Plus having knowledge about her vampyre side was still necessary as she still had the ability to feed even as an immortal. But being immortal, the urges would not overwhelm her as they would if she was not.
He would tell her all of this later. Much later. When the timing suited his advantage better. After he’d figured out some way to make her feed. He needed her to. It was vital to his plan. He needed to gain her trust and come to him for help. To be the only person she could turn to when she failed, and fed…
Juliska sighed. “Let’s play worst case scenario… if I give in and feed, for whatever the reason, will it kill whoever I’m feeding from?”
“That depends entirely on you.”
“If I can stop myself, control myself?”
“Yes.”
She let out a longer sigh. “I will not hurt anyone. I will not kill anyone.” She whispered it, already fearing failure.
“I have confidence in you, Juliska. Whether you have it yet in yourself, or not. This is part of why you’re here. Better to learn how to control these things now, rather than have them surprise you out of the blue, later.”
She nodded. On this, he was right. “Okay. Teach me. Everything.”
“Very well. When we’re finished, you’ll have all the knowledge you need, it will then be up to you…”
“To feed or not to feed… that is the question…” she jested darkly.
He laughed, just as darkly.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yes,” he replied.
“Do you feed? Well, that was dumb, of course you do. You just did.”
“I did, to show you, yes. And before I was immortal, I did. I don’t believe in hiding my history, there’s no point. And although it still gives me a bit of a high, it does not add to my life. So there’s no craving for more.”
“So being immortal, even if you do feed, you can control it easier when you do?”
“Yes. This is true. Being immortal has its benefits…”
He hadn’t planned on telling her, but the curiosity in her tone pleased him.
“So way back when, while the Shogharne were still a clan, how did everyone feed, and not pile up the dead bodies?”
He stopped chopping the carrot in front of him and looked directly at her. “One of the reasons our clan was disliked back then.”
“You killed people?”
“Not on purpose.”
She raised an eyebrow in question.
“We had rules. When we fed we were to take only what we needed to live, and that’s all.”
“How would you have done that? And not been leaving a trail of half dead masses in your wake?”
“We don’t feed often. It’s not like a normal daily meal. Or even weekly. Or monthly.”
“Oh. How often then?”
“Once, maybe twice a year.”
“Oh. Okay, that makes more sense, I guess. Actually, that’s kind of a relief.”
“Don’t let it fool you though. When the urge comes on, it can be nearly impossible to ignore.”
She nodded that she understood. “So what happened if someone did go too far and could not stop? And hurt someone, or killed them.”
“In my clan, you were allowed three offenses. Almost everyone had at least one offense… a casualty. Almost everyone made at least one mistake. We allowed this, knowing it could not be helped. It is our nature, no matter how hard we fight it.”
“And the ones who got to three?”
“A trial. A fair hearing regarding the circumstances surrounding all previous offenses. If they were found innocent… when I say innocent, I mean that the circumstances were beyond their control, they were forgiven the offense. If they were found guilty, they were executed.”
“Oh. Wow. So what made you innocent versus guilty?”
“Typically, the innocent were thrust into an unavoidable circumstance. A life or death type situation. Sudden onset fear or danger. Our natural instincts for self-preservation are strong. And sometimes suffering a severe trauma can set off a spree of insatiable hunger.”
“What kind of trauma?”
“Death of a loved one, for example. Our kind don’t suffer loss often, so when we do, we suffer the effects of this very hard. Or did, when my clan still existed.”
“And those found guilty, what did they do? Just feed for no valid reason?”
“No. On rare occasions, someone might give in to the need and just give up and feed freely, but this was extremely rare. More often than not, they fed for personal gain. For power. For greed.”
“I don’t understand. If you feed to live, how does feeding more lead to any of those things?”
“Because of something I have not told you yet.”
She shrank in her seat. His tone didn’t hold any hope of something positive.
“When a vampyre feeds, and feeds enough, they can take on the abilities and power of the person they are feeding on.”
“And how much is enough?” She feared she already knew this answer.
“Every drop. It means death for your victim. And any special gifts they possessed would be yours. But only for as long as that person’s life force kept you alive. It wanes with time. And so does the ability.”
She took a thick swallow. “So… so,” she stammered. “Say for example, you sucked out my life force, not only would it give you youth and vitality, but it if you took all of it, you’d then also be a Firemancer? Even though typically that could only be a woman thing, since it’s passed down female bloodlines...”
“Yes. I would, and also take in whatever magic you possess as well. I’m sure you’ve been around long enough to see that some people are naturally more powerful or gifted than others. So you can see why this would be a temptation to a vampyre. So again, in the end, it is entirely up to you what you do with your power. It’s not policed anymore. There aren’t enough vampyre left to bother doing so.”
“There’s so much I don’t know. So much I never even realized I needed to know.” She looked straight at Fazendiin. “The reason I’m here… the reason you took me. I get it. Completely. I am potentially dangerous to everyone around me. And I had no idea. If you hadn’t brought me here and showed me all this…” she hated to think of what she might have done. A pile of dead or dying bodies… it’s all she could picture.
He threw all his prepped food into a pot on the woodstove.
“Why don’t you take the rest of the day, Juliska. Process all we’ve discussed so far. Tomorrow, you can ask me all the questions you think up tonight.”
She looked up at him. “Do I ask too many?”
“No. You are free to ask as many questions as you want. I enjoy answering them. You have a keen mind. You always ask the right questions.”
“Thank you,” Juliska told him thoughtfully. “I know so much of this is fulfilling the wishes of my parents, and your loyalty to your clan, but thank you for showing me who I am. What I am. Keeping me from hurting people.”
“It has honestly been my pleasure.”
She got up. “I think I’ll take a walk before dinner. Clear my head a little.”
He nodded and watched her leave.
His consummate student.
Believing all he told her now. He was earning her trust, a little bit at a time.
It was all falling right into place, like game pieces he’d lined up for years, just now getting to make their move.
CHAPTER 14
Months Four and Five…
The autumn leaves were in full color. A mix of oranges, golds, fiery reds, yellows with hints of greens and brown. As beautiful as it was, it meant she’d been with Fazendiin at his estate, four months now. And more than this, it meant all the vibrancy of the season would soon be gone. Replaced by brown ugliness and decay. Followed by months of bitter cold and snow.
It was Juliska’s least favorite time of year.
She had a restless feeling that kept her from sleeping well the previous few nights. Her mind would not relent w
ith the endless thinking and worrying, plus there was something else. Something she could not place. A strange mix of contentment mixed with expectation, was the best way she could describe it to herself. A new world opened up to her, but with it, new problems.
She shivered and tore her gaze away from the window in her room.
Time to stoke the fire. She did, and sat in a chair Fazendiin had brought in for her. She was getting quite comfortable here. But she was okay with this now.
The flames warmed her. Calmed her. But today, gave her no visions. She gazed long, hard and deep… but nothing. She hoped to have a new vision, perchance of her own future. If she returned home, would she end up hurting anyone? And she was also curious as to what was going on with this dead woman, Isabella Crane. But her visions of this woman were always the same. Something about it hinted at the future, not the past. Which made no sense since the woman had died.
Juliska gave up, the flames giving her nothing.
After breakfast, she cleaned her dishes and rejoined her host at the kitchen table.
“More tea?” he asked her.
“Sure. Thanks.” She held out her mug and he filled it for her. “Can I ask you something?”
He grinned.
“Sorry. Here I go with all the questions again.”
“I don’t know why, but I find it humorous and delightful when you do.”
“Grosvenor with a sense of humor. I would have never pulled that out of a hat.”
He rolled his eyes. “What’s your question?”
“I wanted to know… what it’s like. To be you. To be immortal. What does that mean exactly? And seriously… no need to jump across the table and try to suck the life out of me or something…”
He laughed and shook his head. “I assume what you really want to know goes far beyond the fact that I cannot die?”
“Right. I mean, for example, someone comes along and chops off your head, what would happen to you?” She stopped herself. “That might not have been the best example.”
He laughed. Hard. “It’s an interesting example. Shall we try it and see what happens?”
“No! No… I’m just trying to understand how being immortal works. And losing a head, it’s kind of thought of as a permanent one way trip. You know? So that’s how that scenario popped into my head.”
“To answer you honestly, I have no idea what would happen if I suddenly lost my head. Not specifically at least being that I’ve never lost my head. But I will tell you all I do know. But let’s walk. There are few nice days remaining before the long push of winter.”
“Don’t remind me,” she droned.
“Not a fan?”
“No. Much prefer all other seasons.”
She grabbed a sweater and joined him outside. There was a crisp chill to the air, but it didn’t yet have the bite of winter.
“So, being immortal, where to begin…” he trailed off, in thought for a moment. “First, no, it did not hurt when I became immortal. Second, I have been injured, but even with all my years never dealt what might be considered a deathblow, so I do not know what the process would be to remain alive, or come back to life. Third, I do heal quickly from injury.”
“Wow. How did you know I wanted to ask if it hurt?”
“First question anyone ever wants to know? Does it hurt? No one enjoys needless pain.”
“And it really didn’t?”
“No. I seem to recall a bit of a tingle.”
“Okay. And you heal fast, which means if someone tried to kill you, you’d probably just heal. Depending on the severity of your injury, it would just take time.”
“I imagine. Yes. But I’d rather not find out the hard way.”
“Yeah, let’s not cut off your head.”
“I would prefer to keep my head as well. What else would you like to know?”
“Um…” she blew out a breath. “Do you get bored?”
“At times over the years, I suppose yes. But not lately.”
“Do you get… lonely? Why haven’t you ever married? Or had a family?”
He thought about that for a minute. “I had a family. Once. A very long time ago.”
They stopped walking. She let him continue without interruption.
“I had a wife. And a child. A daughter. We had a good life. But then the Stone War started… I’m not going to put the blame on one side or another. If I’m to be honest and frank, my clan was equally at fault as the Svoda. Many were lost in the war. Including my family. Being vampyres meant we could live long lives, but it did not make us immortal, or impenetrable. We could be killed, just like anyone else. Another important thing to remember… even if you feed, you can still be killed, just like anyone else.”
She nodded.
He continued.
“This is why I tried to make my people immortal. Survival. I didn’t want to lose any more of my family. Obviously, it cost me. You know what they say about hindsight. If I could go back I’d do things differently…”
“I’m sorry you lost them.”
“Me too. Even now, I cannot bear to besmirch their memory. I have not been able to create a new family. Could not bring myself to do it. Penance I suppose. My own slow torture… to live forever, without them. In my greed to try to save them, I lost them.”
What he said hit her hard, made her heart heavy and beat fast. This man never ceased to surprise her, or catch her off guard.
Juliska let out a rush of air. “I never once, until these last months, thought or believed for a moment that the Immortal Grosvenor, the sworn enemy of the Svoda, was capable of anything but hate and evil.” She frowned. “I’m sorry I thought that.”
“You believed what you were taught. What you read in your history books. And not all of it was wrong. We did our share of terrible things. The Svoda too. My mother…” he reminded.
It was nearly impossible to hide the grin wanting to form… Juliska was like clay in his hands. Clinging to his every word, no longer concerned if it were truth, or lie.
“I guess there’s a lot I didn’t know,” she spoke dejectedly.
“It’s not all the Svoda’s fault. Much of history has been skewed over the years. I only know this because I’ve lived all those years and experienced most of this history first hand.”
“God, that’s hard to imagine.”
“Don’t try. It boggles even my mind. Now, Juliska, I have a question for you.”
“Um, okay.”
“Forget your past. Forget your time here. Forget being a Firemancer. If you had the choice to do anything in this world, anything at all, what would it be?”
She just bit her lip looking befuddled.
“You have choices, Juliska. That’s all I’m really trying to show you. When you leave here…” he let that sink in for a second. “You can do whatever you want with your life. It is your choice.”
“What if I don’t know what that is?”
“Then you go find it.”
The thought seemed foreign to her. “I’m a Firemancer. A seer. An apprentice in line to be the next seer to the Banon of the Svoda.”
“If that’s what you want…”
Is it? She had no idea. She’d never even thought about choosing a different life. She was a seer. The Svoda had trained her for that job. They’d never asked her once if she liked it, or wanted to do it. It just… was.
“I’m going to let you think on this for a little while.” Fazendiin left her alone to ponder what he’d said.
If she chose not to return to the Svoda, what did that mean exactly?
Where would she go? Or live? What would she do?
The thought of not seeing Eddy again nearly crippled her. He owned her heart, completely.
Even with months spent apart, she wanted a life with him. This meant returning to the Svoda.
If she did, would they allow her to choose her own future? If she decided she no longer wanted to be a seer, in line to serve the Banon, would they let her choose something else?
Would they even go so far as to refuse to allow her to quit? And force her into a life of servitude to the Banon? It never felt forced. Expected maybe. But not like she was a slave with no will whatsoever.
However, returning home suddenly left a constricting force around her heart. Part of her missed the simplicity of her old life. The routine. Knowing what to expect, and what was expected of her. But maybe this was because she’d never experienced anything else.
Juliska got a chill and wandered back inside.
Fazendiin had started a fire in the study but was not in the room.
She sat down and instantly, the flames pulled her in. Another vision. A different vision. Well, the same one really, but changed a little.
When it ended, Juliska sat quietly for a long time. It was definitely the present or the future. Not the past. Which meant for some reason, this woman everyone believed dead, was not.
In this vision, Isabella had been speaking to someone, about her past, about the family she had left behind. The conversation escalated into an argument. Juliska was unable to see who Isabella was arguing with, but she guessed it was not her husband. Or any of the Svoda…
So, what? She’d faked her own death? For what purpose?
She was about to give birth in this vision… the argument had surrounded this subject. Isabella was worried there was something wrong with the child, and too afraid to have the child without medical help. Why would she not have help?
The vision made no logical sense.
Juliska let out a groan. A wave a nausea washed through her.
“What keeps causing this? It’s so sporadic. It goes away for days and then just shows up out of the blue.”
Was she sick?
Was it guilt? For wanting to be here. For not trying harder to go home?
She wasn’t afraid anymore. It wasn’t fear.
That was not entirely true. Her fears were just new fears. Mainly over her future and hoping she could control her vampyre side. She’d never been concerned about her future before. It had been all laid out for her. Now, it seemed, it was whatever she wanted to make it.
The Ghost, The Dragon, and The Lost King (Fated Chronicles Book 4) Page 16