by R. J. Blain
“You carved stakes trying to commit suicide?”
“I was too much of a coward to find somewhere in the sunlight to sleep.”
“That’s just evidence you hadn’t wanted to die in the first place.” Emerick held out his hand. “May I please see the stake?”
While I had no love for most vampires, even I could identify when one wasn’t deserving of death. That, plus I needed him alive if I wanted any hope of staking my maker. “It won’t dust you?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m sure it could, but I recognize it is yours. I’m no innocent, but I’ve carved many a stake in my long unlife. Admittedly, I’ve never carved one hoping to end my life with it, but I have carved them knowing who I would kill while burdened with grief over what I knew I needed to do. It is a brood master’s sacred duty to end the unlife of his children should they stray. Sometimes, hunters like you beat us to the kill. There are many theories about the magic of stakes and the nature of some vampires.”
I hoped his confidence didn’t get him killed, but I offered him the stake. He closed his hand around it, lifting it up for a better look at it in the light. The wood gleamed. While I hadn’t been able to polish it to the shine I’d hoped for with the sandpaper I’d salvaged out of a dumpster behind a hardware store, I regarded my weapon with pride. “What do you mean about the nature of some vampires?”
“Vampires come in all types, Pepper. Some are good-natured. Others are not. Undeath doesn’t change someone’s nature. Ben, for example, was in life as he is in death, only he’s stronger, faster, and hunts for blood—or did in his early days belonging to the night. But Ben is fundamentally still Ben. People change over time, and good people may become warped by their new powers, but those people turned their hearts cold during their mortal lives. I am of the opinion that stakes, when they are first carved for their purpose, learn the heart of their creator. It is that which gives the stakes their power.”
Before I’d been tossed in a grave to rot and clawed my way out of it, likely out of spite, I had scoffed at the idea that something like a piece of wood could have any form of sentience.
The stakes and their unwillingness to escort me out of my unlife had done a good job of changing my mind. “And you?”
“I’ve always been an arrogant bastard, and age has refined me and my arrogance.”
I rolled my eyes so hard I gave myself a headache. “Was I wrong to leave the stakes with the vampires? Was it abandonment?”
Emerick placed the stake on my lap with the others. “Of course not. The stake’s purpose is to return a vampire to the ground and make sure they stay there. When a vampire is buried, they are buried with a stake to prevent them from rising again. And yes, that is possible but rare. There are a few vampires who have died a few times and crawled out of their graves at a later time. They all share something in common: they are old. Very old.” Emerick pointed at one of the smaller stakes, the first I had ever carved. “What can you tell me about this stake?”
I picked it up, and like the others, it warmed in my hand. I’d discovered how stakes could paralyze with it, how I couldn’t kill myself with it, and how much pressure it took to piece the skin. Without a hammer, it took more force to stake someone than a normal human possessed. “It was my first.”
Vampirism had offered me the strength needed to pierce through the breastbone to the heart, although I’d found staking a vampire anywhere worked for paralyzing them. Once drained of blood, I could take my time piercing their dark, shriveled hearts.
If in a hurry, I stabbed through the hard bone, but if I had the few minutes and ready access to a shower, I inserted the stake beneath the bone. It made it harder for someone to undo my hard work.
“That one has a sense of humor.”
A stake could have a sense of humor? I frowned and rolled it in my hands. “What do you mean?”
“When something is strong enough—or possesses a strong will—I can sense that. It’s part of what it means to be old. I amuse it.”
If he amused my stake as much as it amused him, perhaps it would protect him, too. I held it out to him. “Then you should put it in your pocket and stab annoying vampires in the eye with it.”
“It’s generally considered rude to stab annoying vampires in the eye with a stake.”
“Well, if you’re going to be stabbing them, I think you’re beyond worrying about if you’re rude to them.”
Chuckling, he accepted the stake. “Are you not concerned I will stake you with it? While that one you made is exceptional and might truly kill any vampire in existence, this one is quite special, too.”
“But can it put an end to my existence?”
He arched a perfect brow and engaged me in a staring contest, and the bastard won thanks to an ever-growing unsettled feeling deep in my gut, the kind that warned me I brushed against death’s door. When I stared at one of my stakes and checked its tag, he replied, “I wouldn’t allow it to try.”
“I don’t think you get to decide what the stake does.”
“I most certainly do. You gave it to me, so now it is mine, and it isn’t permitted to end your existence.”
“Another vampire could take it from you and stake me with it,” I pointed out.
“I would certainly like to see them try, and at that point, they would have gone beyond permissible levels of rudeness, so I would abide by your request to stab them in the eye with it.” Rolling the small stake in his hands, Emerick’s expression changed to something dark yet also amused. “Did you use this stake for your first kill?”
The memory no longer haunted me. I hadn’t really understood the distance a stake needed to travel to reach the heart, and I had needed to take extreme measures to make sure the miscreant remained dead despite having lost all of his blood to me. I showed him the stake’s crude tip. “It’s really sharp, and I learned that while I could pierce myself with the stake, it would always fall out, no matter how I tried to end my undeath with it. I couldn’t even fall on it to make it stick. Whenever I pierced myself with it, something would always go wrong. It would go in at the wrong angle. It would slip out of my hands the instant paralysis took hold—something would happen.”
“That’s because it doesn’t believe you’re deserving of death, Pepper. It would have seen your heart, and perhaps it believed you deserved to see the sun again.”
“I didn’t know vampires could walk out into the sun without dying then,” I reminded him.
“It stings, but some of us can. You will one day, too. With the amount of vampiric blood you’ve consumed, I expect you’ll walk during the day far sooner than you think. It’ll still sting, but you might even develop full immunity with time. Some do. And those who do often become the best carvers. There are only three carvers in our brood, and Ben and I are two of them. You’re the third—and arguably, you’re the best of us, all accidentally.”
“That must trip your trigger. Someone who is better than you. By accident.”
“I appreciate a challenge. Now, spend a few minutes with your stakes. Then we will resume your lessons. You have much to learn and little time to learn it in.”
Eleven
You’re the reason there are no decent single men left?
The sun rose, and Emerick taught me a terrifying truth about the risks of being blood bound. We’d danced until dawn, and the moment the day overwhelmed me, I became aware that my body continued to move while I slipped into the darkness of sleep.
I snapped back to consciousness with a sore, aching body. Unlike the first time he’d released my body from his control, Emerick took mercy and sat me down on the couch first. “Good evening,” he greeted.
According to my legs, the bastard must have danced the entire day away. I groaned and flopped onto the soft cushions. “What did you do to me?”
“I taught you the fundamentals of flamenco dancing in addition to more practice with the waltz. It was muscle memory training more than anything, although there was an hour we spent
in my bedroom away from watchful eyes so you could learn some interesting secrets. I will enjoy when you discover what I’ve taught you.”
“If it’s sexual positions, I will castrate you.” I’d stake him post castration, too.
“I assure you, should there be any education in such arts, you will be a very active, willing, and engaged participant. As I’m sure you’ve been taught unpleasant things about vampires, the consequences of violating another being in that manner are severe, and I take great pleasure in the crafting of their stake. It’s not tolerated.”
Now we were talking business. “You can do that?”
“The brood’s master is the law, and the broods must also adhere to any applicable laws in place by the government. In a lot of ways, brood law is harsher. Every brood has their own laws, and I am one of the stricter masters in the area. I am careful to make certain the punishment fits the crime, but I do not tolerate certain behaviors. If a vampire wishes to hire prostitutes, that is his business, but his partner must be willing. The brides broods do not tolerate their ladies having any relationships until marriage.”
Yuck. “No wonder they’re unable to turn modern women. The devout wouldn’t consider vampirism due to their religion, and the ones who aren’t religious would not appreciate any old witch telling her she can’t screw at her whim.”
“How crude.”
“But true.”
“While you may pick partners as you please, you should be aware of the cultural differences between humans and vampires.”
I could guess. “Vampires are heavily territorial, and sleeping with one is essentially a claim of ownership?”
“Indeed.”
Interesting. “Anything else I should know about the societal structure of vampires I will regret not knowing? Like, if I randomly start kissing vampires on the cheek, am I claiming them all for my nefarious purposes?”
“We have no problems with greetings like that, and there is no staking of claims done in that fashion. Vampires are rather affectionate, similar to how wolves form a pack, so it is not uncommon for vampires in the same brood to develop close relationships. There are various groups within the brood who consistently keep each other company, but solitary vampires within the brood are welcome to join any of these circles at any time if they require more support than is typical for them. I am generally solitary, although I rotate through the various circles once a week to make certain my vampires don’t forget what I look like. Tomorrow night, I expect I’ll be going to the movies to watch something with one of the groups. Tomorrow’s movie night may bring out the entire brood.”
“The brood has a movie night?”
“And they tend to make me pay for it, as I keep encouraging them to be social with each other. They will likely make me watch some wretched romantic comedy in a dinner theatre, as they like making themselves sick on dairy while indulging in their disgustingly sweet nonsense. I have more subscriptions to movie channels featuring such things than I care to think about. I have nurtured some unfortunate tendencies within my brood, and they insist they will surely perish if I don’t indulge them.”
My mouth dropped open. I could only assume by dairy he meant ice cream, something I’d enjoyed eating while watching movies once upon a time. “Your brood, which mostly consists of men, makes you take them out to a theater so they can eat ice cream while watching romantic comedies?”
“Indeed. I have raised wretched little children with awful senses of humor.”
According to his tone, he was quite fond of his wretched little children. I would need to do research into the behaviors of other broods to find out if the Lowrance vampires entered unlife predisposed to abandoning societal norms. “They watch romantic comedies while eating ice cream?”
“You should not sound so excited about this.”
I couldn’t imagine men so confident in their masculinity that they would go to a romantic comedy flick in a pack without shame. While eating their arch nemesis. “Like hell I shouldn’t! You’re the reason there are no decent single men left? You stole them, you turned them into vampires, and you keep them under lock and key. You’re wretched. No, you’re not just wretched, you are a being of true evil.”
Emerick stared at me as though I’d lost my mind. “Perhaps I exerted your body too much while you slept.”
“How often do these movie nights happen?”
“Once a month or so. It depends on what has been released, of course. The wed vampires particularly appreciate movie night, as it gives them a chance to bring their wives out. I make sure everyone minds their manners.”
The women of the brood probably loved watching a bunch of men having a great time doing something society typically viewed as feminine. “Do your single men bring dates with them?”
“Sometimes, should they have met someone they wish to introduce to the brood.”
“Does Ben go?”
“Ben is often an instigator. He loved going to the theater in his youth and watching plays, and he views movies as exceptionally elaborate plays. It was his idea to dine while watching a film. He wants to go to a proper dinner theater to watch a play, but that is more complicated to arrange.”
“There are dinner theaters all over the place, and their showings tend to start after dark in the fall and winter. I have been to them. Phantom of the Opera is my preferred.” I wondered how different such a theater would be as a vampire. “There’s some that even serve buffets.”
I missed buffets. Where else could I eat my fill without shame?
“In my long years, I have learned to identify when a woman is about to successfully launch a cruel attack on my wealth. Very well. I will make an arrangement for the brood to go to such a theater. As you still need to adapt, I do recommend you remain home for tomorrow evening’s outing. Of course, by the time I’m finished with you tonight and through the day, you will be relieved to stay home and rest.”
I thought about it. The idea of meeting the entire brood at one time horrified me. What if I’d tried to hunt one of them but hadn’t found evidence of guilt? “They won’t view my absence as rude?”
“Not at all. If anything, they’ll view it as rescuing you from my tendency to hover and pamper new members of the brood. I’m sure security will spread horrible tales of how I have been giving you extended torture thinly disguised as lessons. I do much prefer when my student is capable of talking back. It makes the extended torture sessions so much more enjoyable for me.”
“Where are the cameras, anyway?”
“Around. If you wish to say something to the curious security people, I’m sure someone is observing to make certain they don’t have to rescue you. Without fail, they stage a rescue attempt at least once before I permit my new vampire to leave my suite. It’s a rite of passage.”
“I deserve a raise for putting up with you.”
He chuckled. “We can negotiate your pay after you have been sufficiently tenderized.”
I checked my feet, which showed no evidence of developing blisters. “Why do I still have feet when I should have painful stumps formerly known as feet?”
“One of the benefits of drinking my blood is that you gain some aspects of my magic. In this specific case, you’ve gained an above-average capacity for pain and suffering. I took care to feed you while you were dozing. I gave you a pint, and I tested you on my best bottle of Wagyu. You greedily drank that down, in case you were wondering. It has done much to convince me the magical content of the blood is as important as the type of blood.”
“So much for bed rest,” I muttered.
“You will enjoy tomorrow night, as you will get all of the bed rest you want while I’m being subjected to a romantic comedy. Then I will have to babysit an entire whining brood, as they will want real ice cream rather than ice cream that treats their stomachs better. I do not indulge in ice cream, thank you.”
I grinned, as I could imagine only one flavor of frozen treat suitable for the flamboyant vampire. “That’s because you’re
a rainbow sorbet sort of man.”
Emerick’s glare promised immediate retribution. He took control of my body, and the bastard didn’t disappoint, resuming my dancing lessons now that he had a coherent partner capable of learning what he had to teach.
I dreamed of violet eyes gleaming in the dark.
Great. The last thing I needed was to be dreaming about Emerick Lowrance and his flashy, pretty eyes. At the rate I was going, I’d need a long-term stay at an asylum. There was nothing sane about me dreaming about the damned vampire and liking it, especially when said vampire had flattened me on a rooftop and dragged me into his lair.
Then, because sanity wasn’t one of my strong points, I’d decided to like my unexpected stay in the damned vampire’s lair.
The bed was to blame. The bed would be the end of me, as it was soft, warm, comfortable, and everything I looked for when I wanted to snuggle in and enjoy a good nap. Why couldn’t I have made a career out of napping?
Napping seemed like a good way to spend the rest of my life, with my waking hours occupied soaking in Emerick’s tub.
I cracked open an eye and determined I was alone in Emerick’s bedroom. To my dismay, I was still wearing the clothes from the night before, which meant the cozy sheets would need a thorough cleaning, as would the duvet. On the other hand, my unchanged attire earned him a few points, as he could’ve easily made me put on a show for his amusement while I’d slept, completely oblivious to his activities.
I needed to find someone and get an appointment to a doctor
Did old vampires need to sleep? Unless I learned how to resist sleeping after the sun rose, I wouldn’t know for certain. Yawning, I sat up, checking the room for any changes. A change of clothes waited on the dresser, as did a bottle of Wagyu blood. I wrinkled my nose at it, but I got up, grabbed it, popped it open, and drank it down.