Taboo (A Tale of the Talhari Book 1)

by Heather Elizabeth King

  “This is our library,” Alaric explained, leading Sydney out the far side and down a hall to the left.

  They went up two flights of stairs and down another hall until they reached a door at the far end.

  “This is the Superior General’s office,” Alaric explained.

  “He’s like your president?”

  “Something like that. She’s going to decide if you can stay permanently or not. Today, she just wants to speak with you. Very informally.”

  “She.” Sydney grimaced. “How sexist of me.”

  “You ready?”

  Sydney nodded.

  “Right now?”

  In answer, Alaric knocked twice on the door, then pushed it open when a voice from within told him to enter.

  Sydney stepped into the room behind Alaric. A large mahogany desk dominated the room, while mahogany bookcases, overflowing with books, sat opposite. Large picture windows looked out onto the rear yard and the mountains beyond, giving a view that was breathtaking. Everything in the room, from the knickknacks to the plush oriental carpet, told Sydney that the Superior General had expensive tastes and enjoyed the finer things in life.

  The Superior General herself was an older woman, probably in her sixties, with perfectly coiffed salt and pepper hair. She wore light makeup, but in all honestly didn’t need any. Sydney could tell that in her heyday, she’d been a traffic stopper.

  She was dressed fashionably, going for vibrant colors instead of boring navy blues like many women in her position may have done. This alone made Sydney like the woman at once.

  “I’m Clarisse Stone, but most people here refer to me as The SG. Please, have a seat.” She indicated a leather sofa to the right of her desk. “Alaric tells me you’ve had an interesting few days.”

  Sydney smiled. “To say the least.”

  “Would you like anything to drink?”

  Sydney considered. “My drinking tastes have changed over the last day or so.”

  “I understand. You know, you can eat and drink regular food if you need to blend in. It won’t harm you.”

  “But if my body is no longer human, if my digestive system isn’t working anymore, how can I?”

  “Oh, it works,” she said simply, then pressed a button on a small box on her desk. “Jessica, we need three drinks.”

  Sydney looked at Alaric, seated beside her, who merely inclined his head.

  He looked relaxed so she figured she could relax, too.

  “Tell me about your experiences,” the SG said.

  The door opened and a young woman who Sydney guessed must be Jessica, appeared with a tray. Three crystal glasses sat atop it, each glass filled with a red, viscous fluid.

  Jessica offered the tray to the SG, who took a glass, then she offered it to Alaric. Alaric took the remaining glasses, passing one to Sydney. “It’s okay,” he said.

  “Blood?” she asked.

  “Blood,” he agreed.

  “You have so much of it that you serve it in crystal glasses?” Sydney asked. “Where does it come from?”

  “A pure nature,” the SG said. “Perhaps there’s promise for you.”

  Alaric drank from his glass then indicated she should drink from her own. Neither answered her question.

  Seeing no alternative, she lifted her glass to her mouth and tipped it toward her lips, slowly, almost afraid of what would happen once the fluid reached her tongue.

  She shivered a bit at the first contact. It wasn’t bad. Actually, it was good. Not as good as Saul’s blood, but still good.

  She drank some more and felt strength she hadn’t realized she’d lost, returning to her limbs.

  “This is why we can remain pure,” the SG explained. “We have no need to walk the streets, devouring human prey.”

  “But where does the blood come from?” Sydney asked again.

  The SG smiled, “All in good time. First, I want you to tell me what happened to you.”

  Sydney went over everything that had happened with Saul, leaving nothing out. When she was finished, she didn’t know exactly what she’d been expecting. The divulging of all secrets perhaps, entry into the most secret of places at the motherhouse. Something. What she got was a nod and a thanks.

  “I have to think on this. Call the elders to meet.” She regarded Sydney over her desk, her chin resting on tented fingers. “Thank you for agreeing to speak with me.”

  “What now?” Sydney asked.

  “For now, Alaric will take you to a bedchamber where you can rest and get settled in for the night.”

  “What about the vampire…” she wasn’t sure how to describe it so she said, “…stuff? I want to know more about what I am.”

  She nodded. “In good time you will. Alaric will see to that.” She looked to Alaric. “You say she’s a historian?”

  “She is,” Alaric agreed.

  “Perhaps she’d make a good replacement for Quinton.” The SG pushed back from her desk and got to her feet. “But for now, let Alaric take you up to your rooms so you can get settled.”

  Seeing no alternative, Sydney rose with Alaric and allowed herself to be shuttled from the office.

  As soon as they were in the corridor she turned on him.

  “So she’s sending me up to my room for more waiting. What is it with you people and locking me up?”

  “We’re not locking you up. You’re free to explore.”

  “And what will you be doing?”

  They returned to the staircase and started up.

  “I have to see to things.”

  She raised her eyebrow at that. “What exactly does that mean?”

  He looked at her over his shoulder. “You’ll be sleeping on the fourth floor.” They walked down a hallway then stopped in front of a wooden door. “This is where you’ll be staying while you’re here.”

  He pushed the door open and she nearly fell over at her first sight of the room, or rather, suite of rooms. It was like an upscale, luxury hotel with every conceivable amenity. A sitting area compete with flat screen television, a lavish bed with heavy quilts. He showed her to a room off the bedroom where a gleaming laptop sat on a desk. Bookcases sat opposite the desk, overflowing with books. Every window looked out to the mountains.

  “This is gorgeous.”

  He nodded. “You should be comfortable here.”

  “The Queen of England would be comfortable here.”

  He didn’t say anything else, only looked at her in that way that made her forget her own name.

  “Where do you sleep?”

  “I sleep down on the second level.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s where all Talhari warriors sleep. We have to be near to an exit. The first floor is comprised of the library, kitchens, dining hall and offices.”

  “What floor am I on?”

  “This is the floor of the historians and librarians. This is why you have an office with a small library, a state of the art laptop, and research material. There’s a gym on the second floor, where the warriors train.”

  “This place is incredible. I can’t believe it’s been here in my city all this time and I never knew it existed.”

  “There are many things that have been in your city all this time that you never knew existed.”

  “Clearly.”

  She saw her suitcase had been placed beside the bed. She stared down at it for a few moments, then inexplicably, burst into tears.

  Alaric’s eyes nearly doubled in size. She would have laughed had she not been so sad.

  He came forward, then paused. “What? What’s wrong?”

  “All of this. It’s all too much.”

  “No, don’t do that. Don’t cry.” He slipped his arm over her shoulder, holding her. Needing the comfort, she leaned into his warmth.

  “I can’t help it. Everything…my entire world has fallen apart. It’s not even safe for me to sleep in my own house anymore.”

  He squeezed her. “It’s going to be okay, Sydney. I promis
e.”

  “How can you promise me anything when you can barely stand to look at me anymore?”

  He didn’t have a ready response.

  She pushed away from him and wiped at her wet face. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what came over me, it’s just everything suddenly hit me. It all just hit me. Cora’s death, the fact that I’m not human anymore, these things in Lynchburg killing. It’s just all so overwhelming and awful. And I’m terrified.”

  He pulled her closer again. The good scent of masculine soap and aftershave made her press her face against his throat and inhale the wonderful smell of him.

  “You’re safe now,” he said, murmuring into her hair. “You’re here and you’re safe. I promise you.”

  “But what about everyone else? All of Lynchburg is in danger. We have to find a way to destroy these creatures. What are they? Where do they come from? We still don’t know anything about them except that they belong to Saul.”

  He squeezed her. “Don’t think about that right now. Let me worry about that.”

  “How can I not think about it when people are dying?”

  He pulled back, gave her a weak smile, then wiped her tears with the pad of his thumb. “Okay. I know you can’t not think about it. That was stupid to say. But try not to worry. We’re going to be all right. A promise. This is what the Talhari does.”

  “Stop promising. You can’t make a promise like that.”

  “I promise,” he said more firmly.

  She sniffled and took in a deep breath.

  “And what about you? Since last night you’ve been behaving like I have the Black Death. I didn’t want this to happen to me. Why are you so angry at me?”

  “I’m not angry.”

  “You are angry. You barely look at me.”

  For long minutes he stared at her. Then, sighing, he looked away. “I better go,” he said at last.

  “Just like that?”

  “There’s stuff that needs to be done.”

  She pulled away from him. “Fine. Go.”

  And all too soon he was gone.

  She spent some time looking around her rooms. She browsed the books, not surprised that most were on the occult, creatures, and folklore. The laptop was truly state of the art. It made her own look woefully inadequate.

  How could the Talhari afford so much opulence? Where did their money come from?

  In the bathroom she considered the large soaking tub and promised herself a long bath once all this was done. But that thought led to another. How long did she have to stay here? Forever? What would happen to her house? Could she stay in a place like this? She supposed if she truly was immortal now she couldn’t live in her house forever. People would begin to wonder why she never aged. Was this why so many Talhari lived in the motherhouse? And just how many motherhouses were there? From what Alaric had said, she assumed there was more than one.

  On the night table she spied a menu with a number at the top. Room service.

  She considered ordering tea, but discarded the idea. Also, she wasn’t sure why a house that housed vampires needed a kitchen. Perhaps they had human guests from time to time. Then she remembered Alaric eating the meal she’d prepared.

  She sat on the bed for a while, bored, before she remembered that Alaric had told her she could explore the house. So she decided that’s what she’d do. Go out and see what was what.

  She went into the hall and made her way to the stairs they’d come up. She didn’t think she’d be able to see everything, was sure much of the house would be off limits to her, but she could see the library.

  She stepped into the large space, marveling anew at the size and number of books that must be contained in this room. She stared up at the wrought iron rails in wonder. Four sets of steps led up, a stairway at each corner of the room. Rows of long tables were centered on the main floor, as well as sofas and armchairs scattered cozily around the room.

  She didn’t even know where to start. There were so many books. How were they categorized? Did each floor have a different topic?

  “Can I help you find something?”

  She started at the unexpected voice.

  A man came to stand in front of her. Like Alaric, he was tall with long blonde hair, although his face was scarred. Three long scratches marred his right cheek. He was dressed in simple black jeans and a black tee-shirt. He didn’t look like a vampire, but she knew since he was here he must be one.

  “We’ve got this, Trevor.”

  Sydney recognized Trina’s voice.

  Sure enough, Trina and Rhonda were coming toward her. They’d changed into jeans, sneakers and tee-shirts and looked more relaxed than they had since she’d met them.

  Trevor disappeared into the stacks.

  “So you live here?” Sydney asked once they were close enough.

  “Yeah,” Rhonda said. “It’s easier to stay here. There are fewer questions.”

  “We all have our own places, as well,” Trina added, “places we can go when we want to get away, but eventually we have to sell. Me, I keep a house in Nassau.”

  “In the Bahamas?”

  “Yeah. And Rhonda has a condo in London.”

  “So you don’t have to be here all the time?”

  “No.” Rhonda settled a hip on one of the long tables. “We get time off, too. Too much work equals burn out.”

  “But most of the time you’re here?”

  “We keep an eye on things—”

  “By we she means the Lynchburg motherhouse.”

  “Yeah,” Rhonda agreed. “We keep an eye on things in Central Virginia and Maryland. That’s our quadrant. Nothing much typically happens south of DC, but we’re on top of it if it does. Like this situation, for example.”

  “The rest of the time you’re here? In the motherhouse?”

  “We’re not prisoners. We can go out when we want to,” said Trina.

  Rhonda stood from the table. “Did Alaric show you around?”

  “No. We met with the SG, then he took me to my room.”

  “Fourth floor?”

  Sydney nodded.

  “So, if you decide to stay with us and if the SG approves it—which I can’t imagine she wouldn’t—you’ll be spending a lot of time in the library.”

  “But there are other things to see,” Trina said, heading out the way they’d come in.

  “Come on,” Rhonda said.

  Sydney followed.

  The main floor was massive. The kitchen staff was large and lived on site. She saw they had two lavish, ultra-modern conference rooms, a number of offices, and a cafeteria that looked more like an upscale restaurant than any cafeteria she’d ever been in. The décor throughout the motherhouse, in fact, was lavish and upscale. They hadn’t spared a dime.

  “We’re not cursed so we can eat,” Rhonda explained. “I still love the taste of food, only now, I never gain weight.”

  It took them nearly an hour to show her everything on floors two through four, but when they had, Trina announced it was time to go to the basement.

  “Is the basement the same size as the main level?” Sydney asked.

  “Pretty much,” said Rhonda. “It’s the same length and width, if that’s what you mean.”

  “What’s down there?” Sydney asked as she followed them from the library into the rear hall.

  “The basement,” said Rhonda. “This is where we house captors, interrogate, and—”

  “You mean you have prison cells down there?”

  “Yeah, prison cells, though the SG prefers the term containment chambers.”

  They stopped at a bank of elevators and Trina pushed the down button. “Better to take the elevator,” she explained.

  “So how old is this place?” Sydney asked.

  “Old,” said Trina. “As far as I know, it was here in eighteen hundreds.”

  The elevator dinged then the metal doors slid open. Sydney followed them into the elevator then waited for Trina to press the B button.


  It didn’t take long to reach the basement. A few seconds and the elevator stopped and the doors were sliding open again.

  “Here we are,” Rhonda announced, stepping out and into a brightly lit hall.

  It was sterile, looked more like a hospital corridor than it did a basement, but Sydney supposed if they questioned and kept prisoners down there that made sense.

  “Just so I understand how things are,” Sydney said, following them down the hall and passed a series of doors, “the prisoners aren’t what you’d call human?”

  Trina looked at Sydney over her shoulder. “Nope. Not even a little.”

  “And you guys don’t mind living above monsters?”

  “Undesirables. And they’re secure.”

  They showed her a few of the interrogation rooms. From the look of the rooms and the implements she’d seen within, Sydney didn’t want to imagine the kind of interrogation that went on in them.

  “Does Alaric do the interrogating?” Sydney asked.

  “No. That’s not a job for warriors. We have trained interrogators.”

  “Let’s show her the hall,” Rhonda said.

  Grinning, Trina nodded.

  “What hall?” Sydney asked.

  “You’ll see,” said Rhonda.

  And she did. The hall was a large, open room filled with…stuff. Lots and lots of stuff. The glimmer of the overhead lights reflected off of what had to be hundreds of display cases.

  “What is all this?” Sydney asked.

  “History,” Trina said. “Everything around you was collected by a Talhari historian. Everything, down to the smallest object, is supernatural.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The objects hold power.”

  Sydney looked around the room, her eyes growing wide. The cases held statues, and shields, weapons, and paintings. “This is incredible. It’s like your own personal museum. Is that a Bosch painting?”

  “Didn’t I say she’d love it down here,” Rhonda said.

  “You did,” agreed Trina. “And yes, that is a Hieronymous Bosch.”

  “Fall of the Damned. A copy?”

  “Nope.”

  “But the original is supposed to be in Venice.”

  “It was in Venice, but this painting is a curiosity. People who touch it are transported…we’re not sure where. We just know the painting is a sort of doorway. It’s still being studied.”