by E. M. Knight
He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes… and starts to play.
The music fills the room. Notes fall high and low. There’s a beautiful synchronicity between them. Raul’s fingers dance over the keyboard. All his hesitation is gone. All the restraint, all the caution is gone. He loses himself in the music, and it’s a glorious melody that he plays, full of complete notes and rising crescendos and entire sweeps of cascading sounds.
Quickly, he gains confidence. Now his whole body begins to move with the sound. He becomes absorbed in the music, totally oblivious to anything… except the wonderful music he is producing. A sort of energy pulsates from his body and ebbs into me. I’d say it was body heat, but vampires are cold, always cold, and yet I feel a sort of beautiful, blossoming resonance between us.
Like I said, I’ve always appreciated music. But now, as a vampire, with all my enhanced senses, and none of the turbulent unease, I find myself enjoying it so much more. The tiniest nuances, previously hidden to my human ears, are now evident in all their glory. The smallest, most subtle shifts in tone add a delicious layer of complexity to the sound Raul is producing.
It’s almost hypnotizing. The piece is rich and powerful. Raul plays, and the music grows, until it envelops the whole of me and the whole of the room. I’m lifted to a higher plane as I let the music take me, wash over me, wash through me in an experience that could have never been possible were I still human.
Oh, how I pity the way I used to lament becoming a creature of the night. These gifts I now hold—nothing can be more precious. Nothing can be more valuable. The whole of the world is opened up to me, a feast for my senses come after a lent of starvation.
How could anyone deny the power of song, the power of sound to uplift the body and mind and let the spirit soar? It’s like a link has been opened up between my soul and Raul’s music. It’s astounding, it’s amazing, it’s hypnotizing and, most of all, it’s—
Suddenly Raul stops. The music cuts off. The elation dies. A silence descends upon the room, broken only by his heavy breathing.
“I… I got a little carried away,” he says. “Forgive me?”
I stare at him in amazement. And then, in an impulsive flash, I throw my arms around him and hold him tight.
“That was incredible,” I whisper in his ear. “Raul, I didn’t know you could play.”
He pulls back, gently, and cups my face with his hands. He searched my eyes for a long, lingering moment.
I feel the connection that we once had flare into being again.
“I wouldn’t have shared that with any but you,” he says softly. “I’ve never played for an audience before. It was only something I ever did for myself.”
“I’m glad you let me in on your secret,” I tell him, in full earnestness. “And I—”
He cuts me off by sealing his lips to mine and kissing me.
I flounder when I’m finally let go. I gasp for air, because all of it has been stolen from my lungs.
“I’ve waited a very, very long time to do that,” he tells me.
I want to laugh. I want to cry. I don’t know what I want, the music, the kiss, the situation, for all of it is making me so emotional.
But there is one thing I know for sure. I want more of Raul.
Something flares in his eyes—a sudden impulsiveness—and he kisses me again. My hands tangle in his hair. I pull him close. Our bodies press together, seated awkwardly as we are on the piano bench. His hand runs to my lower back. He tugs me closer. I give a little yelp of surprise as his hand tightens against my waist.
He continues to kiss me, exploring the contours of my lips with his tongue, tasting me, needing me, needing me as much as I do him. And I kiss him back hard, no longer afraid of the feelings he evokes in me, no longer hesitant to commit completely to who I am and what he makes me feel.
But a moment later, something starts to feel wrong. It’s like there’s a presence in the room with us. It breaks me out of the blissful moment and forces me to push Raul away.
“What is it?” he asks. Desire threads his voice. “Too fast?”
“No,” I say. “No, it’s not that. I just thought I felt—”
I don’t get to finish. The door swings open and slams hard against the wall. Both Raul and I jerk back.
Dagan is standing there.
“Reunion’s over,” he announces harshly. “It’s time for us to work.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
JAMES
THE WOODS OUTSIDE THE HAVEN
Wanda comes up to me and offers me her wrist. “Drink, my Lord,” she says.
Imperiously, I swat her hand away. I have no interest in more of her blood.
Heavens know I’ve had enough of it in the last half-span.
I’ve been in the company of these humans for days. At first, I thought I would simply abandon them after taking what I needed. And for a good ninety-six hours, I led them to believe I did exactly that.
Whereas in reality, I’d stayed close and watched to see how they would react after they found me gone.
In that time, I discovered a group of humans more fascinating than I could have ever believed.
For one, they did not panic when they found me missing. Neither did they seem particularly alarmed to discover four of their company dead. They burned the bodies with a sleek efficiency, and did so in near-absolute silence. The fact that they barely had to speak to discuss what had happened tells me that they were, in some ways, prepared for this.
I followed them closer in the aftermath. I wondered where they would go, what they would do. I watched as they set traps for rabbits and small game. I waited as they roasted their meals and shared their meager provisions with each other. I listened to every drop of conversation that would reach my ears.
And as I did, I learned something that both infuriated and astounded me. Not once did they speak of the vampire who took their blood. Not once did they acknowledge what I had done or what they had gone through.
If I thought them crazy at the start, well, this sort of behavior only reinforced that notion. How could any humans not speak of something so transcendent, something so far outside the realm of the ordinary?
And yet, the irony behind all that is that coming across a vampire did not have the expected outcome. Most of them were still alive. The four who died did so because their bodies were too weak to recover from the amount of blood I had taken, not because I had killed during the drink—as is per usual. And as I continued trailing this odd group of humans, I found a sort of… fondness… come over me, for them. Such a ridiculous notion, that. Fondness, for humans?
Might as well admit to being no better than Phillip, in his misguided attempt to hold off the instincts the dark power grants us.
I waited to hear my name. But they acted as if the feast they had granted me never took place. And if there’s one thing I’ve always craved, it’s recognition.
Not to receive any from this group drove me mad.
But still, I waited on the sidelines. I waited to see where they would go. Would they continue on their quest toward The Haven? What could they possibly expect the vampires’ reception of them would be when they found it?
But moreover, and perhaps most of all, how did they know where to look?
So a couple of days passed with me acting as their guardian angel. With all my senses restored, I could easily tell if there were any vampires from the sanctuary making an approach. I’d be warned long before any could sneak up on us.
Not that they would ever find me, given that the cloaking spell still made me essentially invisible.
When the animal predators came close to the humans, I scared them off.
Over time, I found myself becoming more and more attached to the idea of these humans as belonging to me.
Perhaps that sense of ownership was misguided. Perhaps it was a weakness pervading from the source of my feedings. I had never drunk so deeply and not killed. Now, I had all of these humans’ blood mingling around in
side me, and perhaps that was the cause of all these unfamiliar feelings of possessiveness.
It was on the fourth night that I made my return. They were camped around a fire, eating a thin sort of soup. I strolled right into their midst and, without a word, sat down.
Immediately, they dropped their bowls and fell to the dirt floor. My lip twitched in a half-smile. Now I was getting the respect I deserve.
That night I feasted on them once more. And, in the days that followed I learned more and more about the fascinating cult they are all a part of.
“My lord?” Wanda interrupts me from my remembrance. “It would do me great honor if you would take my blood tonight.”
“Your blood has lost its appeal,” I say scathingly. She flinches back. There’s a growing discontent inside me, at what, I don’t know—maybe at being static. I rise up. “All of your blood has lost its appeal,” I announce.
Then, with a harsh twist of my heel, I stride into the darkened woods.
Once I’m out of earshot I start to run. It feels good to have the wind in my face, to know the power of my body. It’s been returned to me, thanks to the Fang Chasers, and for that, I am grateful.
But the emotions are conflicted inside me. I do not want to feel like I owe anybody anything, especially not to a rag-tag group of humans. And yet…
And yet, I cannot help but think what an awful position I might be in were it not for them. Still slithering away on the forest floor, taking what little sustenance I could find from the most pathetic sources of food around me.
It’s because I didn’t kill them, I think. That is the true reason for all this ridiculous angst.
If they were dead, things would be easy. I’d have regained all of my strength. I would not be in anyone’s debt. I’d be fully autonomous, and I could then consider what I had to do next to let myself get ahead…
And make plans for getting back at all those who had wronged me.
I know what Wanda wants. I know what all of her little group wants.
They want the Dark Gift.
They want to be made like me. They want to become creatures of the night, to stalk and hunt and kill and prey upon unsuspecting humans.
They want eternal life.
And they are trying to coax me into giving it. That’s why Wanda keeps offering me her wrist. She hopes it will ingratiate her to me even more.
None of the humans have directly asked me for The Gift. But if what Wanda said was true, and April was once a part of them…
I shiver in memory. Have I been so blind as to truly believe the girl was developing feelings for me? I considered her as nothing more than a distraction, a temporary body to warm the sheets…
But she’d been aiming at something beyond that all along. The whole of our brief relationship, she’d wanted the same thing these humans now want.
That these humans demand?
Certainly they aren’t as presumptuous as that. Like I said, none have explicitly asked for the Gift. And yet…
I come to a jagged stop when I suddenly recognize the spot I’m in. I’ve been running without thinking, letting my mind wander as my legs took me where they may.
I’m looking out at the secret lake where my younger brother once hid his true love.
A torrent of memories threatens to wash over me. The ugly jealousy, the splintering hate. Liana was supposed to be mine. She was supposed to be given to me, as collection of the debt that was owed. As payment for sparing an entire village of humans from a vampire attack.
I was the one who had struck the deal with the human manor lord. I was the one who was supposed to have led the hunt. But a distraction, at the very last minute, by a blonde spitfire of a vampire who invited me to her bed made me forsake the hunt…
I shake my head gruffly and dispel those thoughts. Story of my life, I think. Being taken in by momentary beauty, by a single shining object, only to lose out on what I really want.
I’m short-sighted. I can admit that now. Always, always, always, it was immediate gratification that I was after. Always, it was instant results that called to me.
And so I’d lost out on Liana. And after that, I’d lost out on Eleira. Even though I was the one to turn her, to inject her with the serum that was to slowly make her into a vampire who took after me…
Well. Victoria saw to negating all of that courtesy of her cryptic ritual.
But Liana… I had the last laugh there. I’d done the unspeakable out of greed, out of anger, out of a vile mix of lust and loathing and self-hatred. But it made me feel better, in the end… even though I knew that if Raul found out, his relationship with me would be irrevocably damaged.
But he never did. No one did. None but I know what I was responsible for.
It is a secret I will continue to guard to my dying breath.
Suddenly, it hits me: I am inside The Haven. But where is everybody else?
I open my mind and consciously scan the surroundings. I do not feel another vampire anywhere. The place is abandoned.
That concerns me. Shouldn’t there be guards? Sentries? Somebody posted around the perimeter, now that the wards are down?
I move once in a slow circle. Nothing. The place is abandoned. Granted, this is far from the main hub of activity in the sanctuary… but still.
Something has gone wrong. Something has gone very, very wrong.
An owl calls in the distance, making me turn my head. Ah, I remember how my two brothers loved such sounds of nature. It is one thing they shared that I never had.
To me, such sounds were a distraction—an ugly smear on the smooth canvas of a silent night.
Very carefully, I pick up a loose rock. I take aim at the snow-white creature. I cock my arm back, fling it forward, and let go.
The rock sails smoothly through the air and strikes the bird in the chest. It rips through the owl as a bullet might.
I smile to myself as I watch the bird drop. It won’t be bothering me anymore.
***
I walk back to the group of humans. They fall still as soon as they see me.
“Wanda,” I beckon her to me. “Come here.”
Their leader rises and walks to me. She bows her head in respect. “Yes, my Lord?”
Something about that title grates on my nerves. “First,” I say. “I am not your lord. I am a vampire, and you are a human. We are two distinct species. Calling me your lord implies I have given you leave to do so. I have not.”
“Yes. Of course, I’m sorry,” she murmurs.
“The same goes for all of you,” I continue. “When you address me, you will use my real name. James Soren. If you want,” I add as an afterthought, “you may call me Prince. But only after we achieve what it is I desire.”
“And what is that, my L—James?” Wanda asks.
“Dominion,” I say softly. “Dominion over all creatures and all clans. You recognize that vampires are powerful. But you do not know the full extent of our potential. Few do. What you know of The Haven is of great interest to me. You will tell me when it comes time. But I will say this, my ambitions are much greater than the Queen’s ever were. And for those ambitions to become possible… I will need an army.”
Immediately Wanda’s eyes glaze over, full of lust. “An army of vampires,” she breathes.
“An army of vampires sworn loyal to me,” I tell her. “An army of vampires who know they owe all that they have, all that they are, to me.” My eyes go to each member of the Fang Chasers. “Do you know where I might find such an army?”
The implication in my question is clear enough. The group of sixteen immediately throw themselves to the ground.
“We will be yours,” Wanda vows. “If you but have us.”
“First,” I say, “you have to tell me what you are after.”
“I…” she licks her lips, looking up at me. “We all… want The Dark Gift.”
“And so, it is what I will give,” I announce.
A shiver of ecstasy washes over Wanda.
&n
bsp; “Stand,” I command. I point at a spot on the ground. “All of you, stand. For this to happen, we need to start a fire—one greater than anything these woods have ever known. One that will herald your creation, and one that will announce the beginning of a new coven.” I purse my lips and look to the sky, where all the constellations are clearly visible. “We will be called… The Nocturna Animalia. Latin, for Creatures of the Night. Now hurry.” My eyes blaze into theirs. “The conversion begins before sunrise.”
Chapter Forty
PHILLIP
INSIDE THE HAVEN’S STRONGHOLD
Even though Raul and Eleira have only been gone for a few hours, it feels like days.
I’d had to deal with more upheaval in the last bit of time than I could ever imagine having been necessary. Every vampire, both of the Elite and the Incolam, believed themselves entitled to a personal explanation from me about how two more guards were slaughtered so easily, and what I’m doing to protect the rest.
Discord is growing. The vampires are getting restless. They are tired of being locked up inside with only an uncertain future to look forward to.
I wish I could give reassurance. I wish I could come up with some sort of tantalizing lie, just close enough to the truth that I don’t feel like a crook spinning it.
But such is not in my nature. Control over events is slipping from my hands like fine sand through a sieve.
Thankfully, Smithson has managed to step in and make himself useful.
I did not know what to make of his offer of assistance at first. The vampire is as slippery as a snake. But so far, he’s proven true to his word.
When members of the Royal Court harass me about the Queen’s recovery, or the stronghold’s security, Smithson steps in and offers easy assurances. When the Incolam come up and demand to know how and why the Narwhark is still allowed to roam freely, they see him and remember the gift he gave of Victoria’s blood, and walk away feeling better.
The mere presence of the grizzled former commander seems to make me more worthwhile, somehow, in their eyes.