voice called out behind her.

  She turned around facing the man behind the voice. He shifted his fingers through his thick brown hair. He wore a black turtleneck shirt with black pants. The candlelight tricked her eyes, and she observed his irises changing from brown to hazel. His prominent jaw line and his pointed nose completed his smooth and seemingly ageless face. Her eyes shifted to the portrait, then back to him. It was him but from a different time period. The picture didn’t do his guise any justice.

  “It’s a one-way mirror,” the male announced. “Don’t worry. No one can see you up here.”

  She looked back at the mirror. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

  “Depends,” the male replied. “I’m Lambert.” He bowed his head slightly. In his hand, he held a chalice similar to Alexis’. “That picture is of my other life. Not the best portrait of me, but I prize it nonetheless.” He walked over to the couch. “Are the grapes good?”

  “They’re good. Thanks.”

  “Well, I thought about getting more for my human guests.” He studied her stiff and rigid posture. He lowered himself on the couch. “I still remember what good grapes tasted like.” He sniffed the bowl. “Not that it’d do me any good anyway, right?”

  She pulled out the invitation from her pocket. “Is this a trick?” She tossed it to him.

  “No.” He caught the note and placed it in his pocket. “I sent it to you for a reason.”

  “I’m here.” She walked over to the couch.

  His face crinkled, and a wide smile appeared. “That you are.”

  “So, you’re a vampire.”

  “Yes.” He crossed his legs. “I thought you were aware of this.”

  “Alexis’ actions confirmed it for me.”

  “Ahh, Alexis.” Lambert tilted his head to the ceiling. “My little darling. My soul mate. You know, she was my minion before I turned her. You do know what a minion is?”

  She nodded, aware of the generic term. “Minions are human servants who are owned by a Deamhan. But you’re not a Deamhan, you’re a vampire.”

  “True, but I couldn’t pass up the need for a minion of my own.”

  What The Brotherhood knew of minions Sean passed onto Veronica. She knew them to be extremely dangerous but very useful to the Deamhan. Like servants, they did whatever their Deamhan owners wanted them to do. They ran errands, watched other minions, and kept tabs on researchers in the city. Some went as far as killing for their owners with the promise of being sired after years of loyal service. Their numbers increased in recent years due to the overwhelming popularization of the vampire in American culture. They jumped at the chance at becoming immortal, even if it meant killing other humans.

  “I think their Dictum prohibited human servants unless it was necessary for the survival of their species.”

  “I’m a vampire. I don’t care for their Dictum.” He waved at her reply. “And apparently, they don’t either. Please sit.”

  She hesitantly lowered herself on the couch across from him.

  “I love the term ‘minion.’ I wouldn’t call her that to her face; she’d stake me.” He smiled devilishly. “But enough about my darling; what about you, researcher?”

  “I’m not a researcher. I’ve attempted to make that clear.”

  “Not everyone thinks so. You successfully hid your thoughts from Remy. A human not affiliated with The Brotherhood is able to do that. And you came here armed with a stake.”

  “It was for my own protection.”

  “What if you miss the heart of a Deamhan? Do you trust your aim researcher?”

  “You know I don’t have to aim for their heart to incapacitate them but as for a vampire . . .”

  He stared at her and tilted his head slightly. “Something you learned from that obstructive organization you claim you aren’t a part of?” He pushed the bowl of grapes toward her. “Did they teach you how to lie as well?”

  “I’m not lying,” she replied in a raised voice. He pushed her into a position that she didn’t want to be in. Instead of interviewing him, he was interrogating her.

  “Yet you know things that most humans don’t know.” He stood to his feet and walked over to the black curtain.

  Before he pulled the tassel back, Veronica said in a shaky voice, “P-please. . .”

  He smiled innocently. “Please?”

  “Do you have to do that now?”

  “Do what?”

  “Eat.”

  He dropped the tassel. “No, I guess not.” He paced back to the couch. “I’m sorry about Alexis. Dealing with the Deamhan daily is making her cranky.” He sat on the couch. “As you know, they’re a rough bunch.”

  “Like vampires.”

  “Yes, like vampires.” He huffed and smiled. “I own Dark Sepulcher. I cater to the Deamhan and vampires alike. It makes my venue more—how can I say—appreciated? I don’t discriminate. Everyone’s money is green to me, even yours.”

  Veronica gazed into his empty and soulless eyes. “But I didn’t come here for that.”

  “So why did you come here in the first place?”

  She opened her mouth, but she found herself speechless. This is it, she thought. Now or never. She didn’t lose sight of him and she watched him rub his hands together, feeling his rugged stare while he waited for her explanation.

  “Curious about our kind?” he suggested.

  “No, not even close.”

  “You were probing my venue,” he affirmed.

  “I wasn’t.” She paused. Yes, I was, she thought briefly, before relaxing her thoughts then suddenly realized there was no need to hide them. Vampires were incapable of reading minds but they could persuade a human to do what they wanted. Plus they were excellent at deciphering body language.

  She continued. “This is the only place in Minneapolis that vampires and Deamhan socialize.”

  “And the only place in Minneapolis that has two for ones for only a dollar and fifty cents.” His gaze didn’t quiver. “Oh c’mon, researcher, you have to do better than that.”

  “Like I’ve said before, I’m not a researcher.”

  “Then why are you here?” His voice rose, and he leaned forward. “And who sent you here?” His voice shook her and she slightly jumped back.

  She gathered her wits. “I have a couple of questions to ask you, Lambert.”

  “I ask the questions, researcher.”

  “Would you stop calling me that?!” Her voice screeched. No way would she tell him about Sean and her father. They were irrelevant. But she was curious about how much he really knew about her.

  He was losing his patience. His eyes narrowed and she caught a glimpse of his fangs that had now dropped.

  She took a deep breath. “I’m looking for someone important to me.”

  “Well.” He leaned back. “That’s all you had to say.”

  “I’m looking for my mother. Her name is Caroline Austin.”

  “Are you?” He placed his arms on the back of the couch.

  “My mother and my father worked for The Brotherhood, and the Minnesota Chapter that disbanded right after she disappeared.” She waited for his response, but he remained quiet. “I’m just trying to find out what happened to her.”

  “Your parents were researchers?”

  Veronica nodded.

  “And you’re not.” He slowed his speech, emphasizing each word that came from his mouth.

  “I was raised in The Brotherhood because of my parents,” she said slowly. “But I didn’t follow i
n their footsteps. I’m here on my own.”

  He smiled. “Ah, now we’re getting somewhere, my curious sleuth.” He clapped his hands, and she jumped at his odd behavior. “You’re here to find your researcher mother.”

  She sighed in relief. She could move on from defending herself to learning about her mother’s disappearance, or so she thought.

  “You say you’re not from The Brotherhood, you’re not a researcher, and we all know you’re not a minion. This just makes you a nosy human who knows too much.”

  “Look.” She slammed her hands on the glass table. She immediately regretted her outburst, and she lifted her hands and sat back. For the first time, she wished vampires could read her thoughts. “Do you know anything about my mother?”

  “Sassy.” He grinned. “I like it. Have another grape, my dear.” He pushed the bowl of grapes to her.

  Her body grew stiff, and her hands were tightly curled into fists. “Do you know her?”

  His eyes scanned her, again making her feel uncomfortable. “Your heartbeat is fast. I can smell your sweat. Are you angry?”

  “What?” Dumbfounded, Veronica shook her head.

  “Alexis was right. You smell so sweet, like cotton candy.” He smiled and this time his fangs showed. “Please, eat.”

  “I’m not hungry,” she replied. “Please, do you know anything?”

  He exhaled. “As you might already know, The Brotherhood hasn’t been in Minneapolis for decades, so I doubt your mother is lurking around. If she was, it would’ve made vampire headlines a while ago.”

  There was something unique about him, which she couldn’t figure out. His face held a smirk only noticeable when she looked into his eyes. His witty and quick comments. He was a thinker, and from the prosperity of Dark Sepulcher, she surmised that he was also a good businessman. She couldn’t believe he didn’t know anything about her mother. The Deamhan and vampires knew all researchers in their cities. She suppressed her doubts and began to explain.

  “I’m not here to interrupt your lifestyle. I don’t like coming to Dark Sepulcher as much as your customers don’t like seeing me here. I know this place was here when The Brotherhood was here. I also know that you’re the type of person who knows everything that occurs in Minneapolis.”

  “Never heard of her.” He smirked. “But I do remember when the researchers left.” He placed his right elbow on the edge of the couch, in a comfortable position to think. “You come here in need of answers . . . why don’t you ask The Brotherhood?”

  His attack made her a little hesitant to reply.

  “They didn’t tell you, or they won’t tell you?” He moved his head to the left and rubbed his chin.

  Veronica lowered her eyes to the floor. “They won’t tell me.”

  “Interesting.” Lambert nodded. “And your father?”

  “We aren’t on speaking terms.”

  “Your father is still a member?”

  “This is not about my father. This is about my mother.”

  “Answer the damn question!” Lambert jumped to his feet at breakneck speed. He loomed over her, his eyes dilated and his mouth opened. Veronica couldn’t help notice that his sharp canines extended further than even the Ramanga twins.

  She gripped the side of the couch, taken back. The couch’s springs dug into her rear. “Yes, yes, he’s still a member.”

  He stepped back and closed his mouth. His fangs retreated and he straightened his shirt. “Excuse me. Sometimes I do get carried away. But a daughter at odds with her father. How cliché.” He drummed his fingers together. “And what would your father think of his daughter associating with vampires?”

  “I think I made a mistake coming here.” She disregarded his question. “It’s obvious you don’t know what happened.” She stood up from the couch and turned to walk to the door when Lambert opened his mouth to speak.

  “Your father is the president of the Midwest Division.”

  His words stopped her in her tracks. She turned and watched him stand. She expected him to lash out, to bite her and suck every ounce of blood from her body just in time for Alexis to appear at the door and finish her off. Instead he stood, watching her. This revealed piece of information turned his smirk into a defined smile, and she felt a need to defend herself.

  “I know how it sounds.”

  He raised his hand to interrupt. “I do admire your courage to waltz into my venue and start digging for info, but I suggest you question your father about such matters.”

  “I can’t.”

  “I suggest you find a way.”

  “I wouldn’t be here if there was another way.”

  “There is always another way.” He approached her. “You don’t know the resources your father has at his disposal.” He threw his head back in an earsplitting laughter, which caught her off guard. “My dear, you really don’t know much, do you?”

  She folded her arms in displeasure. “Apparently I don’t,” she said in a monotone voice, “so why don’t you tell me?”

  He reached out his hand to touch her cheek and she moved back. “Humans are so cocky, so authoritative these days.” He lowered his hand. “And so clueless.” His eyes attenuated themselves on her. “You’d make a great vampire. I can see you committing many talented atrocities.”

  “I don’t have a desire to become a vampire.”

  “A moment alone with me and I’ll have you begging me to be your maker.”

  “No thank you.” She held her ground, refusing to show any signs of fear. Vampires craved it. So did Deamhan. “Are you just gonna’ keep on trying to scare me or are you going to tell me what you know?”

  His lips stretched into a wide grin. “Sure.” He sighed, releasing the last of his laughter. “Have you heard of a Deamhan by the name of Lucius?”

  The name didn’t sound familiar to her.

  “He was the oldest living Lugat in Minneapolis during the time your parents were in the city. He kept order and made sure that all Deamhan followed the Dictum. He disappeared around the time the Chapter left. Most Deamhan believe he was murdered by his consort, Kei.” His eyes began to dance in excitement while he continued the story. “And many Deamhan believe The Brotherhood was involved. His consort is now the most hated and dangerous Deamhan in the city.”

  Sean didn’t mention anything about Lucius and Kei to her and the documents he provided her didn’t mention him at all. Her eyes lit up to the new information, but she didn’t know what they meant in regards to her mother’s disappearance.

  “How do I know you’re just not making this up?” She questioned him.

  “You don’t.” He held out his hands in front of him as if he waited for her to embrace him. “But if I’m lying, strike me down.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Is this Kei person still in Minneapolis?”

  “That bastard has never left.” He rolled his eyes in disgust. “Can’t blame him. Can you imagine your reputation if you killed your all powerful sire? Lucius wasn’t any Deamhan; he’s one of the oldest on this continent. He was an Ancient. He was respected.”

  An Ancient? Ancients didn’t live in Minneapolis. Why would they? She continued her questioning. “Why would they believe The Brotherhood had anything to do with it?”

  Lambert gave her a look of suspicion. “Are you defending them?”

  She quickly replied no. She couldn’t defend an organization that didn’t explain why they left the city without her mother, an organization that claimed to know nothing. Now she knew why things became unstable when they left. It didn’t match the story her father and Sean told her. They didn’t leave because the Deamhan were out of control. They left because they had involved themselves in the Deamhan’s personal affairs.

  “Lucius was no ordinary Deamhan. He ruled with an iron fist and he kept other Deamhan in line. No Deamhan and vampire were strong enough to take him out.” Lambert paused. “But a Deamhan with the backing of The Brotherhood . . .”

  “So you’re telling me that my fath
er worked with Kei to kill Lucius?”

  “Your father’s organization placed that lunatic on a pedestal.” He sneered. “Why? No one knows. Now Kei summons his Gatherings for the riff raff who slither from their dens. He kills any Deamhan, vampire, or human who stands in his way. He burns sanctuaries for his own pleasure. He’s violent and uncontrollable.” He paused. “Don’t get me wrong, I like a little violence in my life, but they’re creating unwanted attention and that’s the last thing we vampires and Deamhan need from the humans.”

  Veronica found his descriptions of Kei antipathetic and full of distaste. He hated him more than he hated her being inside Dark Sepulcher. “What kind of benefit would The Brotherhood get for helping Kei?”

  He shrugged. “Again, that’s a question you should ask your father. What I do know is that Lucius is gone and Kei rules in his place.”

  She didn’t know if Lucius or Kei had anything to do with her mother’s disappearance, but it had to be of some importance if Lambert was telling her. What he told her didn’t seem far from the truth and if what he said was true (and she trusted him as much as she trusted her father), it exposed a level of The Brotherhood her father purposely hid from her.

  She whispered, “So where can I find Kei?”

  “You don’t want to find him,” Lambert said. “Believe me, human. You don’t.”

  A rush of unwanted adrenaline pumped through her, increasing with anger toward her father. She wanted Lambert to tell her more. “I’m not leaving Minneapolis until I know what happened to my mother and if I have to find Kei to get answers, then I have to look for him.”

  He shook his head. “Stubborn, human.” His eyes drifted from amusement to annoyance. “You wouldn’t survive another week looking for Kei. Your protection status won’t help you.”

  Protected. It was the second time she’d heard that word. She didn’t know exactly what it meant.

  She heard a loud grumble echo from his stomach.