“That’s ridiculous. He’s one gluttonous, psycho millionaire human who actually tried to kill me, remember? I didn’t do anything.”
“You ravaged his daughter.”
“She’s a willing participant in our relationship. She’s never been compelled. She still wears that ridiculous cross, in fact.”
“Well, it’s possible that almost being staked by her dad is worth a look into down here in Las Vegas, my friend. So prepare yourself for the inquisition should it happen,” she said.
I don’t want to admit that Selene could be right. Pride is not an emotion that disappears with vampirism, and the fact that I could be made an example of in some way stirs inside me.
“I’m sure one of these degenerates have done something to violate the Covenant, and we’re all just here to witness his punishment. Relax.” I need to take my own advice, but now that we’ve said it, she’s quite possibly right.
It’s mid-afternoon the day that Fiona is to talk to her father against my wishes, and I’m now trapped inside of a vampire nightclub awaiting my creators’ visit. I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket, so I pull it out and turn it off. I cannot sense any bad feeling or danger with her, and I need to stay focused on the impending visit now. I can, however, detect that her agitation has left, and she is calm, and that has to be good enough for now. Mind reading or telekinesis, or telepathy of some kind would have been a way better gift from the Fates, but I need to make do with knowing that she is safe.
If vampires had hearts, mine would be beating through my chest, but instead, I sit stoically, simply waiting.
22
Fiona
My driver pulls away from my father’s house. The smile on my face says it all. My pitch was on point, and my dad loved it. I have never seen him grin from ear to ear before, at least not when talking business with me. I felt a sense of pride when he patted me on the back. It took everything in me to keep the secret, knowing if I exposed the project as Roman’s, my father would’ve ripped everything up and kicked me out. Mostly, I want my father to see me as someone who knows the business. That’s where this project with Roman comes in.
I want to work with Roman, as his partner. I know it’s not what he wants, but after seeing the orphanage and reading his proposal, this is something I can get behind one-hundred percent. I want to use my degree and do something meaningful instead of being my father’s lackey. My dad pays me to entertain the investors while sorting through the garbage they present, and the only thing he really cares about is who is padding his pockets. Out of every proposal I’ve seen, nothing compares to what Roman has put together. He deserves this opportunity, and I’m going to make it happen for him.
Although, I fear what I’ve done might upset Roman. I have to make sure I lay it all out there for Roman and let him know that everything I’ve done is for him and his project.
Halfway home, I call him. The phone rings once and goes to voicemail, which means Roman’s busy. He’s done this before when he’s in a meeting, so I send a text, telling him how the meeting went with my father. I leave out the details about lunch, knowing the consumption of food doesn’t really mean anything to him, though he does show great concern for my dietary habits. Honestly, my eating must be a complete bore for him. Maybe it’s something I need to do when we’re not together, so he’s not feeling awkward. However, that would severely limit our dates, and I really like going out with Roman.
As soon as I get home, I check for any new messages and am saddened to find none. Roman barely lets me wait longer than twenty minutes without returning at least my text. I try him again, and this time his phone doesn’t even ring. I leave him a message, hoping he can grasp the desperation in my voice. Standing outside, dark clouds loom overhead. From this high up, the people down on the street look like ants, seeking shelter from the impending rain. I glance at my weather app; nothing but sun for the next fifteen days.
I suppose it’s not odd for a freak storm to hit, but usually, we get alerts, letting us know what’s coming. With my phone in my hand, I call Roman again. I know I’m bordering on crazy girlfriend status, but I have news I want to share. And he was worried about me going over to my father’s considering what happened in my apartment not too long ago, so why isn’t Roman answering?
As the night goes on, I continue to stand on my balcony, saying Roman’s name repeatedly. I don’t need to yell because I know he can hear me. Up until I left my father’s house, I felt our bond. All through telling my dad about Roman’s plan, our bond was giving me the confidence I needed to get through the meeting without unleashing on my father for his archaic views. Yet, all of a sudden, I feel cold and weak, almost like energy Roman and I share is no longer flowing.
I finally give in to my tears when my next call goes right to voicemail. The sound of his voice, telling me he can’t come to the phone right now as if he’s talking directly to me is too much to handle. I hang up, already having left multiple messages.
“Roman, where are you?” I say out into the open, hoping for an answer, waiting for him to knock on my door any second. “I know you can hear me, and I’m worried. Please come home.” I sob, and slide down the wall, the rough concrete scraping my knees as I do. This pain is nothing compared to what my heart is feeling.
I don’t know how long I stay outside, waiting to hear from Roman. When I look down at my phone, it’s dead, which sends a rush of panic through me. I scramble into my home and plug in the device, praying there’s a missed call from my vampire. The Apple symbol shines and then changes to my home screen.
Nothing.
Not a single notification.
Something must’ve happened to Roman, and he’s hurt, it’s the only logical explanation. I mean, it’s unlikely, unless he’s run into someone deranged like my father. If Roman was to be staked, is there a body or does he turn to dust? How would I know? It’s not like he carries a call my consort card in his wallet in the case of death. Thinking Roman could be dead makes me physically ill. I rush to the bathroom and expel the contents of my lunch into the toilet. I can’t lose him, not without a chance to say goodbye.
I clean up, washing my face and brushing my teeth. I avoid looking at myself in the mirror mostly of fear I’ll start crying again when I see my reflection. I have no doubt my eyes are bloodshot, my cheeks are red, and I probably have snot dried on my face.
Back in my living room, I start to pace again, stopping only to look at my phone to see if Roman has reached out. He’s never waited this long to return one of my calls. It’s useless for me to look.
There’s really only one person I can ask, and that’s Lydia. She’s my resident expert on all things vampire, and maybe she can shed some light on why mine would suddenly disappear on me. Unfortunately, this requires me to leave, which means I need to fix my hair and make-up.
After I reapply most of my make-up, I change quickly and head toward the Bellagio, hoping Lydia’s working. It would’ve made sense for us to exchange numbers, but during our double date, I was so in tuned to Roman, I didn’t give Lydia and Damen a second thought. I just wanted to be with him, and I completely ignored everyone around me.
The clouds from earlier cast dark shadows over the grand marquees that generally light the path of the Strip. It’s an eerie feeling out on the street tonight. People are quiet, almost somber like something terrible has happened. As I cross the road, I pull my phone out of my purse and look at my notifications. There’s nothing. I barely have a signal, which I find odd.
At the Bellagio, I rush through the lobby and stand impatiently at the hostess stand. When she finally rounds the corner, I smile. “Hi, yes, can you tell me if Lydia’s working tonight?”
“She is. Would you like to sit in her section?” Yes and no. What I really want to do is talk to her, but I don’t want to get stuck ordering food I’m not going to eat. “Can you tell her Fiona Weston is here?” The hostess nods and disappears. Once again, I find myself pacing and checking my phone as I do. Too many hours hav
e passed since I’ve heard from -Roman and with the way the weather is tonight, I really don’t want to be alone.
“Hi, Fiona,” Lydia says as she approaches.
“Is there somewhere we can go to talk? It’ll only take a minute or so.” Lydia nods and points to the wall, across the hall.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s Roman.”
“What about him?” she asks.
My hands wring together as I try to compose my words. “I’m trying not to be a crazy girlfriend, but you have to understand since I’ve met Roman he hasn’t left me alone until today. Earlier this morning when I left him to go see my father, Roman begged me not to go because he and my dad do not get along, but I went, and I promised him I’d call as soon as I was done. I did, but Roman’s not returning my calls, and I’m having trouble feeling our bond.”
“I haven’t seen Roman, but I imagine he’s at Clutch.”
“Why would he be there?”
She leans in closer. “Have you seen any vampires around today?” I look over her shoulder and glance at the people walking by. None of them carries the mark.
“No, why is that?”
“The Sisters are here. Every vampire has to report to the Keeper.”
“The Keeper? I have no idea what you’re talking about, Lydia.”
“The Keeper is a vampire chosen by the Fates to deliver the message of their impending arrival. I don’t know who the Keeper is, as Damen didn’t say, but I do know, they’re in a meeting.”
“Wait, who are the Sisters?”
“The vampires’ creators. According to Damen, they only come when times are dire, or someone has broken one of the Covenants.”
Roman and I haven’t discussed his laws. I hadn’t really asked either. Deep down I figured they were like our Ten Commandments; thou shalt not kill being the most important.
“What if they’re here because of me?
Lydia looks at me oddly and takes a step back.
“My dad tried to kill Roman, and Roman attacked my dad.”
Her eyes go wide, and her mouth drops open. What I thought to be a skirmish, could possibly be a punishment for Roman.
23
Roman
Minutes turn into hours as the crowd inside Clutch grows. It seems that vampires from all over Las Vegas and the surrounding areas have been instructed to congregate here, and not unlike humans, the rumors and speculation are at an all-time high. Hushed voices around the room take guesses at what brings the Sisters to town. From what we know, essentially from hearsay or folklore, they visit a Clutch vampire club only to bring down punishment upon those who have disobeyed, or broken a sacred Covenant.
There are no humans permitted during this time, and some of the vampires look like they should have fed before coming here. Technology hasn’t mastered any sort of synthetic blood substitute like you might see in movies or television, and there has been no need for us to store blood for centuries. Humans willingly provide it to us these days, but for those who arrived hungrily, they’ll be in misery if we’re stuck here for an extended period of time.
Since it appears that we had notice, I suppose I could have notified Fiona I would be detained for an unknown amount of time, but that wouldn’t have been sufficient. She asks a lot of questions, and while I love her inquisitive nature, the lack of answers I am able to provide in this particular situation would have caused her more distress than ignoring her call and turning off my phone. I can’t help it, I'm agitated. I want to know what happened with her father today, and I want my freedom. Being trapped in the bar without the ability to leave has me feeling like a caged animal.
Each of us met the Sisters at least one time. On the day of our rebirth. The thing about that day is that no vampire remembers it. I don’t recall their faces or voices. I don’t even know if I met all three at one time, or if I was passed around, or even what I said to become a vampire. I have a vague recollection of a world before I was a vampire, and photographic memory of every moment after becoming a vampire. That sliver of time in the middle, actually becoming a vampire? Don’t remember a bit of it. None of us do. It’s either the most wonderful feeling in the world, or it’s the worst, and that is why it’s blocked out. Although the Sisters are known for having a purpose to every single thing that they do, so it’s probably intentional.
Selene looks more agitated than ever, and she leans across the bar where we’ve settled ourselves in to wait. “Do you remember what drinking tasted like? Or how it made you feel?” she asked me randomly.
As I think back over the years of my life, I can’t say that I do. “No, I suppose I wasn’t much of a drinker before.” I surmise this with no reasonable evidence to support my guess.
“Do you remember much of your life before?”
“Selene, why are you asking me all of these questions? Are you okay?” I grow concerned for her well being after unexpectedly becoming the Keeper. We all knew that a Keeper existed, but I personally presumed that someone held that role and was aware of their responsibility. I had no idea that the chosen vampire would be overtaken by the Sisters whenever they saw fit.
“I’m fine, Roman. I’m just thinking about life before. Would it have been easier to be a foolish and infantile human? Would it have been better?” A wistful look passes over her face before she shakes her head as if jolting lose the thought.
“I don’t think it would have been any easier. It would have been different. And not nearly as interesting a life. But it doesn’t matter; we’re not human, Selene. We haven’t been human for over five hundred years. We have experienced the human condition time and time again and survived long beyond their trials and tribulations, and we shall continue to do so for another five hundred years or more.” I’m not entirely satisfied I believe my own monologue, but Selene looks disturbed by the events unfolding, and I do care for her.
Smiling, she lets out a light laugh. “Maybe you’re right. I don’t like all this waiting. It agitates me. Disrupts my business, too.” She glances around the room at all the vampires with nothing to buy; all the lost revenue without any humans was evidently on her mind as well.
“Hopefully it’ll happen soon. Whatever it is. I have shit to do too.”
“Like your human?” she teases me.
“Yes. Exactly. Like my human.” I chuckle.
Just then, the lights flicker, and the vampires milling about all become silent. It’s happening. The Sisters, the Fates as they are, have arrived. I’m not sure what I expected; a plume of magic smoke and they’d appear, but that’s not what happened at all. They walk in through the front door, the crowd parting before them as they approach the center of the room. Almost floating, they each had a familiar look to me, as if I’d met them before, which of course I had, but I have no exact recollection of it.
The slightest of tight-lipped, sly smiles across each of their lips, the only other thing they have in common with each other is the ethereal gowns they’re dressed in. They don’t appear to have that “Mistress of the Night” look about them, so that stereotype isn’t their fault. In fact, they are quite beautiful, like Greek goddesses. That’s what their attire reminds me of. Still, no one has spoken, but everyone in the room is standing, staring and waiting.
“My children,” the first one said. Her wispy blonde hair falls in waves around her face and down her back. “I am Clotho. You do not remember me, but you have all met me, as your former selves. As a useless bag of blood and bones before you became my children.” Her voice is soft and kind, almost soothing. “My sisters and I are here because someone has broken the rules of the Covenant. Our sacred and binding Covenant.” Her kind face turns into a scowl, and her perfect white teeth draw out past her pale pink lips.
All I can think is that it wasn’t me, so who’s the asshole? Selene and I make eye contact, giving a knowing glance and then we’re both scanning the room as Clotho begins to roam the room as if she’s floating. The other sisters, Atropos and Lachesis, have not identified
themselves yet, and they stand to watch their sister as she examines the faces around her. There have to be two or three hundred vampires in the room, maybe more, and she’s stopping to make eye contact with each of them.
I now wish that I’d blended myself into the crowd, and didn’t have a front row seat for what was about to happen. Flying under the radar has been my specialty for years, and emerging as anything other than ordinary and obedient is not what I want. Fortunately for me, Clotho stops in front of a vampire I’ve never seen before. The immediate fear in his eyes as if he’s been picked out is evident. The human tendency to fight or flee is less in a vampire, particularly with human interaction; however, I’m quite sure from the near quiver in this vampire’s lip that he knows he’s in trouble.
“Egan. My child. Step forward.” She lifts her hand, gesturing to him.
Reluctantly, the vampire does as she asks.
“Come.” She turns back toward where her sisters are still standing, and now grinning.
Egan follows her to the center of the room, then drops to his knees. “Clotho! Please take mercy on me!” he begs. From what I can gather, no one in the room but the Sisters knows what his violations are.
It is then that the Sister with black hair, similar to her blonde sister, long and wavy down her back speaks. She is not as kind, or as demure. “Shut up, you pig!” She sneers.
Egan does as he’s told as we all watch the third sister, the one with auburn hair, approach him without menace. She walks around him, gently resting her hand on the top of his head as she circles. “Egan,” she says almost tauntingly. “Do you know what you’ve done?” As Egan opens his mouth to reply, she takes a fistful of his hair roughly, lowering her face to his. “I suggest that you be honest. It will make this much easier for you.”
“Yes,” Egan whispers.
“Tell your brethren what you’ve done to make us come here to administer punishment!” She releases him violently, causing him to fall back to the ground.
Roman (The Clutch Series Book 1) Page 14