by R. E. Carr
“Yes, I get it, Grandpa was a slut and we are super-vampires,” Bam-Yin sighed. “Uncle Jaeger got the speed, the strength, and the ‘you will obey my every command’ voice, mom got the ability to hide in any shadows, and Auntie Mina, well, she got the super-slutty mojo. Can we get to the point?”
“Damn it, I agree with him,” Paige snarled.
“Arthur possesses both the power of command and inspiration,” The Jaeger said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “As powerful as my sister and I were, he was always stronger.”
“Oh, really?” Bam-Yin smirked.
“The Jaeger speaks the truth,” Klaus confirmed. “All vampires can influence others, but Arthur, he can command you to do anything, even if it is against your nature. Merlin used him to great effect, until even he could no longer fully resist him. Arthur’s dying request was for Merlin to do everything in his power to bring the king back. It may have taken thousands of years, but it has been done.”
“You’re honestly telling me that this Arthur was so damn strong that he made Merlin dedicate his life to bring him back from the dead?” Bam-Yin scoffed. “That Matsuoka prick—”
“It’s obvious that his current host is still fighting him, but once Arthur is recovered and in control, it will only be a matter of time,” Klaus said. He looked to both Bam-Yin and Steve pleadingly. “I need you both to stay far away from him.”
“Oh, please,” Bam-Yin sighed. “Don’t you dare start this concerned charade, Beast. I am not afraid of some vampire runt, legendary king or not—”
“Quiet!” The Jaeger snapped. Bam-Yin glared at him even as his mouth clamped shut. “You see,” the elder vampire continued. “I can issue simple commands, and you cannot resist. Arthur can do the same, but with even more complexity and have it last for longer.”
“It’s not just the power of command, either. Just like Mina, he can ingratiate himself into your subconscious. The worst part is that eventually, you cannot tell if it was his idea or yours. Part of me wants to serve my old king even to this very day. Did you not see how no one questioned him? Even you, Brynjulf, found yourself drawn to him, just like the old days. Kuleleele, please believe my warnings, even if you hear nothing else that I say.”
Bam-Yin’s eyes changed from red to brilliant green. “Enough! I wouldn’t have had to go to him if you had done your job, Beast. You should have . . . should have protected her. Arthur promised me the truth, the truth about my mother - and deep in my heart, I am sure that when he tells me that truth, it is you I will be hunting. You always were the one that did the dirty work, after all.”
“Enough?” Klaus asked, all traces of calm washed from his face. “You dare to tell me, enough?”
Paige and Steve both tried their best to disappear into the shadows as Bam-Yin and Klaus pushed to their feet. They bared their fangs and leaned toward each other in a threatening posture. Bam-Yin shifted slightly and turned invisible. However, Klaus only had to flick his wrist to grab hold of an unseen fist with a speed equal to, if not faster than, anything Paige could muster. Klaus then twirled his hand and sent the Lung crashing into his chair and flickering into view. The elder vampire leaned over the shocked younger one and hissed.
“I’ve fought werewolves, boy, and the monks that taught you were trained by my disciples. Now sit down, shut up, and listen for a change. Damn it, I expect this juvenile behavior from your brother, but not from you,” Klaus snarled.
“You stopped being my father the day you let Mother die!” Bam-Yin spat.
Steve’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me—” he started to say.
“Shut up, Steve!” everyone snapped. Paige gave the Jaeger a desperate look.
“Silence!” The Jaeger commanded. A lull once more fell over the group.
“You didn’t tell me I had a brother, and that he was a goddamned Lung?” Steve asked.
“I said silence,” The Jaeger repeated, however Steve seemed to shake it off.
“What else aren’t you telling me, Pops?” Steve asked. He rose to his feet now and it was Paige who held him back.
“Silence!”
This time the force of the word was enough to send Steve reeling. Paige grabbed him and helped him to his seat. Steve glared at his father.
“Yes, I will explain everything. Kuleleele here is not only the Lord of the Lung Clan. He is my son by Su Min. It was a long time ago, a better time. We had both left Arthur’s service after . . . after the incident, and he had decided that we would no longer be required in his new empire. He said he would call on us again, so we ran to the furthest reaches of the world. That is why the Lung Clan was founded in what is now Taiwan. We were happy there until the Jiangshi forced us even further away. We finally made a stand on the Korean peninsula. However, our services were required again after Arthur’s death. I returned to Lord Jaeger’s service so that my son and his mother could be safe.”
“After many centuries, I could see that the wars had taken a great toll on my old friend,” the Jaeger interjected. “I offered him freedom and the post here defending the Arce Monstrorum, if he helped me finish the peace accord with the Pendragon.”
“And that’s why you really slept with the Jaeger’s wife? To make the little peace brat, and run away to be a librarian? Somehow that is even more disappointing than what I imagined, and that was you two having a grand Teutonic affair and then you getting shamed by old Brynjulf in a politically-expedient manner,” Bam-Yin said with a little laugh. He stuck out his hand toward Steve. “Hey Little Bro, nice to finally formally meet you. I mean we’re only biologically half-brothers and father technically disowned me—”
The Jaeger didn’t even have to finish the word, “Silence”, for Bam-Yin to shut up this time. He leaned back, apparently taking great joy in the utter hurt on Steve’s face.
“Please, I know this is awkward, but both of you need to listen. I cannot say what needs to be said, but . . .” Klaus trailed off and pointedly looked toward Paige. “But I think there is someone here who can, someone who knows our history but is not quite so tightly bound by our laws.”
All eyes turned toward Paige. As she saw her reflection in Steve’s eyes, it morphed for the briefest of moments into Lorcan. His reflection gave the tiniest of nods.
“It’s time that they hear the truth - the truth about the traitor, Mordred, and what happened at Camlann,” the Jaeger prompted.
“Mordred died, Merlin grabbed a commoner and they turned a dying foot soldier into the next Lord Pendragon, everyone knows that,” Bam-Yin sighed. “Even clueless Steve has heard that story, but he probably heard the one where Arthur somehow miraculously bit the grunt.”
“That’s not what happened,” Paige said softly. “Mordred didn’t die at Camlann.”
“Yes, he did,” Bam-Yin countered. “They sent chunks of him to all the great houses as a warning. Then they ordered us to burn them.”
“Yeah, well they put the remaining chunks back together. The mummy is in Chicago,” Paige blurted out. “And it was only his human body that died at Camlann. Merlin ripped the vampire out of him and shoved it into another host, one that died immediately afterward and Mordred became an ordinary vampire. He changed his name to Lorcan Darcy and led the Pendragon Clan by pretending to be Arthur’s bastard second son. Lorcan is Mordred.”
“Excuse me?” Bam-Yin said with a laugh. “Is this trump the ridiculous story night? You can’t just shove a vampire into a new host . . . Oh, damn it, that is exactly what they did to Arthur, isn’t it?”
Paige let out a deep sigh as Bam-Yin buried his face in his hands. He peeked through his fingers at Klaus.
“So this means that—?” Bam-Yin started.
Klaus nodded. Bam-Yin threw his hands in the air and groaned. “Damn it, do the Pendragons ever just stay dead? You knew, didn’t you, Beast?”
“I have sworn an oath to never tell the truth as to what happened at Camlann,” Klaus said.
“As did I,” The Jaeger admitted. “If it was ever known that the traitor who mu
rdered my brother still lived, I would be asked to kill him.”
“You were at war with the Pendragon Clan for the better part of five centuries, Jaeger,” Bam-Yin deadpanned.
“That was for other reasons, and we followed the rules. We did not kill our own kind,” the Jaeger said glibly.
Paige, in the meantime, stared at the statue of Su Min Lung as Artemis – so like the one she had seen long ago in Chicago. She burst into a fit of giggles, laughing until tears ran from her eyes. “Oh my god, why didn’t it ever hit me?” she muttered to herself. “The Arthurian legend . . . all of it . . . Mordred was the son of Morgana, right?”
“Um, Pipsqueak?” Steve asked, clearly not buying a vowel yet.
“Morgana, Arthur’s sister,” Paige explained. “Well, considering that Mina wasn’t even born yet . . . that means . . .”
Steve still stared at Paige blankly.
“Morgana was just another name for . . .”
“. . . My mother,” Bam-Yin finished. He looked to Steve and explained in a slow, child-friendly voice, “That means that Mordred’s mommy was Su Min Lung and he’s my half-brother, and you’re my half-brother and we are all a dysfunctional little family and Daddy wants us to help because he still wuvs my dear, dead mommy. You got that, Stevie?”
“You are almost right,” Klaus sighed, defeated. “But you two, you aren’t half-brothers.”
“Excuse me?” both Steve and Bam-Yin said at once.
“There is something that you need to know about my sister,” the Jaeger said softly. “Something I discovered only very recently.”
5
“Of all the ways I thought this would play out,” Georgia muttered as she rolled a scroll of parchment around in her hands. “This one never came to mind.”
She picked at the green wax with her fingernail. A bow and arrow was embossed in the middle. She winced as the cut on her finger touched the paper. “What’s done is done and sealed in blood,” she said, doing her best imitation of the Jaeger’s mysterious accent.
Her musings trailed off with a knock on her door. She tossed the parchment on her vanity, double checked that her eyes weren’t too bloodshot, and then opened the door. Nonna Estella stood in the hall with a tray of biscuits and tea.
“May I?” she asked sweetly.
Georgia waved her inside. The aroma of almonds and earl grey intoxicated Georgia. She couldn’t resist snagging an amaretti cookie as the servant whisked by.
“I’m not used to this,” Georgia said. “Thank you.”
“The master has been downstairs for quite some time and our inhuman but living guests seem to be enamored with the gymnasium, so I have no clear idea when supper will be served. I thought it best to bring you tea and refreshments, while the manservants give them buckets of meat.”
“Do I want to know?” Georgia asked.
“I think we’ll have funded our butcher’s retirement by the end of the week. If you are our guests much longer, I’m sure he will be able to buy the castle,” Estella sighed. She then gave Georgia a little wink. “Miss Maria is excited to cook for you though. She hasn’t had the challenge of a vegetarian since the master brought the monks over in the spring. Is there anything else you require, my dear?”
Georgia gave a quick glance toward the parchment. “Is the young master around?”
Estella shook her head. “I am afraid he is detained with the other vampire lords in the library,” she said.
“Other lords?”
“Lord Jaeger and Lord Lung. Oh, I am such a ninny, I was to give you a message from Lord Lung, and I nearly forgot.”
Georgia dropped the second half of her cookie. She paled.
“Bob . . . err Lord Lung . . . is here?” Georgia asked. “He’s actually here—”
“Yes, the master summoned him and the doctor now that there is a truce between the families. I suppose anything is possible in these strange times,” Estella said, pouring Georgia some tea. “I never thought I’d see the day when two Lung and four werewolves were welcomed into the Arce.”
“Two Lung . . . a doctor . . . do you mean Dr. Pang?” Georgia asked. “Please don’t say it’s Dr. Pang.”
“You know of him?” Estella asked innocently. “I’ve heard he’s dreadfully reclusive. Of course, he was a hostage of the Jaeger family for quite some time.”
“I spent some time in Tokyo,” Georgia mumbled noncommittally. “Um, you said that Lord Lung had a message for me?”
“Yes, but it was very strange. He said that he’d be looking for coffee in Florida, I think. …Maybe coffee with Florida? Does that make any sense to you?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” Georgia said.
“You have met the head of both the Lung and the Jaeger clans? I must admit, I have not been so lucky until now,” Estella said. “Still, as powerful as they are, none are as handsome and charming as the scion of House Pendragon. The willpower you must possess to have resisted him!”
“Mr. Lambley?” Georgia gulped. “Yes, that’s me, the queen of willpower.”
Estella gave Georgia a beaming smile. She clasped her hands in front of her chest and sighed as she was lost in thought. “Ah, Paris,” she sighed, before doing a final check on her tea service. “Please, if you need anything, just come to the kitchen. We are at your disposal.”
“Um, can you just point me toward the gym? I’m still feeling all cramped from that boat,” Georgia asked sheepishly. “There wouldn’t happen to be a punching bag would there?”
“Oh yes, of course! The master has both a gymnasium and a dojo. They are through the kitchen, around the courtyard, next to the pool. If you get lost, I’m sure that Pablo will find you.”
Estella left Georgia with her tea. She had a few sips and a cookie before diving into the closet to find some semblance of workout gear. By the time she had changed and slipped out into the hall, a tote bag stuffed with a towel and bottles of water had been thoughtfully left by the door.
“Seriously, I was the worst servant ever,” Georgia muttered as she went exploring. It was easy enough to follow Estella’s instructions, and soon enough, Georgia found herself peering into a state of the art home gym. Nadia lifted weights in the corner, showing off muscles that would have made most men cry with envy. Kayleigh paced on the treadmill, her ubiquitous laptop balanced on the console. Although not breaking nearly as much of a sweat as Nadia, Kaleigh still seemed absolutely devoid of fat. Georgia slipped back out of the room without saying a word.
The next room had a similar setup of crisp white walls and black floor mats, only instead of fancy workout machines and mirrors, this room contained racks of blunted weapons, rows of punching bags and a couple of striking dummies. Georgia cocked her head and watched in wonder as over six feet of blond, scruffy werewolf managed to do a perfect split while stretching his claw tips gracefully to the ceiling. Morgan Blaylock slowly twisted at the waist, keeping his breath ever so steady as he contorted.
“You do . . . yoga?” Georgia blurted out as they finally made eye contact.
“I do a lot of yoga,” Morgan replied as he pushed to his feet. “It helps.”
“With the whole werewolf thing?” Georgia asked.
“And the whole ‘I used to work long hours in uncomfortable office chairs’ thing. Accounting can be murder on the spine.”
“Accounting?” she asked incredulously.
“Last I checked, werewolfing didn’t pay the bills,” Morgan muttered. “Did you need something? I got the impression—”
“We haven’t talked, you know. You want to keep stretching, or . . .?”
“Sure.”
The pair began awkwardly stretching at first. Georgia creaked and was barely able to touch her toes. Morgan ran to the corner and grabbed her a little foam brick. “I’m guessing ancient dead bodies aren’t that flexible either, so there is plenty of modification equipment,” he said.
He helped Georgia through a round of beginner poses, and even managed not to laugh as his little sister fell over w
hile trying to adopt warrior’s pose. She also stumbled as she tried to walk her hands forward on the floor.
“Oh yeah, of course you’d be good at downward dog,” she quipped. Finally, as they finished up with some breathing, Georgia gave him a sideways glance. “Um, yeah, I thought, I should try talking to you. It can’t be any less awkward than farting during child’s pose.”
Morgan snorted. “Not much is worse than that,” he said, chuckling softly. He stared at the ceiling before continuing with, “I figured that everything else in your life seemed pretty messed up, so I shouldn’t push things.”
“You’re not so bad, Morgan. I don’t know a damn thing about you, but you seem pretty OK,” Georgia said equally awkward. “Is there like an FAQ or a tutorial or something on how to interact with your long-lost sibling? Because I couldn’t find one.”
“Maybe Hallmark has a card?” he offered weakly. “Sorry I missed all these years, but they told me you were dead.”
“With like a little puppy on it and some flowers?” Georgia continued.
“Two puppies.”
“Golden retrievers, obviously,” Georgia said, starting to smile her first genuine grin in ages.
“Obviously,” Morgan said, returning the smile but still not daring to make more than the briefest of eye contact. She handed him one of her water bottles and the two had a quick drink as they thought of things to say.
Finally, Georgia blurted out, “I wasn’t avoiding you. I was avoiding everyone. OK, that’s not entirely true. I was really avoiding Steve, but it was easier to be silent. So . . . so, let’s start over. Hi, I’m Georgia Sutherland, and I’m a, err, I was a personal assistant to a vampire.”
She stuck out her hand. Morgan shook it.
“Morgan Blaylock, accountant and piss-poor excuse for a werewolf,” he replied.
They shuffled around in awkward silence again. Georgia occasionally snuck a peek at Morgan – same dark blond hair, same blue eyes, and an eerily similar tendency to fidget. Morgan, however, had inherited chiseled, scruffy good looks that didn’t quite mesh with his big puppy-dog eyes. He also seemed adept at avoiding eye-contact, to the point that Georgia started noticing other little details, like the rows of distinctive puncture scars on his forearms and repeated little slashes closer to the wrists.