A Shade of Vampire 81: A Bringer of Night

by Forrest, Bella

  I hoped, for everyone’s sake, that this would turn out to be the case. Kalon and I had gone through quite the adventure to capture Ansel and bring him safely home. Upon further consideration, I decided that spending some time in the Visentis mansion wasn’t such a bad idea. It put me dangerously close to Kalon’s bedroom, of course, but it also forced me to confront the demons I’d allowed to mess with my mind since I’d first heard Kalon and Ansel talking back at the lake house.

  There wasn’t a better opportunity for me to clear the air before it became unbreathable. Besides, with Ansel here, I had no intention of leaving—not until I made sure the boy was safe and supervised. The last thing we needed was a little Darkling running back to his horde.

  Esme

  Petra had a room arranged for me, complete with some Aeternae-style clothes. To be honest, I was looking forward to getting out of my combat suit. After a hot bath, I slipped into a simple emerald-green dress with white lace ruffles around the wrists and collar. The fitted bodice accentuated my narrow waist against the full skirt.

  I combed my hair into a loose bun, adding a decorative brass comb in the front. Checking myself in the mirror, I took a deep breath and prepared myself for dinner with the Visentis dynasty. I was still feeling overwhelmed—there was something about this mansion and the people in it that made me nervous, maybe even a little insecure, which was unusual. After one more steadying breath, I put my anxiety aside and stepped out of my room, guided downstairs by the sound of voices.

  The dining room was exquisite, with dark blue wallpaper and solid wood paneling. A crystal chandelier swayed low from the ceiling just above the enormous table in the center. A silk runner ran down the table’s length, and my attention was temporarily captured by the glint of silverware, fine porcelain, and crystal glasses. Pitchers of blood had been placed in the center, and servants clad in dark gray velvet awaited my arrival.

  Petra sat at the head of the table—I expected nothing less from the matriarch—while Aganon and Simmon had the first two seats on either side of her. On Simmon’s side, Tudyk and Moore had taken their places—their height and childlike faces were the only things that set them apart from the adults. By all other accounts, both boys were highly advanced and maybe just as dangerous as adult Aeternae. On Aganon’s side, Kalon sat quietly. The chair next to him was mine.

  “Esme. You look wonderful,” Petra said as I walked in. “I knew the dress would fit you nicely.”

  “Thank you for this, by the way,” I replied, unhappy with the absence of multiple secret pockets, like the ones I’d had in other Aeternae dresses. I’d only managed to slip a few smoke bombs into the one pocket this dress had come with, along with a handful of invisibility paraphernalia. “It’s actually quite comfortable.”

  Kalon’s eyes found mine, and for a moment I was breathless. He’d changed into an elegant black suit, the light gray shirt’s faint shimmer competing with the matching strands in his dark hair. His lips turned slowly into a discreet smile as he motioned for me to sit with him.

  “I could easily mistake you for an Aeternae,” Aganon said, assessing me from head to toe. “I see no physical difference between our species whatsoever.”

  I wanted to respond, but Petra beat me to it. “Apart from her sensitivity to light, there isn’t much of a difference. Well, if you exclude the fact that we are stronger and faster than her kind.”

  “Esme could give any Aeternae a run for their money,” Kalon replied, watching me like a hawk as I moved around the table and took my seat next to him. “I wouldn’t underestimate her, if I were you.”

  “Even me?” Moore asked, as cocky as a full-grown Aeternae.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I whipped your ass in the Blood Arena twice. Take the hint, grow some more, then come back and display your prowess,” Kalon cut him off. Moore didn’t seem intimidated, though, just all the more determined to prove himself.

  “If I’m this good now, imagine what I’ll be like in a couple of years,” the boy said.

  Tudyk sighed, staring at a pitcher of blood. “You’re already better than me, so maybe stop rubbing it in.”

  Petra laughed lightly. “You’re all still my little boys, whether you’re six or five thousand years old. Perhaps leave the manly crap aside for tonight, and just be brothers.”

  A strange silence took over the table, as the Visentis brothers exchanged knowing glances. I had a feeling Moore would learn the hard way that his early prowess did not make him invincible. My only hope was that it would be Kalon to teach him that lesson, and not some Aeternae psycho looking for a thrill in the Blood Arena.

  “We are working on resolving our sensitivity to daylight,” I said, changing the subject as I offered Petra a warm smile. “Hopefully, I will be able to walk in the sun within the fortnight.”

  “I actually spoke to Amal and Amane this morning,” she said. I already knew about their conversation but decided to keep the information to myself. I didn’t want Petra to think we were gossiping about her and the Aeternae—though that was exactly what we did whenever we had a chance. “They seemed quite enthusiastic about the project. You might be correct about the timing.”

  “It’s why you people came here in the first place,” Simmon replied, looking at me. “To get something from our blood, right?”

  I nodded. “There’s a protein that protects the entire body. The light sensitivity doesn’t go away, but the protein creates a sort of shield that allows us to walk in the daylight. Amal and Amane tried to replicate the protein from Derek’s blood, but it didn’t work, so we had to come to the source.”

  “It’s a shame you got dragged into our mess,” Simmon muttered, lowering his gaze. He seemed ashamed by the events that had led to this moment. “I would rather you had spent time visiting and exploring Visio instead of hunting Darklings. It’s ridiculous.”

  “It’s fine,” I replied. “It’s not in our nature to shy away from trouble. It may be a shame we wound up getting involved, considering we lost Nethissis in the process, but… I don’t know, I’m trying to find the silver lining here. I’ve learned more about the Aeternae from this Darkling issue than from all the dinners and palace garden walks combined.”

  “When can we see Ansel?” Tudyk asked, apparently not very interested in what I had to say. He was obviously worried about his older brother. I felt sorry for him. Radicalization affected the families, too. The damage the Darklings had done to the Visentis dynasty would take a long time to overcome.

  “I told you. After I’m done talking to him, you will get your chance,” Petra snapped. She was on edge, and she had every reason to be. Her son had been radicalized by fanatics who wielded death magic and used ghouls for their own sinister ends. “Until Ansel tells me the whole truth about what happened and everything he knows about the Darklings, he will not leave his room. He will stay under lock and key,” she added, briefly looking my way. “I’ll get to the bottom of this. I promise, Esme.”

  “I’m sure you will,” I said. “You’re the badass high priestess around here. But for what it’s worth, let me just say… Ansel is young. Even if you convince him to cooperate, he will still have to pay for his transgression. At least some jailtime, assuming he’s spared the death penalty. After that, it’ll be a road to recovery for him. He’ll need each and every one of you by his side, to show him there’s life after the Darklings.”

  “Your compassion is astonishing.” Simmon sighed. “Let us hope our brother does the right thing. It would be in everyone’s best interest.”

  “What I don’t get is how he got involved with the Darklings in the first place,” Aganon grumbled.

  Petra signaled the servants to go ahead with dinner. Blood was poured into deep porcelain plates, and we used spoons to drink it—much like I’d done with soup as a kid. I found it interesting, given that the Aeternae had never eaten soup or any other kind of food, unlike vampires. They hadn’t experienced human cuisine, or rather, Rimian or Nalorean cuisine, in their case.

/>   “Forgive me for asking, but what is the point of this?” I raised my spoon over the plate. “I haven’t seen this type of service in the palace. Technically speaking, the Aeternae don’t need such a setup. Wouldn’t glasses be enough?”

  The Visentis men and boys looked at each other quietly, then back at Petra, who offered me a half-smile. “It has something to do with our family history. A little-known aspect of our bloodline, to be specific,” she said. “One of our Visentis forefathers was a Rimian.”

  “Oh?” I breathed, my eyes widening in surprise.

  “About two million years ago, a Rimian man fought hard in the Blood Arena in order to be turned,” Petra said. It immediately reminded me of Trev Blayne, who’d done the same and had asked Kalon to turn him into an Aeternae. I hoped we’d see Trev again soon. We were due to meet him in the city, but there was always the risk of him running into trouble after our basement and raid scuffle with the Darklings. There was a price on Trev’s head after he’d infiltrated their faction, and it was bound to double if they didn’t catch him soon.

  “His name was Lyrus Pan,” Simmon added. “He fell in love with Esmeralda Visentis, our great-grandmother. She was very young at the time, only sixteen, but Lyrus knew he wanted to spend an eternity with her. So he fought hard, nearly getting himself killed a couple of times.”

  “He won,” Petra said. “And he demanded that my grandmother, Esmeralda, be the one to turn him. They met one evening for dinner. Lyrus had soup, served in plates like these, while Esmeralda had blood. They laughed and talked for hours, after which she turned him. A few years later, they were married, their love for one another only growing stronger. They had children, and they lived happily for centuries. Every seventh day, Lyrus had blood served to him in porcelain plates. It was his way of reminiscing about his lost mortality, about his life as a Rimian. He respected his past and his origins, but he assimilated into the Aeternae life quickly.”

  “He kept the plate habit.” Kalon sighed deeply. “Then the Black Fever struck, and he died. Our great-grandmother’s heart was broken beyond repair, and she never married again. She continued his habit. On the seventh day of the week she had blood served in plates, just like we are having now, to honor his memory, his love for the Aeternae, and his dedication to the Visentis dynasty.”

  “Unfortunately, she passed during the following Black Fever outbreak,” Petra said, sadness tinting her voice. “We’ve continued the custom for her and for Lyrus. It will go on even if we end up dead ourselves someday.”

  I tried to imagine Lyrus, remembering one particular portrait of a man whose skin was darker than that of most other occupants of the walls of the mansion’s reception area. That must’ve been him, tall and handsome, with big, curious brown eyes. I’d have to go back there to study the paintings more closely in order to get a better picture of Lyrus and Esmeralda. In the meantime, I found my heart warmed by their story.

  It made this custom of consuming blood from plates all the more beautiful and deeply meaningful. “This is a wonderful thing you’re all doing,” I said. “Honoring your ancestors this way.”

  As much as I’d enjoyed their story, it was time to test their reactions and figure out how much each of them knew about the Darklings—particularly Kalon. I wondered if he and Ansel were the only ones in contact with them, or if the rest of the siblings were also involved. Petra had struck me as the all-knowing type of mother, secretive and resourceful, so had Ansel truly deceived her or was this all just an act?

  For a moment, I’d allowed myself to bask in the romantic history of the Visentis dynasty. Reality was bound to come back and bite me in the ass. I might as well be the one to do the biting first, I thought to myself.

  “Has Kalon told you about Zoltan’s capture?” I asked.

  Petra stilled, her hand gripping the spoon tight enough for her knuckles to turn white. She looked at her son. “No, he hasn’t,” she replied. “When did this happen?”

  “Yesterday,” I said.

  “Why didn’t you tell me as soon as you arrived?” Petra hissed, scowling at Kalon. He didn’t seem that affected, and I wondered what that was all about.

  “With everything that’s been going on, I admit it slipped my mind,” Kalon said.

  “Tristan and Valaine are on their way back from Astoria,” I added, further analyzing Petra’s expression. “They’re bringing him in for judgment. They lost several of their gold guards, but they got him.”

  “What of the Darklings?” Petra asked me.

  “They ran away. Some were killed. A couple were captured and put with the others they caught in the village raids along the Green Road,” I said. “We’ve got our work cut out for us upon their return, since we’ll have to interrogate each of them. We can’t stop now. Zoltan was merely the tip of the iceberg.”

  Petra thought about it for a moment, her gaze wandering across the table. Kalon’s hand found mine under it, and my heart skipped a beat as he squeezed gently. I wasn’t sure of the meaning behind this gesture, and I didn’t dare make any more assumptions. There was too much I didn’t know yet. A lot he hadn’t told me.

  “Well, I, for one, am pleased. Relieved, even, that the bastard will be brought to justice,” Petra finally said, leaning back into her chair. “For all the shame he’s brought upon our empire, I see no penalty more appropriate than death.”

  “We won’t kill him until he tells us everything he knows about ghouls and death magic. The fact that he and the Darklings have this kind of knowledge is beyond alarming. In fact, it goes beyond your jurisdiction as Aeternae. This may be your land, and we obviously respect that, but the Darklings’ use of such occult powers concerns all the living, not just you.”

  Aganon frowned. “What are you trying to say?”

  “I’m trying to make something clear here. As a member of GASP and a guest here, I’ve reduced the degree of my involvement in your affairs where the Darklings are concerned, keeping myself to a consulting role, at most. But now that we know the Darklings are using Reaper scythes and ghouls—two elements my kind are more familiar with than yours—it is time for us to exert a little more authority over how Zoltan and the Darklings are questioned.”

  Petra was quick to get my point, though she wasn’t exactly thrilled. Still, she nodded once. “I understand. And, of course, it makes sense. You clearly know more about this than the rest of us, so I’m certain the Lord and Lady Supreme won’t have a problem with granting you more authority over the investigation into the Darklings,” she said, her tone flat. “I admit, I’m deeply ignorant about ghouls and… death magic, you called it?”

  “Yes. It’s not something we would ever have wanted to deal with ourselves, but we’ve had our share of interactions with Death and her Reapers… not to mention the ghouls. They’ve been a staple of our troubles for decades,” I replied.

  “You must tell us everything you know about them, then,” she urged me, and her sons seemed to agree. They looked expectantly at Kalon and me. “The Aeternae must be made aware of how they can protect themselves against such… monsters.”

  “I will happily tell you everything I’ve learned about the ghouls and death magic,” I replied. “But I’m afraid there isn’t much any of us can really do. The ghouls have two forms. There’s the subtle form, which is basically invisible and difficult to spot. Not impossible, but difficult. The physical form, on the other hand, is visible and gruesome, and it’s the only time when we can actually hurt them.”

  “How does one kill a ghoul?” Moore asked, elbows resting on the table as if he were preparing for story time.

  “Decapitation and dismemberment, but only if they’re visible,” I explained. “Reapers have their scythes, precious weapons that destroy the ghouls. In the absence of those, we’ve got our strength, of course.”

  Aganon scoffed. “Forgive me for asking, but if all this is Death’s domain, so to speak, why isn’t she more involved in cleaning up this mess? If the Darklings are using ghouls and other death-r
elated things, which they obviously shouldn’t, why isn’t Death swarming this world and cleaning it up?”

  “That is a good question,” I muttered. “We’re wondering the same thing. The entity known as Death is keeping a lid on everything, so we don’t know whether she has taken any action or not. Her plane is unseen to us. There may be Reapers already here hunting for the Darklings, for all I know. We’ve only been told not to meddle in the affairs of that which is beyond death, and to work on our own problems. Unfortunately, our problems intersect with the Reapers’ here on Visio.”

  “I find it odd,” Petra replied. “Death is… Death is final. All-powerful. The end to everything, in a sense. I don’t need to meet her or to know about her to understand her cosmic purpose. It’s strange that she’s not destroying the Darklings herself.”

  I couldn’t exactly tell her that Death was trapped under hundreds of seals, courtesy of the Spirit Bender. I didn’t want to make her seem weak. The last thing I needed was getting on Death’s bad side over this. Petra’s curiosity was interesting, however. Unfortunately, it didn’t give me any new insights into the Visentis dynasty. Curiosity could easily be faked—like how Kalon had faked shock upon first hearing about the Darklings after the initial attack on Valaine.

  Noticing the sons’ expressions and stolen glances, I realized I’d been missing an important piece of the puzzle. None of them seemed in the least bit terrified by the concept of ghouls and Reapers, the former roaming Visio and doing the Darklings’ bidding. Had I been in their shoes, I would’ve quaked in my boots at the mere thought of flesh-eating monsters serving those fanatics.