by Aya DeAniege
“Play it back,” Amma said.
“Turn me,” I said.
“She may be delirious,” Margaret said. “She’s not a healthy mortal, that’s for certain.”
“I suppose if anyone would know, it’d be the mad scientist among you,” I said sternly.
“You’re sweating and have a glazed look in your eyes,” Margaret said. “Quin, how did she speak to Lu? Face to face?”
“You can’t get sick that fast,” I said in my defense.
“Maybe he bit you, and you don’t remember, sometimes that happens with mortals.”
“No, he made me prove I was mortal, but Quin cleaned the blade before he used it.”
“And Quin provided the bandage?”
“It was still in the wrapper.”
“Quin didn’t provide the bandage,” Lucrecia gasped out.
“I’m not infected. Just yesterday you said Lu couldn’t have created the sickness. Or maybe that was Sasha, one of you said that. None of you believes he creates sickness.”
“But you did,” Margaret said. “Lucrecia says we are playing by your rules instead of ours. That means that we assume Lu created a virus and has now infected you with it. And before you protest, yes, it can happen that fast. The sickness we’ve witnessed can take hold in ten hours instead of ten days. It’s nothing natural to this world.”
The woman approached me quickly. I waved her away, but she still placed a hand on my forehead.
I didn’t want her touching me because something, some voice at the back of my head was screaming for me to run away. Something was wrong, some fact or little tidbit that I had to figure out. But my head wouldn’t focus on the present, let alone the past.
“That is a fever,” she muttered, reaching immediately for my neck. “Have you eaten today? Upset stomach at all? That locked down sort of feeling, nothing going in?”
“He overstuffed me last night,” I said.
“I need a blood sample,” she said, turning to Quin.
“I’m not allowed to eat her, you can’t either,” Quin growled.
“Syringe and lab testing, Quin. There’s no way I’m putting that in my mouth if it’s possible she’s sick.”
Margaret left the room. The other Council members shifted uncomfortably as Lucrecia played on her phone.
“If she is infected, killing her won’t stop it,” Lucrecia said. “Unless we burned the building that her body was in. Mortals might frown on that. Margaret has studied the dead of this, but not an active case. We don’t know if mortal medicine will solve it.”
“And no magical vampire healing,” I muttered.
Not unless we found the vampires from Quin’s myth. Of whom, there’d only really be Lucrecia as a possibility. When I turned my attention to her, I found her scowling at me, as if daring me to say it. Daring me to attempt to say something, to come forward and point something out to the Council.
Right, she can read minds.
Lucrecia asked something in another language. It was the tone of voice that gave it away as a question. Quin answered, and then everyone in the Council began talking as one. They weren’t talking over one another, but clearly, each was saying a different thing.
Margaret re-entered the room and came to a full stop she looked over the others and shook her head, rolled her eyes, and approached me.
“I’m going to take a bit of blood. My tests for this are very specific. It won’t take long. You know, being a mad scientist and all. But don’t you worry, we’ll take care of you.”
“Take care, or take care?” I asked.
Margaret’s eyebrows raised ever so slightly. “That’s the fever talking. You probably don’t realize the fog you’re in. Quin’s not around mortals enough to recognize the illness. I am, again, mad scientist and all.
“There, all done.”
She left the room with the vial and the other items she had brought with her. After she had left, I turned to the others. They were still arguing in another language, or perhaps several.
“If only real vampires forgot all their other languages like in the books,” I muttered. “They never forget that the mortal in the room can’t speak Latin, Italian, Russian, and… not a clue what that one might be.”
Margaret re-entered the room and then just joined the conversation. I groaned and stared up at the ceiling.
“If I’m sick, shouldn’t they start the drugs right away, to make sure they catch it in time because it’s apparently a magical bug?” I asked the ceiling.
Unless it was too late, unless they were just waiting for the confirmation before they killed me and burned the building to the ground to prevent the spread to other mortals.
How many others had I been in contact with? The restaurant, Troy, random people on the street. The front door lady.
“Viruses spread,” I said, struggling to stand. The world did a funny little swirl as I found my feet. Swallowing the dry heave that tried to rise, I moved to the vampires. “Viruses spread and mortals move fast these days. You need to get the restaurant and the lady at the front door and Troy.”
The vampires stopped talking. Quin turned and wrapped an arm around me, pulling me tight against him and holding me up.
“Mortals probably moved slower before. Not as much mobility. One of the ones from the restaurant might have gotten on a plane already.”
“We will need to contact the authorities,” Balor grumbled. “They will not be pleased with this.”
“The other option is to do things like you used to do and if it gets out of hand just cough and say something like SARS while you do it,” I said.
The vampires looked suddenly uncomfortable.
“Wow, your fault on that one?” I asked. “But it means you can do it again. Come on, you can’t tell me that after coming out you’re all traceable.”
“Everything the Council does is traceable. If Stacey there takes ill not only will they notice, they’ll want to talk to her.”
“Private medical,” Margaret said. “Not really a thing in Canada, but I’m sure they can appreciate us doing everything we can to help out our door greeter.”
“Who happens to be stock,” Amma muttered. “Stock we should be allowed to eat in this instance. That’s the point of her being stock.”
“You can’t just eat people who disagree with you,” Quin said. “It’s bad for morale.”
“With all due respect, Quin, you are not on this Council, don’t tell us how to use our stock,” Balor said.
Quin looked down at his clenched fist, where the stone was held tightly. His knuckles were almost white from how tightly he held that stone.
“Now or later?” I asked him.
Ever so slowly, he relaxed. Quin turned to me, eyes moving down, then back up to focus on my face. Taking a small breath, he turned to the Council.
I thought he’d tell them then and there.
“Do I have to wait for the test results? They might come when it’s too late.”
Margaret’s eyebrows raised. “Are you certain about this?”
“My mouth tastes like blood, Margaret,” Quin paused to run his tongue over the inside of his mouth, then swallowed. “I know we want bases covered, T’s crossed and I’s dotted. We want to do this by their book. Their book doesn’t cover daddy unleashing a plague on the human race because I was included in the interviews.”
“You still haven’t told us why he would,” Balor said.
“And if this doesn’t happen, you’ll never know,” Quin responded. “There, I said it. You want answers, you want Wraith, you want Death on his knees, and Lu in a box at the bottom of the ocean? You know my demand.”
Margaret held out her right hand.
Look back over the transcript. How long have their hands been behind their backs?
“I’m running the test for the sake of other mortals. My decision was made long ago.”
Amma watched Margaret for a long moment, then turned to Bob. “Can we do this without Wraith?”
“I think I know how
Wraith would vote,” Bob said quietly, his eyes on Quin. “Ballsy, Quin. We could deny. Your services to this Council have been near miraculous, but even you are not God.”
“No, I’m not God, I just have his ear. Vote, Bob.”
“Death and burning the entire building to the ground, you said, Margaret?” Bob asked, turning to her.
“Hot flames, kind that would gut a building like this.”
“Shame,” Bob said, then he brought forward his right hand. “Understand, however. I expect full payment, or we’ll deal with this the way we did in the Inquisition days.”
“You mean when you were screaming and hiding under a desk?” Quin asked.
“No,” Balor said, raising his left. “No vote without Wraith. I don’t give a damn if Bob thinks he knows how Wraith would vote. And I don’t give a shit what your teeth tell you.”
Quin turned his attention to Amma. The woman stared back at him for a long moment before she glanced at Bob, then towards Margaret.
“The one for the sake of an uncle, another for the sake of a fire. What of the race, then? Lucrecia?”
“We have been preparing for this for centuries. If you mean, can my family handle the cover up and consequences of this vote, the answer is yes, Amma. If you’re asking the other question, you should know that I trust his teeth.”
“If Wraith were here, you would certainly have your vote. This is the modern world, however. It is not a decision we can make lightly.”
“But one that must be made quickly,” Quin said.
“You can have the rights to the transcript,” I said.
“Do you know what he votes for?” Amma asked.
“No, you all were talking another language. But Quin wants it? I can’t use this. It’s not going public, so it’s more of… I don’t know, a habit at this point? To see it to the end? So, you can have this along with everything else he’s promised.”
Amma watched me for a long, long time. It was hard to read what was going on behind her eyes.
Her right hand raised.
“Keep the rights child. You’ll need them.”
“For what?” I asked.
“The Council has cast its vote,” Balor said. “Quintillus Lu DiLucrecia, you are granted the one-time right of a stay on the command concerning Progeny.”
I blinked at the Council. My head wasn’t quite working, I was in a fog like the world was a hundred miles away and slowly growing smaller.
“What?” I asked.
“Looks like you will be telling me all about Wraith,” Amma said with a slow smile.
“I didn’t mean to suggest you had to turn me,” I said, a cold running through my body. “I was being sarcastic.”
“We have a room for this,” Margaret said. “Do talk to her. Recall, consent doesn’t mean anything. Time, however, does.”
The Council left, which left Quin, Lucrecia, and me in a room.
I just couldn’t wrap my head around it.
“It’s the fever doing it to you,” Lucrecia said. “Being immortal has its perks. Such as, not dying tonight by puking up your own stomach. And not being patient zero in an outbreak that decimates the human population back to the stone age.”
“They're serious?” I asked. “They aren’t going to kill me and then burn the building to the ground?”
“The Council Chambers host several items, including the Mona Lisa, which would be lost in such a fire,” Lucrecia said gently. “The rules change when you are immortal. I prefer it if my family members gain consent before turning others.”
“I don’t even know how to respond to that. I mean, clearly I don’t want to die but wrapping my head around the fact that I will never die is just too much.”
“Come, let’s go to the room. It’s a little intimidating, I have to warn you,” Lucrecia said, taking my hand.
“What does,” I turned to Quin.
He seemed to be sucking on something in his mouth. He wouldn’t meet my eyes, and there was a clear blush above his beard and spreading across his face.
“He can’t talk right now, can he?” I asked.
“He’d probably drool all over the place. Quin, dear, do you want to turn Helen?”
Quin smiled in response and pressed his lips against my forehead gently. It wasn’t a proper kiss, but at least I didn’t get slobbered on.
“Okay,” I said.
They led me someplace else. I just couldn’t focus enough to pay attention.
Margaret had not been kidding when she said it was fast acting. I swear my body wanted to just give up, to let the fever take me. I struggled to remain conscious as I was set on a cold floor.
I laid down, if only because that floor was oh so cool compared to the fire that was working its way through my flesh.
“Will it hurt?” I asked.
“In the end, few of us recall being turned,” Lucrecia said.
“That’s not an answer,” I sighed.
Quin pulled me upward. His fingers pushed a few strands of hair from my face. Again, he smiled at me.
“Remember,” he said, hesitating for a moment, “when you write this into a set of books, this is the part where you end one and start another.”
“You’re a bad man for cracking a joke right now,” I said.
“A morbid sense of humour helps,” Quin said.
“Quit playing with your food,” I said, then giggled.
He made a sound. Then he bit me.
The last thing I remember clearly was a hope and a prayer.
I don’t want to remember this pain.
How do I shut this thing off? I can’t find the button.
You should leave it on, for prosperity.
Uh, all right. Suppose talk like it’s one of my stories. She can decide late if she wants to keep it?
Right?
Right.
Except past tense because she’ll be using it later.
I sat in the Council’s murder room, my back against the wall and Helen’s head in my lap. The cold of the metal was a sensational reminder, one I needed to stay alert after glutting myself on her blood.
It had been a while since I bit a mortal.
Legally, I have to say that.
Right, so the Council has a murder room in the middle of the building. They always do. They also maintain their own stock. As Council, they are the only ones who can permit the eating of mortals, and due to recent years and mortals tracking other mortals, it’s usually done in a murder room such as the one I was sitting in.
The murder room is not as creepy as it sounds. It’s coated, no, it’s had metal panels installed into the walls. It’s easy to clean and harder to break than tile. Also, tiled rooms just remind us of horror movies. While we are the bad guy in horror movies sometimes, we don’t like being reminded of that as we feed.
So, the room is metal and very clinical. There is a bed such as what autopsy places will use.
Morgues.
Yes, thank you, such as morgues would use. There’s even muzak to play if one so chose. Supposedly humans relax at muzak but I think that’s more myth than anything else.
The room was usually kept very warm, but they cooled it for that event. Progeny who woke to a chilled existence felt the cold less. It’s an odd thing, one we discovered when speaking to those who had been turned then left in a snowbank to die. Or drift, I suppose snowbanks are new.
We decided a long time ago that when it came time to make a new baby vampire, we would give them all the advantages we could. Not being susceptible to cold is very much an advantage. It comes to you eventually, I’m told. This is as far north as I can manage and that’s after fifteen hundred years. It’s cold enough in the room to see my breath.
That’s slightly annoying. It could be the full stomach, but I’m not feeling the cold now, for which I am grateful. The cold was annoying because I could see the goosebumps down Helen’s arms, and Lucrecia was wrapped up in a sweater but still annoyed.
Some baby vampires are out for hours, so
me for an entire day. Myself, the blood had time to dry before I awoke.
While there were other things I had to do that night, I remained there with Helen. My teeth ached as if they had been hollowed out. I suppose in a way they had.
It had only taken one bite before her flesh started to mend. By then, though, a different sort of hunger had overcome me. Despite having fed earlier in the night, I had drunk greedily, wanting every drop. It wasn’t until the venom overwhelmed me that I stopped.
“Progeny blood,” Lucrecia said as she crouched by us. “There’s a reason Lu keeps calling you back. It’s like an itch you can’t stop scratching. She’s going to taste terrible for the next few days as your venom works its way through her. Despite the mess you made, I don’t think you got much blood out of her.”
“Stronger and thicker the venom, the faster they heal, isn’t that what they say?” I asked.
“It is, although sometimes those with powers stay under longer. You were out a day. I was out two days. But there were four vampires when I woke, and none of them was certain which was my Maker. They drained me good, the bastards.”
After biting a Progeny, the teeth must remain in the flesh for some time. Only when buried in the flesh does the venom pump. It’s an odd sensation, but one can feel when the flesh begins to heal around the teeth.
That’s when you know that you’ve started the process.
Baby vampire is what we call those who have been turned in the first twenty-four hours of their immortal lives. That is when you can still kill them, after that all bets are off. Like babies, vampires tend to not quite have their feet under them. You can see the changes taking place.
They might vomit food back up, or make a mess of themselves as their body goes through the changes. Their impulse control is at almost zero. Those with powers will inadvertently use them, then struggle afterwards to bring back control. Thing was, only those with powers that could be seen with the naked eye would know if they were lucky enough.
Mind reading, glamouring, astral projection and so many others were a very real possibility. Add to that the manic behaviour that overcame most fledglings and yes, there was a mess to clean up.
It could take upwards of two hundred years for one of us to grasp power and how it should be used.