by C. M. Sipes
Vittoria growled, her fangs descending as she stared at her maker.
She felt Emma jump slightly at the sound she made, and she internally winced. She didn’t want to frighten the girl, but the situation was not ideal. She pulled on Emma’s hand, bringing her to stand next to her. Vittoria’s eyes met Emma’s own, and the girl gasped as she took in Vittoria’s appearance.
“Your eyes,” she began, “they’re red.” She reached up to Vittoria’s face, tentatively touching her cheek as she looked at her eyes.
“As much as I hate to interrupt this moment,” Marcella stated. “I need you to accompany me to the coven, Vittoria. Please.”
“For what purpose?” Vittoria asked, looking away from Emma.
“I need you present for a council with Aerona,” Marcella replied. “I am not leaving without you. I need you. The coven needs you.”
“And you will do what? Forcefully drag me there?” Vittoria laughed loudly. “You aren’t strong enough, Marcella.”
Her eyebrows rose in amusement. “I am older than you. I created you. You are a foolish girl to think that you would be able to stop me.”
Vittoria laughed again. “You are just as cruel as ever. Have you not changed at all in the past four hundred years?”
Emma took in a breath behind Vittoria and she could feel her body tense up.
“Vittoria, I am asking you nicely,” Marcella replied, standing taller as her minions shifted their positions. “I will use the girl as leverage if I have to.”
Vittoria growled. “You will do no such thing. I have spent the past four hundred and fifty-two years out of your life, Marcella, and for good reason. Do not think that you can just waltz in and take whatever you please.”
Vittoria heard one of the minions growl. She scanned the alleyways with her eyes, and then the rooftops. There were only four vampires, five counting Marcella.
She drew a breath…waiting.
She heard the whoosh a second after and she spun quickly, her hand grasping the throat of one of Marcella’s minions. Vittoria dug her nails in and tore, ripping the throat from his body as he fell lifeless to the ground, dissolving into dust.
Marcella’s eyebrows rose in amusement and Emma’s breathing increased, as well as her heart rate.
Vittoria turned to look at her. “Sit. Please. Before you fall and hurt yourself.”
She nodded and sat against the side of a building, watching as Vittoria dropped the man’s throat to the ground, joining the rest of the dust pile.
“Marcella, you’ll be out of guards soon,” Vittoria said smoothly, her eyes finding her maker’s.
Vittoria watched her closely, waiting for any flicker of movement.
Marcella’s eyes flashed to Emma and Vittoria ran at her as fast as she could. The elder vampire almost avoided Vittoria’s grasp, but Vittoria grabbed her arm and threw her into the nearest building. Brick and dust tumbled to the ground in a wave as Marcela’s body collided with the wall. Vittoria slammed into her, trapping her body against the rubble as Marcella growled and thrashed against her. She pressed her forearm against Marcella’s neck, keeping her from fighting too much.
“Let me go, Vittoria,” she snarled, red eyes blazing.
“You shouldn’t have threatened me, Marcella. Nor threaten anyone I care for. Do you understand?” Vittoria listened as a minion approached Emma, her eyes flickering to the side and then back to Marcella. “Call them off.”
Marcella looked at her guards and nodded, signaling them to back away from Emma.
“I was going to come to you,” Vittoria whispered, her voice cracking slightly. “I was going to come back to the coven and help you—albeit briefly—but I was coming back, and of my own free will.”
Marcella’s eyes bled slightly as she listened. “Vittoria—”
“No,” Vittoria cut her off, pressing her arm into Marcella’s throat with more force. “You can all go to hell. I will have no part in your matters.”
Vittoria released her and turned her back, walking back to Emma and helping her stand.
“Vittoria, please. The situation is more severe than you know.”
Vittoria stopped, turning to look at her maker. “Bloodlusters and devourers are working together? Killing together?” Vittoria asked, watching as surprise flittered across Marcella’s face.
She nodded. “I suppose you have some idea then.”
“I don’t know all the facts. But I do know that it is no longer my concern,” Vittoria replied as she wrapped an arm around Emma’s waist, keeping her from swaying.
“Vittoria, please,” Marcella pleaded, taking a step closer to them.
“Leave!” Vittoria roared angrily as blood leaked from her eyes; watching as Marcella winced.
Marcella nodded before turning and disappearing into the swarm, taking flight in the night sky. Her minions ran after her, across the rooftops, eventually disappearing from sight.
“I’m going to pass out,” Emma muttered, falling unconscious in Vittoria’ arms. She sighed as she lifted and carried Emma bridal style back toward the apartment.
She needed to sleep.
Vittoria awoke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee, and what smelled like pastries. Her nose crinkled at the aroma, her forehead creasing in confusion. She began to wonder where the coffee and pastries had come from, considering she didn’t keep any on hand. She heard the bedroom door creak open and the blinds being shifted. Vittoria winced in preparation for the sun to hit her skin, but the sting never came. Instead, she cracked open her eyes, immediately narrowing in on Emma.
“Morning, sunshine,” Vittoria said groggily as she sat up and brushed her hair away from her face.
Emma raised an eyebrow, an amused smile playing on her lips.
“It’s eight o’clock in the evening. The sun set about half an hour ago,” she replied softly. “I went out and bought some coffee and food, I noticed that you didn’t have anything to eat. Well…human food anyways.”
“I take it you found my stash,” Vittoria replied, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and standing.
“It was a little hard to miss the bags filled with blood in the fridge.”
She smirked. “Very observant of you. Have you eaten?”
Emma shook her head and Vittoria breezed by her, exiting the room and heading to the kitchen. She grabbed two mugs from the cupboard and filled them with coffee.
“Do you take cream or sugar?” she asked, her body turning to glance at Emma.
“Just cream.”
Vittoria nodded and opened the fridge, noticing that Emma had bought the cream as well. She added the cream to the coffee and grabbed two plates, throwing a freshly baked croissant on each before digging through the cupboard to find butter and jam. Vittoria didn’t keep much human food in the apartment, for obvious reasons, but that didn’t stop her from occasionally purchasing some minor things just in case.
“I’m surprised you even have jam and butter,” Emma said quietly, taking the mug of coffee with a soft ‘thank you.’
“Well,” Vittoria began, buttering each croissant and adding jam. “We are able to eat human food. Small amounts, of course. I can drink some coffee and eat a croissant, but it doesn’t satiate me.”
“I assume then that you’re going to talk to me about what happened last night?” Emma asked, taking her croissant and eagerly biting into it.
Vittoria made her way back around the counter and sat at the breakfast bar, taking a bite out of her own pastry.
“Yes,” Vittoria replied simply, taking a swig of her black coffee.
“Why are you eating? If it does nothing for you, I mean,” Emma asked, taking the seat next to Vittoria.
“To make you feel comfortable,” she replied with a small smile. “Even after last night, this is all incredibly new to you and I don’t wish to…traumatize you.”
“By drinking blood.”
“Yes.”
“Even though I’ve already seen the dozen or so bags in the fri
dge,” Emma commented with a nervous laugh.
“Yes. Especially because of that.” Vittoria smiled, taking another swig of coffee.
“When you’re finished, if you want to eat properly, you can,” Emma began. “After last night and seeing the things I saw, I think I can handle you drinking some blood.”
“You have a surprisingly strong stomach for a mortal.”
“Yes, do tell. What is immortality like?” Emma asked with a smirk. Vittoria found herself smirking slightly as well, even though she could tell Emma was attempting to hide her nervousness.
Vittoria frowned. Her eyes fell to the cup of coffee, watching the dark liquid steam as she stared at.
“It is lonely, and long. Well…it can be,” Vittoria replied quietly. She glanced up, her green eyes meeting blue and holding the look for a moment. “Don’t get me wrong though, I quite enjoy being what I am,” Vittoria said sincerely.
“How long have you been alive?”
“You mean, how long have I been dead,” Vittoria corrected. “I was born in Verona, Italy in 1325 A.D. I was twenty-two years old when my maker turned me. I had befriended her and shortly after, I caught the plague.”
Emma’s eyes widened, and the intensity in her gaze made Vittoria chuckle.
“That’s why I had mentioned that fate has a cruel sense of humor when we had chosen the plague as our topic.”
“Did you have the buboes?”
“No. Thankfully I hadn’t developed them yet. I just had the fever. But the sickness was spreading rapidly, and my maker offered me immortality. I was only twenty-two, I didn’t want to die yet.”
“The woman from last night. She is—”
“My maker, yes. Marcella Camelius, Roman, born in the year 34 A.D. in Roma.”
“She’s that old?” Emma asked, shock lining her voice.
“Indeed she is. She is ancient.”
“Vittoria, I hope you don’t mind if I ask but—what happened between you two?”
“We had a falling out.”
“I gathered that much.”
“It’s a long story.”
“I’d still like to hear it—if you’ll tell me. I already know what you both are, but I don’t understand a lot of this. I’m not exactly an expert on the supernatural.”
Vittoria nodded before meeting her eyes once more.
“I’ll give you a basic synopsis,” she began, “Marcella and I are essentially monarchs, within the vampire community. They are our subjects and we are their Queens. Each Queen chooses an heir to run the coven once they die, vanish, or willingly leave. Marcella had gone uncharacteristically long with no heir. She had told me that it was because she hadn’t found anyone that she was drawn to enough. Queens are much stronger and faster than other vampires, and our eyes turn red instead of the brighter version of our naturally colored eyes. We also have the ability to transform into a swarm of bats.”
Emma’s eyes were wide with wonder as she listened, her head bobbing occasionally in understanding.
“There are vampires that have gone mad, we call them ‘bloodlusters.’ What causes this is drinking past the point of death. Once the heart stops, we must stop. If we continue, we go insane and constantly crave blood, no matter how much we have fed. Do you understand everything so far?”
Emma nodded and swallowed thickly, her hand running through her hair in a nervous mannerism.
“Are there a lot of you?”
“Hundreds of thousands.”
“And only one Queen? Well—two.”
“Yes. There are separate covens, which are the equivalent of noble houses. But, there is only one supreme coven, which is the equivalent of the king’s castle,” Vittoria explained, taking another swig of coffee.
“I see,” Emma replied. “So how long has it been since you had seen Marcella?”
“I hadn’t seen her since 1563 in England.”
“Why so long?”
“That is the long story.”
Emma nodded and stood. She paced back and forth, occasionally stopping as her mind attempted to catch up. She would pause; then turn, and look as if she was about to speak, then resume her pacing once more. Vittoria watched in silence, waiting for Emma to calm.
“Okay so, this is a lot to take in. I’m still trying to process the fact that you don’t only exist in the movies. I mean, supernatural beings are real, that is so messed up!” Emma ranted for a moment before she stopped and looked at Vittoria. She took a deep breath before speaking, “Okay, as weird as all this is, I’d like to hear the story.”
Vittoria’s eyebrows rose in surprise. She was sure Emma would have bolted from the apartment. “You seem to be handling this remarkably well.”
“Well, I’m a part of this now, no matter how unintentional or fucked up. I know what’s out there. Besides,” Emma took a deep breath, “I always had a feeling some weird shit was out there. Being a historian and all, we read some weird stuff—I mean, there has to be some truth to it, right?”
“My dear, you have no idea,” Vittoria replied with a laugh. “But if you really want to know, then I’ll tell you.” She stood and walked to the fridge, pulling out one of the bags of blood and throwing it in the microwave for a minute.
She poured the contents into a large mug and took a healthy gulp, sighing as the metallic taste filled her mouth.
“How often do you need to eat?” Emma asked.
Vittoria turned to face her and grinned at the gasp her appearance drew from Emma.
“It is a tad shocking isn’t it,” she commented before taking another swig of the thick liquid. “Fledglings need to feed at least twice a day for the first few months. Afterwards, we can go a few days without eating if need be, but once a day is preferable.”
Emma nodded in understanding, but her hands fidgeted nervously at her sides.
“So, are you ready for my long tale?” Vittoria asked.
She nodded once more and gave an encouraging smile before returning to her seat. Emma took a deep breath. “Lay it on me.”
“My story begins in London, England in 1562. Marcella and I had successfully moved the coven there from Barcelona, Spain. We had been in England for eight years when I met someone. Meeting her set events in motion that I had never dreamed would come to fruition.”
“Who?” Emma asked, her forehead creasing in confusion.
“Her name was Isabel,” Vittoria whispered. “She had the same eyes as you, and her hair was the color of chestnuts. She worked in an apothecary—family trade. Bright, kind, intelligent, but she had a bit of a temper as well.”
“She sounds lovely,” Emma said softly.
Vittoria’s eyes turned to look at Emma and she could feel the hot liquid of blood seep from her right eye.
“She was.”
Chapter III
London, England
September 1562
The first thing Vittoria had noticed when they arrived in London was the unbearable stench that permeated the air. Fecal matter littered the streets as people emptied their chamber pots through their windows, dumping them onto the ground. Spain was just as filthy, but for whatever reason, the smell there did not blind the senses as harshly as London.
They had been in the city for eight years now, having successfully moved the coven from Spain. They usually remained for forty years, unless the locals would get particularly suspicious. However, neither in France, Germany, or Spain did they have to flee early. Unlike their time in the Kingdom of Hungary, which Vittoria was grateful for, as moving an entire coven was taxing work. The coven had been in Hungary the longest, a total ninety years before their move to the Kingdom of France. They had begun building the coven house in London, on the outskirts with sizeable acreage, just ten years prior to their move.
Marcella strode next to her, her simple gold dress barely skimming the cobblestone road. Her hair was pulled up and away from her face, accentuating her cheekbones and jawline. Vittoria’s own attire resembled Marcella’s—a green dress, and hair pu
lled back and away from her face in a typical up-do for the time.
Vittoria sighed to herself as they walked, catching the smirk that appeared on Marcella’s face as she heard her exasperation.
“Go on. Ask,” Marcella said simply, smirking to herself as they weaved between the nighttime crowds. The majority was made up of men venturing to and from the pubs, as well as prostitutes lurking near the alleyways and dark corners of the streets.
“What are we doing? We have done this walk multiple times for the past few weeks and you have refused to explain why,” Vittoria replied, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips.
“Patience my child,” Marcella answered. A low growl rumbled in Vittoria’s chest at Marcella’s response, earning an eye roll from her. “Perhaps you should feed. Maybe you’ll be in a better humor afterwards.”
Vittoria stopped in her tracks and quickly scanned the alleyways. Not wasting any time, she quickly walked to the nearest where a lone prostitute lingered.
“Evening,” she greeted. Her eyes looked Vittoria up and down, curiosity evident in her gaze.
“Evening,” Vittoria replied with a smirk. Her eyes locked with the prostitute’s and held her stare, carefully moving closer like a predator approaching its prey. “Care to take a walk with me?”
She nodded slowly before closely following Vittoria deeper into the darkness.
Vittoria glanced behind and looked at Marcella, who shook her head in amusement before turning and approaching a nearby stranger, no doubt to feed as well. Vittoria turned back around and moved deep enough into the alley that a mortal would have to come inside and approach them to even see what was happening.
“So pretty, no wonder you chose this life,” she said softly, approaching the woman and standing close enough that their noses almost touched. “You smell delicious.”
The woman’s forehead creased in confusion and her mouth opened to speak. The young Queen’s mouth latched onto her neck in a flash, a growl ripping through her chest as her fangs pierced her flesh and blood seeped into her mouth. She drank greedily, basking in the soft whimpers that escaped her lips. She tore her mouth away suddenly, forcing herself to stop drinking before she killed her. Vittoria looked at her face, frowning slightly at the paleness.