by Nix, Imogene
The dreams that came in the night showed her pictures and stories. They always had. They always brought with them answers. For as long as she could remember, Cressida had treated her with care and attention, just as she would a spun glass creation. She had dreamed of Cressida, sometimes scary things and sometimes of the olden days she had loved to read about when she was younger. But there had always been blood too. This time there had been lots of blood. A red tide of death.
It had been a red winding ribbon, reminiscent of the peaceful stream at the back of the manor where she lived with friends and family. Thoughts of her parents and brother swam through her head. Where were they? Were they okay? Would she ever see them again?
Hope brushed her hair from her face and yawned once more, pulling her clothing tighter. The throb of her bladder reminded her she had been there for a long time. Surely they would come for her soon? Daylight couldn’t be too far away surely. If only she could have told Cressida beforehand that this would happen. But her dreams hadn’t come in a way she could understand.
She started at a crash above her head. She concentrated hard. Pushing aside the cobwebs of slumber that seemed to keep pulling at her—she was, after all, twelve, and old enough to be able to stay awake through the night—she listened closely.
Growling and roaring thundered through the house, and Hope once more curled into a ball. This time the fear she had fought washed over her as she squeezed her hands over her ears, trying to keep out the wild sounds from above. Unsuccessfully. Heaven and stars help her if it was another nest coming for her.
Hope looked wildly around seeking something that she could use as a weapon if they came for her, but nothing except the slippers caught her eye. Slipping over to the small cot they had set up in the corner, she inched forward, her cold, bare feet moving over the concrete floor without a sound. Creeping across the floor, she reached for the soft felt footwear and picked them up, holding a trembling hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t make a sound.
Two small white slippers stayed clutched in her trembling fingers. It would do. It would have to do, she reminded herself sternly. Hope moved to just beyond the door, as she had seen them do in movies, and waited.
It seemed like forever until the door burst open and there she was. The Mistress. A different Cressida. One with glowing eyes. Her suit was ripped and blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, but it was her eyes, now red and so unlike the blue Hope had become accustomed to, that Hope noticed.
“Come, child. Come with me now.” She held out her hand, and for the first time Hope noticed her fingertips, elongated and white, with flecks of red and the pallor of her skin.
“Where to?” Hope trembled, but knew Cressida wouldn’t hurt her.
“Home, child. But we must be quick. Let me lift you and get us out of here.”
She watched the Mistress…the vampire… Hope knew her eyes telegraphed the disquiet she had never felt around her before.
Cressida stepped forward and swooped her up into strong arms. “Don’t be afraid, I am taking you home to your parents and David, but we have to be quick.”
“Cressida?”
“Yes, child?”
“Will I be safe with you too?” The words trembled on the air.
“Yes, you will, Hope. I gave my word to all that I would get you home safely and in one piece. When we are away from here, you may ask questions, but for now, hold on tight. And Hope? Close your eyes, child.”
With that, Cressida moved forward at a pace Hope knew no human could possibly match. She cracked an eye open and saw blurred bodies on the floor and dark red puddles around them, but while the speed made it impossible to see the damage, she knew they no longer lived. The coppery tang in the air did nothing to refute her thoughts. The scary thing was that these were the scenes from her nightmare.
Through the hallways they sped and up the stairs, and finally out of the door. Dawn was coming, the zing of heat that heralded the new day was in the air, and she breathed deeply for the first time since being abducted. A vehicle with darkened windows waited outside and Cressida carried her, faster now, towards it. It was the one she usually travelled in during the day. This driver was unfamiliar to her, though, she thought, while he waited by the open door, his black suit lost against the black of the car. They climbed into the dark interior, drawing the door shut as dawn crested. Cressida hissed and the window between herself and the driver rose. Hope knew the sunlight was fatal to a vampire and Thomas was a human. Just like her.
Cressida reached out to the intercom. “Thomas, take us to the safe house for now and contact Verity and James. Let them know I have Hope.”
The car moved, and Hope could feel the vibrations as it sped along the road. Cressida turned and with a weariness Hope had never before seen on her face said, “Now ask your questions. Once we reach the safe house, you will be sequestered until your guardians come for you.”
While she wanted to know where they were going, she was determined to ask her questions quickly. Something in the way Cressida gazed around and kept her distance told her that this might be the only opportunity.
“I know you are a vampire, but why do you live with us?”
“Because I am your parents’ Mistress. You family serves me in return for safety and shelter. Six generations of your family have served me. But that is now ended and Master Philippe has placed Cyrus with your family.”
“Why? Why can’t you come back?” Hope was confused. Surely, since Cressida had saved her, she would remain there? She watched as the vampire opposite shook her head wearily.
“Tonight I killed to rescue you. I took blood from Brethren and those humans who were alive. Now I feel urges I have suppressed for hundreds of years. It makes me dangerous to humans, because I will want more—a lot more. That makes me dangerous to everyone, but particularly to you, child. That is why I must leave the nest.”
As Cressida spoke, Hope noted her breathing deeply, nostrils flaring. With some fear, Hope saw fangs peeking out between ruby red lips for first time. “I feel this need to drink from a living being, which makes me vulnerable in an attack and in the manor. I must learn to fight it again. Otherwise I will become a Brethren. Do you understand what that means?”
Hope shook her head. It had to be a bad thing, but surely if she had done it once, it would be easy?
“The Brethren were like us once, but they killed humans and drank their blood. The essence of the human became one with them, but that left them hungrier. After that, they changed, becoming far less…civilised. Now, all they need is to drink the blood of a human. Drink it up. All of it.” Hope shuddered at the words that Cressida spoke.
“We also were once like that, but over years we have learnt to control our urges, enabling us to live among humans. After tonight, I can’t be sure I wouldn’t kill, for the urging of need comes upon us unawares. Then we become one of them—no more than an animal seeking its next drink.” She exhaled heavily and opened her eyes. Once more the blue reasserted itself, but Hope saw the tremor in her hands.
“Child, it is also time for me to take up a position I have been avoiding for many years. You may see me again, in the future, but I will never be what I was again. The Cressida you knew is gone, and I must find a new one to replace it. I don’t know if that can be achieved in this…in your lifespan.” Cressida smiled slowly and Hope thought there was a tinge of sadness in it.
“Just one more question then, Cressida? What is the reason that they took me and not David?”
“Child, I expected you to ask that. It is something I cannot answer at the moment, as it is something you must discover on your own. Either that, or your parents must share that information. You already know some of it, with your awareness of things that others do not have—your dreams. But there is more than this and it is not something I can tell you.” She stopped and Hope watched, perplexed as she reached out a hand towards her. “The only thing I can say is that your safety, above all others, is paramount.” She stopped a
nd the intercom buzzed.
“Mistress, we are at the safe house and I am entering the garage.”
“Thank you, Thomas. Once we are in, I will await the door being opened. Are the servants waiting for Hope?”
Hope felt pain in her chest, not from a wound, but from within her. This was a goodbye she had never considered. It was one she didn’t want.
“Yes, Mistress.” Hope’s eyes prickled with hot tears. But she was a big girl. She swallowed the lump lodged in her throat.
“Then, Hope, for now I will bid you adieu, but not goodbye, for I have a feeling that in the years to come we will cross paths again. Take care, my child.” Cressida touched Hope’s forehead with icy cold lips one last time as the door opened. With long, tapered fingers, Cressida indicated for her to be removed, while she waited stock still in the vehicle.
Hope didn’t look back. Somewhere deep down, she knew if she did she would cry at the pain and loss. And her mother had always told her, a nestling never cried.
Chapter One
Hope hauled the last heavy box up the stairs of the manor house, occasionally catching glimpses of the way her midnight black hair shone in the sunlight, when she passed the window in the living room of her apartment. “Thank heavens this is the last one,” she muttered to herself, sliding the box down to rest on the floor, before straightening and rubbing the nagging ache in her back. She could have had help, all she needed to do was ask, but now that she was an adult she needed to stand on her own two feet, she reminded herself.
Straightening up, she looked around at the mass of boxes waiting for her to delve into. “Well, gone away and back again. Where do I start first?”
The phone trilled and she started for an instant, before extending her hand to the receiver on the shelf beside her. “Hope.”
“Miss Hope, do you require any help? Lisi is wondering if you require her assistance.” The muffled voice of one of her guardians flowed out of the earpiece. She had forgotten that living at the manor meant the goldfish bowl lifestyle she had tried her best to escape at college. Not that she’d had much opportunity to live a free lifestyle. She’d been lodged with a guardian family within the college grounds. Even then, her personal team of five guards had shadowed her every move—to classes, shopping and even to the hairdresser’s.
They hadn’t escaped her notice, the looks some of her classmates had thrown her way. Longing for the lifestyle they’d thought she enjoyed. Little did they know, Hope would happily have swapped, a lot of the time. Downtime had existed within a carefully vetted group of companions, each from houses of similar status. The cloying atmosphere she hated, but, nonetheless, she had submitted to her parents’ will. Only a few times had she sought to do activities that they would have deemed inappropriate, but her conscience had always kicked in, and she had derived no enjoyment from the guilty feelings that had overcome her.
“No thanks, Jeffrey. I have all the boxes up here and I am going to take my time going through everything.” How could she explain that she needed a freedom that had been denied? That this small and almost insignificant rebellion was one she embraced? But she couldn’t. It wasn’t fair to Jeffrey to share that.
“Fine, Miss Hope. Oh, and I am supposed to remind you, the new Master has requested your presence in his library after sundown.”
She nodded, knowing it was expected that she would take her oath of fealty. “Oh. Right. I’ll be down for sunset.” She laid down the receiver. It’s one thing to owe your continued safety to a vampire nest Master, but quite another to be at his beck and call all the time, just as her parents had been. Her temper spiked momentarily. The emotion coiled through her then she shuddered, pushing away the negative thought, while absently reaching for the boxes she needed to stack, store or unpack. The rough exterior of some of them brushed against her hands. For now, she had time. Lots of time.
Ripping the tape off the first box, she then started to root through it, unwrapping reminders of her slightly more free college life, formulating arguments to put to her parents, knowing that the dice were stacked against her. Her life had been mapped out since her birth, but perhaps she could find a way around some of the roadblocks. At least she hoped so. With that thought, she set to work.
* * * *
He stretched in the bed, feeling the cool sheets around his body, savouring the experience of knowing he could rise when he wanted to. Luxuriating as he came to full awareness of his surroundings. His bed. His home. His nest. A feeling of exultation swept through him. One he had experienced several times in the last six months since he had become Master.
Xavier had only recently been transferred to this nest, after Cyrus had been called to ascend to a seat on the Council with his predecessor Cressida, the most senior of the vampires on the Council.
A new Master had been required for the nest, a situation arising from the ascension of Cressida who had saved the child Hope from the rogues. The death of another of the Council meant that Cyrus had answered a call to accept a seat. It was an almost unheard of event for a nest to have two new Masters in under a hundred years, but Xavier had accepted his unexpected promotion. Not that he would take it for granted—no, he worked beside his vampires as required, so they knew he would ensure their safety while they ensured his.
The household he had taken over was well run, and he had no fears for his financial status, even though they had lost the manor and many assets during the dark days of clearing the rogues who had attacked the house. Indeed, he had been with Cyrus the night he had ascended and had seen the great strides Cyrus had made during his Mastership.
He swiped a hand over his stubbled face and a voice to his left said quietly, “Master, refreshments for you.” A crystal goblet appeared in a white hand at the edge of his vision. He accepted it with a grunt, the ruby red liquid inside calling to him on a primal level. Blood wine. Sustenance that would ease the clawing hunger he always felt on awakening.
His teeth extended and his mouth opened. The first drop touched his tongue and a frisson moved through him, the ecstasy of drinking flowing into his body. He took his time, savouring the flavours.
Young.
Full bodied.
Tart aftertaste. The wine, the only human sustenance he could now enjoy. Food was relegated to a memory of things long past.
He closed his eyes as the last drop flowed, and breathed deep. Yes, a Master could very quickly become accustomed to this lifestyle, but not now and not today. He needed to meet this Hope, the one who had turned their entire world upside down. James had told him little about his daughter, save that she would need to remain within the house, protected from the world. That someday she would assume the mantle of leading the house from within, while her brother oversaw the legal and financial affairs of the nest.
He pushed the bed covers away, unconcerned about nudity as he padded to the bathroom. He might be a vampire, but he still bathed and shaved, a thought that made him chuckle. Even after all these years, when vampires had made their entry into the human world, humans outside nests thought vampires had no need for those daily rituals.
He moved through his ablutions. She would be waiting for him, but he would present himself to her in his most urbane incarnation. She would take her oath of fealty, then he would meet with his advisers, James and David leading the human contingent.
No need to rush her, he reminded himself. After all, he was the Master now. He stopped and thought. This was not the attitude to take. After all, he might be the Master, but each and every human in the nest had a place and value. He remonstrated with himself, giving a shake of his head, then hurried through his dressing, pulling on white shirt, suit and tie.
Finally dressed and ready, he left his suite, making his way up the stairs and through the secure door, where he continued to the library. His sanctum, and now office.
In the corridor stood his second, Javed. His origins were Arabic, though, as with most of the vampires he knew, they never discussed the lives they had led as humans befo
re they became vampires. They were gone and past. He waited, looking easy, but no one knew better than Xavier that this belied the soul of a warrior. His friend and most trusted ally would be carrying a range of weaponry. He scanned the room, watching every movement around him, assessing and looking for weaknesses. He also acted as an information conduit where necessary. Tonight, Xavier needed to know the status of the newest to take her oath, the daughter of the house whom neither of them had met.
“What is her status?” He looked closely at his second in charge and only confidante.
“She is concerned and upset. Her parents have continued the line that she is to assume the status her mother holds. The staff have intimated she is unsettled and angry at the obvious restrictions placed upon her. Apparently after the freer life she experienced whilst away, she is finding the strictures difficult to accept.” Javed watched him, waiting for the words of his leader, and Xavier felt the weight of responsibility settle again.
The nod he gave was quick. He would be adding to the strictures that she found so stifling. Something felt wrong about the situation, yet he had accepted the comments of his Yeux Secondes in the matter. Then he dismissed his concerns and considered the day ahead. The sound of steps filled his mind and he moved towards the room beyond, knowing that the chandeliers would gleam in the dark and the white tiles beneath his feet would reflect the glow of light as directed by Verity.
The doors opened and he entered the room, only to stop just beyond the threshold as he saw a woman. Her scent, clean and soft, filled his mind. Beautiful, willowy, he noted while she gracefully moved before the bookcases, her long-nailed fingers sliding over the spines of the books that she perused, and for a moment pleasure invaded his mind, thoughts of those fingers trailing over his body arousing him. Long black hair, graceful neck and hips that flared slightly. She wasn’t angular, just perfectly proportioned.
His mouth dried, even as his gums ached and his body tightened in response. Then she turned around.