by R. J. Blain
“That was a very long time ago,” Emerick said as he sat on the couch’s arm beside me. “Could we focus on more important matters, please?”
“This is quite important. The nature of your relationship with your father was strong, and you bore him no ill-will for his choice to join your mother in death. That’s not an understanding shared by the newest child of your brood, and should her memories of her turning ever awaken, she may resent you for having what she does not.”
“Which is what, precisely?” Emerick demanded.
“A father who loved you and a mother who would see her child live at all costs, of course. There is nothing happy about the story I have to tell about how your Pepper came to exist in our world.”
“I had guessed as much when I received your message,” Emerick replied. “I had also guessed as much from her own admissions about her life.”
“The tale I have for you is long and unpleasant,” Clarke warned.
“And you make it longer with your delays, however founded they are on your concern. Tell your tale. You will find Pepper to be equal to anything you throw at her.”
“But is she?”
As I wondered, I kept my mouth shut and waited to hear what had befallen me the night I joined the ranks of monsters lurking in the darkness.
Twelve
I am concerned that she rates us by our taste.
“I did not know the name of your maker when you were turned. Like you, I was an unwilling guest.”
“Is guest the word old men prefer to use because hostage or captive is too embarrassing?” I asked, canting my head to the side. “I was raised to have a healthy dislike of anyone who might drink my blood. But you already know this, don’t you?”
“You are an oddity, and yes, you are an oddity who once possessed a rather ingrained dislike of anyone trying to drink your blood. Reasonable, really. As you were raised to have such prejudices, you found my company distasteful at best.”
“Were you trying to drink my blood? I would definitely find that distasteful.”
“I did not mean it in that fashion, Pepper Lowrance. You thought that while I do drink blood, my status as an unwilling participant was far more distasteful than the existence of vampires.”
Well, that made sense. I wasn’t my father, nor was I my mother, either. I did try to make use of my common sense, and that sometimes meant accepting that things weren’t as I’d initially believed. “As a general rule, I find anyone being forced into something without their consent to be abhorrent. I don’t enjoy being put into that position myself. That said, your offspring is delicious, and I will resent it should you try to take my favorite dessert away from me.”
Clarke laughed. “I see you used unconventional methods of securing her loyalties, Emerick.”
“I caught her fresh from a kill, when she was no longer fighting off her thirst. Once she’d calmed, she proved quite reasonable. She was so desperate to be freed from her maker, she would have sold her soul for but a chance to stake him. Which I offered without hesitation, as it was obvious she’d been forced to become one of us.”
“It never fails to amaze me how resilient humans are at the end of their lives, and how something like a woman’s hatred for her captor can spur her into rising from her grave for but a chance to seek her revenge.”
I shrugged. There was no point in denying the truth. From the moment I’d woken up, alone and in the suffocating dark of the ground, I’d lived a life full of hatred, remorse, and self-loathing.
Emerick kept introducing me to things I liked, offered a calm environment, and even allowed me to invade his territory without complaint. All of those things made it difficult to cling to my hatred and self-loathing, although it would take a lot more than finery to rid me of the chains of my remorse.
I’d become what I’d once hated, and I still wasn’t sure what I thought about that.
Emerick relaxed, draping his arm along the back of the couch. “I plan on teaching her the better parts of unlife, although it seems I may have to change all of my home to her likings or surrender and acknowledge my suite is her suite, and she but allows me to make use of it. In truth, I have already acknowledged this and have filled half of my dressers with her things so she won’t have to wander across the penthouse to find something to wear.”
Clarke raised a brow. “You surrendered quickly to her will.”
“I find the vampire she has made herself to be a most magnificent being. How could I not?”
A good psychiatrist might be able to talk sense into the brood master. Maybe.
“I see it’s too late for you. Try not to abuse my offspring too much, Pepper. He is but a frail rascal, one who needs pampering and care to thrive.”
“Are all vampires crazy?” I considered Emerick, who’d lost all signs of his apprehension and enjoyed his maker’s company. His maker likewise relaxed. I wondered what I’d missed about their posturing, who had won the dispute, and what it meant for me. “I’ve had very limited interactions with vampires, and most of them tasted disgusting.”
“I am concerned that she rates us by our taste.” Clarke frowned, and his eyes narrowed. “You didn’t appreciate my taste, either. Even during your first frenzy, you wrinkled your nose like you wished to spit me out but couldn’t quite bear the thought of losing your first meal.”
I could see myself doing just that, as I’d done it each and every time I’d staked and drained a miscreant. “I don’t remember that, but Emerick explained why you taste bad to me.”
“Oh? He did?”
“The unwilling always taste bad.”
Clarke blinked, and he leaned back in Emerick’s seat. “While that’s accurate enough, it is usually a mild bitterness at most to even sophisticated tongues.”
“She is highly sensitive to the taste of blood. Do not ask what became of my poor bathroom after her first exposure to chicken’s blood. It did not go over well. But, knowing she drank your blood during the making process gives me some thoughts onto the why of it. It’s not just the taste of it, but the magic inherent in blood—specifically our blood.”
“I’m old, and old things have power. It would have changed her development. And if she’s drinking from you, you are old, and old rascals like you have power, too. Weak and underdeveloped power, of course.”
Emerick’s exasperated sigh implied his maker liked to yank on his chain whenever possible. “And she lived on only vampiric blood until now. Wagyu doesn’t settle as well with her as I would like, but that’s the most potent animal blood my brood keeps. While she calls me her dessert, in reality, I’m her primary blood source at this point in time. Ben is available, but I’m a jealous master and haven’t been inclined to share his blood with her. There have been numerous volunteers in the brood willing to help with her feeding, but I haven’t taken them up on their offers yet.”
“I presume you don’t wish anyone else to have sway over her other than you.”
While the posturing didn’t surprise me, I found the discussion almost as distasteful as miscreant blood. The truth of it annoyed me even more than their open discussion of my circumstances. Clarke implied Emerick owned me.
I kept my mouth shut, but the instant I tired of it, I would make it clear I wouldn’t be owned by anybody.
Learning how to prevent Emerick from taking control of my body when I didn’t want him to rose to my top priority.
“Precisely. And as she did a very good job of permanently dispatching her prior prey, I enjoy being the only one in such a position. Her acceptance of this reality is a factor. I suspect she would react poorly if someone else attempted to take control of her. I have taught her the consequences of drinking another vampire’s blood quite thoroughly. I have been educating her.”
He’d certainly been teaching me how to waltz around his sitting room. “Are you sure I can’t stake him, Emerick? He hasn’t opened his mouth and told us anything about my maker yet.”
“It’s considered bad form to stake a friend,
Pepper. While he can be an annoying individual, he does classify as a friend.”
“Are you sure?”
“Quite certain, really. I do like my maker, although I find he is rather more troublesome than I like at the moment.”
“I see you’re not above teaching your new woman bad habits.”
“I have been pleased to discover she came with these habits from the moment I plucked her off the streets. I look forward to refining her habits. She’ll be marvelous in all things she does, and I will enjoy knowing she’ll be armed and capable of defending the brood.”
Clarke gestured towards me. “She’s certainly armed.”
“I merely left the apparel for her and returned her rightful property. Pepper, without staking my maker, would you show him your stakes? He is almost as skilled at their craft as you are, although I’d ask you to convince your stakes that he shouldn’t be returned to dust quite yet. He does have information on your maker, so you do need him to acquire your revenge.”
I pulled out the stake that’d been marked as priceless, shrugged, and held it out. “This one?”
“I was thinking all of them you carved, but that one is a treasure.”
Clarke got to his feet, crouched nearby, and rested his elbows on his knees while examining my stake. “And you carved this yourself, Miss Pepper?”
“With a pocketknife.”
“May I?”
I stared at Emerick, uncertain if the stake would have a mind of its own if I handed it over.
“It should be all right as long as you don’t try to stab him with it.”
While tempting, I gave the stake to Emerick’s maker. “I carved all but one of these, and the one was a gift.”
“I gave her one of my black oak stakes. It quite likes her.”
Clarke rolled my stake in his hands, examining the slender weapon. “Has it been appraised?”
“If she decides to stake you with that, you would not survive. Very few of her stakes lack power. She carved them to kill herself.”
“Well, that’s not going to be very effective, Miss Pepper.” Clarke returned my stake. “If he has not made this clear yet, I will do so on his behalf. You are as you are, and your life, as it is now, has value. I’ll leave any spanking of your person to him, as he is a jealous master and does not permit anyone else to punish those within his brood. That said, should I catch you attempting any sort of thing, I will stop you, return you to your brood where you belong, and have him handle your corrections as he sees fit.”
I raised a brow. “Spanking? Seriously?” Shooting Emerick a glare, I added, “I don’t think so, you.”
Try as he might, the brood’s master wouldn’t trick me with his innocent expression and slight shrug.
“It’s a very effective way of shocking a young member of the brood into realizing they’ve made an unfortunate mistake. I will often use a switch on my youngest, so they might remember why they shouldn’t push me on certain matters.”
“I have gentler but more effective ways of ensuring she understands she’s made a poor choice,” Emerick announced, giving his maker his undivided attention. “We are in a different time now. I will not raise my hand to her. She would do her best to stake me and feed my heart to me before I perished, and if I’m going to test my authority, I will do so in other ways. After seeing the appraisals on her stakes and her hunting methods, I value my life and do not wish to give her an excuse to end my existence.”
“How many times did you spank Emerick when he was young?” I asked.
“At least once a week. He was a most stubborn child, and he seemed to enjoy pushing his luck. He still does, although he pushes his luck in ways beyond my authority. Which disgusts me, in case you were curious.”
Right. Old vampires came from old times, and old times involved odd and physical punishments. There was no reason to believe Clarke implied anything by his choice of punishment.
It would just bother me for the rest of the night, haunt my dreams, and probably finish driving me crazy.
Sharing a bed with Emerick would test me enough as it was. Under no circumstances could I afford to think about what two adults might do in a bed. If I sprinkled in some consenting punishments, I’d be the jealous vampire upset if anyone came too close to the man I’d claimed for more than just sustaining my health through consuming his blood. In reality, I needed to speak with Giovanni about having a mental evaluation.
There was nothing healthy about my interest in the brood’s master.
Inhaling, I firmed my resolve, returned my stake to its holder, and sat straighter on the couch. “Are vampires all mentally unstable?”
“No,” both men replied.
Interesting. “Are some vampires mentally unstable?”
Emerick sighed. “I’m not sure what has gotten into you, Pepper, but you’re not mentally unstable. You’re adapting exceptionally well for someone in your position. Of course, one might view your initial tendency to automatically stake an unknown vampire as a bad habit, but you have a justifiable reason for your behavior.”
Clarke smirked. “She is a young woman, and you’re a quite handsome specimen, boy. She’s probably hungry for more than blood, and it’s an issue the brides broods have learned to address over the centuries. You know full well you give your men a few weeks away from their duties to tame their brides and ease their appetites. There is no reason to believe she is immune to instinct, and the brides tend to be sensual creatures when they aren’t brought up under the strict rules of their broods. They’re also jealous, inclined to stick with even the rashest of decisions, and otherwise live to test the patience and mettle of their chosen men.”
My face flushed. “The brides broods do what?”
Emerick sighed. “They ensure chastity among their members and do a great deal to convince them to follow a certain ethic, whereas I’m giving you the complete freedom to pick your partner with certain caveats.”
I could guess at those caveats. Emerick redefined jealousy, and also enjoyed maintaining control over his brood, even when it meant subjecting himself to ice cream parties while watching romantic comedies. But, as Clarke’s presence was helping unravel the mystery of my new brood and its egotistical master, I asked, “Do the brides broods really control their women that much?”
“It is a necessity,” Clarke replied, and he engaged Emerick in a staring contest. “I’ll answer her questions, even if you don’t please, as I know you quite well. You will tiptoe around the subject, as you prefer to allow your younglings to discover their new instincts on their own and learn to address those urges as they arise. That method can work very well in raising a vampire, but there are additional difficulties the ladies need to address. And for all of the confinement of the brides broods, they have served a good purpose in our society for years.”
“Except it may lead to our general extinction,” Emerick replied.
“Hardly. We’ll simply become a single-gender species. Hardly ideal, and we’ll see heightened rates of suicides among our number from a lack of permanent bondings between couples, but as long as there are ambitious men, there will be vampires willing to turn them. You go out of your way to avoid the overly ambitious, and you take great care to pick those with strong moral standings for your brood. You toe a dangerous line, but it is one that has worked well for you and your brood.”
As my father’s daughter, I’d learned to read between the lines. As an attorney, I’d learned to have the courage to ask the difficult questions. “Are you suggesting the women turned into vampires become sexually aggressive, Clarke?”
“Frankly, I’m impressed you have not already indulged in such instincts. The first woman I turned, some two hundred years ago, had a ravenous appetite and was very quick to pick a suitable male. I had to take care with introductions, as I understood the first man she captured with her charms would become hers for as long as they both lived. That is exactly how it happened, too. They are quite a happy couple, and they have made a strong brood for
themselves in Ireland. Do not blame my boy here for being his usual sly self. He prefers to keep his secrets where no one else may steal them from him. While men outnumber women among vampires, you’ll find your gender will offer you certain benefits. You are the first of your generation to be successfully turned, however much I dislike my role in your making.”
I frowned. “And this is tolerated and accepted as normal? That women will…?”
“Will jump the nearest man who will take her and keep him until her dying day, however many centuries from now that may be? Yes, it is normal. It is considered a great honor to be chosen by a woman. And as women are becoming so rare, it has become quite difficult to convince the brides broods to let one of their number go.”
“So Emerick having two brides broods attending a ball with our brood is a big deal?”
Clarke’s brows shot up. “How did you convince one to participate, let alone two?”
“I didn’t. She did. I merely understand the value of women among our kind. Madam Avalon has proposed a match for Ben. Or, in her words, there were several women interested in him. Ben has been alone for a long time.”
“Vampires do not do well alone, Miss Pepper, and I would remind yourself of that often if I were you.”
Emerick’s possessive determination made a great deal more sense when I understood there was more to the situation than I’d anticipated. “Do you have a woman?”
“I once did, but I currently do not. She was staked many years ago, and I have not yet found someone I would risk losing now for a chance at eternity. Your survival has offered us much hope, for all I would never willingly put someone through what you endured. Your making goes against everything I believe in.” Clarke gestured to my collection of stakes. “Magic makes those as much as magic makes us, and it is a wise magic. They know what you do not, and they were born to a higher purpose than your death. There is no justice in the death of an innocent. The strongest stakes come from those who harbor the strongest need. Those stakes have seen your soul, and because they found it worthy, they have given you their strength.”