by Nix, Imogene
Hope thanked the heavens she had never seen it—the chatter from other nestlings had been enough to turn her stomach.
As she moved into the room, she found it warmer and far more welcoming than she had expected. She noted the large round table in the middle, more gleaming dark wood and scented beeswax. The soft furnishings were powder blue this time, and with glints of gilding here and there, to take away the oppressiveness.
“Welcome, my child. Xavier, I am pleased you could arrange to get away so quickly.” Cressida seemed to glide towards her. The grace in her movements continued to amaze Hope, as both hands were outstretched in welcome. On her face was a broad grin, and Hope accepted nods from the half dozen or so who were seated at the table.
“Cressida, it is always a pleasure. However, you intimated that there was urgency to this matter?” Xavier’s voice cut through the muted chatter.
She turned to him with a ready smile. “Yes, there is. Please take a seat.” Cressida indicated two empty chairs beside her, then, smoothing down her immaculate blue skirt, sat down slowly, as if gathering herself for the storm ahead.
“As you would be aware, Hope was abducted from the nest as a child. I spoke to James at the time, and told him he needed to ensure her safety and then once she was old enough, that he must tell her about her…situation.”
Cressida stopped and looked at Hope, and, for just a second, Hope saw a quick flash of emotion in her eyes. Dismay? Pity? Concern? They were all there and others less easily defined as well. “You see, Hope is…a blood siren.” She stopped.
Xavier sucked in air. “Blood siren? I thought that was a myth? How…?” He looked baffled.
Hope was even more confused. “What is a blood siren, Cressida? And why is this such an issue?” Hope could see that the genuine puzzlement in her tone caught Cressida off guard.
“Hope, dear, you have not been taught about the mythology of the siren. I particularly requested your parents not do so, until you had finished your education.”
A feeling of cold trickled down her spine. Could this be the answer to the abduction so many years ago?
“During the centuries, we have had sirens, both male and female, but until recently we didn’t understand exactly what made them special. We knew that they are born with the ability to cure vampirism, and also to infect those who are susceptible to it. Until the last thirty years or so, we have acquired some knowledge of how this has come to pass. As a body, the Council has made certain facilities available to doctors, to investigate what it is about the blood of these people that has been able to effect such changes.” Hope waited for Cressida to continue, but she picked up her goblet and took a deep draught.
“Sirens…” Cressida stopped, then shook her head, before starting again. “As vampires we have a bi-polar outlook on sirens. At least, what we thought was the myth of the siren. For those of us in nests, we see them as having a place in how we came to be. Our mythology tells us that the blood of a siren made the first and most powerful vampire ever. We hold sirens as being sacred to us. To be protected at all costs. Those rogue vampires though… They only see a weapon to vanquish the nests and a way to create more vampires in their warped image.”
“Just before your birth, there was a breakthrough, that gave us a hint. Then once you were born we knew what factors to look for. We discovered there is a marker, a genetic…mutation in your blood that carries the virus for vampirism, though it is dormant until ingested by those either susceptible or already infected. Your blood is also volatile, inducing blood highs for some, which is why you have been so closely guarded in the past.”
Cold. The cold trickle had turned arctic, as Hope sat still in the chair. She was a blood siren? Able to cure and infect with the vampirism virus? Induce blood highs? But, why hadn’t Cressida allowed her parents to tell her?
“Why did you…?” The words escaped and Cressida looked both embarrassed and annoyed. She shook her head, telling herself this couldn’t possibly be true. But she needed answers. “How did you become aware of this?”
“When you were just a baby, your blood was mapped. We have been doing that with each child born within the nests for several generations. It allows us to ensure that our records of births are accurate and to attribute them to the correct houses. It also means, when we have families with members of rare blood types, our medics have necessary stocks of their blood type available, to ensure the safety and security of each and every member of the nest. Well, that is how we managed to promote it to the wider public. The truth is, our concern over the situation with blood sirens had become untenable. We had already lost several, and we needed to find a way to assess every member quietly.”
Cressida watched her quietly as Hope struggled to understand the importance of the announcement. “As you know, when we lose members of the nests, we make a sacrifice of blood. Usually we use the mapped blood as the sacrifice.” She stopped, breathed deep and turned, pulling a sheaf of papers towards herself, flicking through until she found a page, mottled with age. Cressida pushed it towards Hope.
“When your blood was mapped, we instantly noticed the strange genetic markers. A sample was sent to the central testing facility and they had a susceptible member working with your blood. We were all unsure, until there was…an accident. That staffer turned within the week, but was unable to control his appetites. That is how we first became aware that you could be a siren. We ran every test to check the scientists could devise for the specific strain of virus that you carry. All three hundred of them.”
How could this be happening to her? Pain, unbearable now, screamed through her. For so long they had kept this secret. Now, she understood why she had been so consistently and heavily guarded. But it didn’t make the knowledge any easier to bear.
“We ran one last test, which was positive. An empirical test on a Brethren vampire. He was cured of the virus within days. That is how we knew definitively.”
Hope clenched her hands tightly, seeking release from the words, but there wasn’t any. This wasn’t a bad dream. It was her life. “So what does that mean for me, Cressida? What will you do with me?” Hope’s voice wobbled a little.
“Child, we thought we had dealt with those behind the kidnapping, but, when we received the intelligence last night, we knew we hadn’t got them all. Some of the information we have points to the fact that you were the one they wanted. The reason for last night’s attack on your coming home party is tied to this, we believe.”
Silence filled the room, while they waited for her reaction. She could feel the pressure of their gazes on her as she dropped her head. Waiting for the pronouncement of…what? Death? Banishment? Being treated like a science experiment and locked in a cage? Fear bubbled up within her.
“You will need to be kept under protection, which is why you were taken to the Master’s suite. We thought previously that as everyone had been dealt with…caught…that no one would be aware of the situation. We didn’t realise until then that there had been a group rebuilding their army, and looking for an opportunity to attack again.” The words had Hope sitting back up, straight in her seat.
“We are also closing down the nest, for the short term, and consolidating nestlings to other manors in case the Brethren do something…inappropriate.”
Hope felt even more puzzled, and lifted a shaking hand to her forehead. Her temperature going from freezing cold to raging hot and back again, she ached all over. “Why would you close the nest? What inappropriate action could the Brethren possibly take that would have an impact on the situation?” Situation was such a mild term to use given the circumstances, she thought with a touch of hysteria, while her stomach churned mercilessly.
“Because they will attack the house and the units to get to you, Hope. If we don’t reinforce the house, they will attack in numbers. If we do reinforce the house, we leave the other units depleted of security. So we will consolidate our resources to ensure everyone is protected. The guard at the manor is being tripled with my own
and Cyrus’ personal guards, but you will remain with Xavier under his protection until we can deal with the situation. We have our best operatives working on the case and we hope there will be a positive resolution soon. Until then, though, you will not venture anywhere he does not deem safe.” The words were firm and infused with the magic endowed on Council members. Hope’s body tingled.
“Xavier, she will be better protected with you. I think we need to move the majority of the nest members out of the house until we have dealt with this issue. Leave only the necessary staff and family members. I have also contacted the government liaison service, and you are authorised to use any and all means to neutralise this threat.”
Cressida stood up and stalked around the table, the fury she had kept hidden now released, and Hope watched, the feeling of being disconnected leaving her lost in the maelstrom of emotions. Anger, sadness, concern—all warred inside her mind. She understood that Cressida felt deeply about the nestlings under her protection. Indeed, Hope also knew she had received special attention as a child from the Mistress vampire.
Cressida’s eyes glowed and each step was jerky with suppressed rage as she spun quickly, her hair whipping with her movement. Hope could see the set planes of her face, white and sharp. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore, and Hope wanted to weep at the injustice of it all. She hadn’t chosen this for herself.
“We thought that Estersham was behind it. But our best sources at the time told us he was dead and had been for centuries.” Cressida dragged a hand through her hair as Hope watched. “Last night I received a message directly from him.” She reached to the side and lifted a box, inlaid with gold, and walked back to Xavier. She all but flung the box on the table, where it landed with a thud. Xavier looked at Cressida then Hope before flipping the lid back to reveal a copper collar. Hope knew what it was. She’d only seen one before, in a glass cabinet in the house.
The collar was lined with black velvet, and this one still had the tattered scraps of the lining attached, though it looked battered and tarnished in the light. It was also engraved with the number three hundred and twenty-seven—the individualised number used for tracking vampires within the justice system. Usually the collars were buried after the vampire expired with whatever remains they found.
Hope watched Xavier close his eyes. His face was drawn and grim. When he opened them once more, a cold glitter shone. She shuddered, as a sudden chill invaded her body. Obviously, there was more to the story. Maybe he would tell her. One day. But right now, his anger was frightening to see.
He was incandescent with rage. She could see that clearly and quivered in response. An enraged vampire is nothing anyone wants to meet. The thoughts echoed through her mind and she closed her eyes. What would happen next, now that she had become a playing piece in the game?
Chapter Four
The trip back was silent and long. He could hear Hope’s breath and the beat of her heart, as she sat beside him. She had been through an emotionally draining night, yet at the moment he could offer her no support, his anger at the revelations stripping him of the humanity it would take to help her come to terms with her own demons.
His emotions were turbulent. Estersham. How had he survived? The thought burned his guts like acid, churning and roiling in his stomach, eating away at him from the inside out. Estersham had been one of the most respected members of the Council before he had turned rogue. Hell, he had even been like a father to Xavier in those first years, taking him in hand as a young vampire, and explaining the rules of living in a society where your true nature must remain secret. It was Estersham who had helped him to attach himself to a nest as a guard.
But a dark event had occurred, changing Estersham to one of the most depraved creatures of the dark. The kind that had been portrayed as the ultimate evil in the old stories passed down through the ages. He had taken to feeding on the blood of unsuspecting humans, in the darkest recesses of the night, stalking them like prey.
If he hadn’t seen for himself the changes in Estersham, he would have never thought it possible. His teeth were elongated and sharp. His eyes so cold and fearsome when they glowed red in the light of the lamps. The crimson stains of blood on his clothes, an Estersham he had never before seen. Xavier had watched it dribble down his chin, his face alight with glee, as he recounted murdering a family as they slept in their hovel. The horrifying image had haunted Xavier ever since.
The thoughts and memories that assailed him, of that hideous night when they had used the copper restraints, still made him feel cold. The memory of the mad way he’d fought, while the pungent smell of death hung in the air, stayed with him.
Xavier shook his head, trying to clear the memories away. It may have been over two hundred years ago, but it still felt like yesterday when Estersham had defied the rules, bringing them to the edge of discovery. The night he had been found, the Council had sentenced him to death and, as they all thought, executed.
He cleared his mind of the memories, and focused on the task at hand. The nest required protection. Its safety was of great importance, but paramount in his own mind was the safety of Hope. The thought of her being captured, taken and even hurt sent a shaft of pain through him. They would drain her dry, every drop would be used to either create new, first generation vampires with greater strength or to un-create nested vampires. That she was their ultimate goal was now clear. Without fully understanding his motivation, he knew that he would do anything, risk anyone, to ensure her safety—not just because it was a decree of the Council.
Xavier set himself to the task of setting priorities. Move everyone possible out of the nest. Arrange billeting for those they couldn’t fit into the secured apartments, or who had no options, then transport them to their new abodes. He checked off each step mentally. He turned the plan over, searching for options of how to achieve the necessary outcome, as quickly as possible.
He closed his eyes and considered each nestling as he knew them. Some could be removed to the small hotel they had just purchased, or to the apartments downtown. They weren’t finished yet, but they could spare enough guards to cover the building.
Xavier ran through lists of Masters and Mistresses he could count upon to allow him to billet nestlings. Prioritising would be important. Those with children, or the aged and infirm, would require particular care in their placement, then he could look at ways of grouping those who remained. The weight of responsibility for the care and protection of his people had never been so heavy.
Xavier let his mind drift to who could remain in the manor. Lisi, as Hope’s companion, would stay within the house, and of course a cook and one of the cleaners. Her family would be there, though he felt a frisson of disquiet, remembering the altercation with her father from earlier in the evening.
He reached forward to the button, and he began speaking to Javed about how they would enact the decisions of the Council, quickly and safely.
* * * *
The vehicle entered the drive. Trees cast dark shadows on the gravel as the powerful car pulled up smoothly. The motion woke Hope briefly. A door opened at the front and she raised weary eyes. Voices and movement pushed sleep farther from her mind, while the sensation of being lifted in a breeze roused her further. Hope blinked, to clear the mist of slumber, from her mind that had crept over her during the return journey.
“Where are we?” The words tumbled out sleepily.
“Home, sleepyhead.” Strong arms encircled her. Xavier. The scent of him filled her senses, and she felt the iron hardness of his body. Contentment filled her for an instant, before the importance of his words penetrated her foggy mind. She tensed.
“Put me down. Masters don’t carry humans into the house.” Her words were agitated and she struggled against his hold, while the last wisps fled.
“Be still, Hope. Otherwise I may drop you.” But it wasn’t censure in his voice, more amusement.
He thought carrying her was amusing? How on earth would she explain this to her parents, if
they caught wind of it? Shame burnt through her. “Please put me down.” She stopped struggling, hoping he would accede, and she felt her face flame with embarrassment. Hope grasped him around the neck, pulling herself up slightly, so that she was at least able to cast furtive looks around her, about to breathe a sigh of relief, when she saw a padded slipper appear on the staircase straight ahead, followed by a leg and a dressing gown.
She closed her eyes. She knew those slippers and that dressing gown with the pink feather edging. She had actually bought it for her sister-in-law last Christmas. Hope sighed. Nothing in her life at this point was going to be easy.
She and Alexa really didn’t have anything in common, except that the woman had married her brother. And that made for strained relations, as she knew Alexa did not accept that her role in the family and the nest was lower than Hope’s.
“Hope? What are you doing? The Master shouldn’t be carrying you around.” Her face schooled into a picture of disapproval, and Hope knew the tale would be carried back to David and her mother. Yet one more infraction she would need to deal with.
“Master, allow me to help my sister back to her room.” She scurried across the floor and reached out an arm.
“Thank you, Alexa. But she will be remaining in my care.” Xavier’s voice was quiet but firm, and Hope could see a brief flash of annoyance and something else cross Alexa’s face, but once it was gone, she questioned if it was her discomfort around Alexa that had caused her to see what wasn’t there. Perhaps she was seeing problems where none existed, yet deep inside, she doubted that was quite correct.
“It’s fine, Xavier. Honestly, I can walk. Alexa, I will contact you and Mother in the morning.” She hoped the tone of her voice would settle Alexa, yet her sense of disquiet grew.
Alexa stepped back, “Fine. I’m just heading to the kitchen for a glass of warm milk. Would you like one?” She indicated down the hall and much as Hope wanted to do something—anything—to mend the fences with Alexa, now all she felt was the dragging pull of weariness. Raising a hand, she tried to hold back a yawn, but it escaped. She clapped her hand over her mouth, but the sound alerted Xavier, who pulled her closer against him.