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Authors: Brandon Hill

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BOOK: From Slate to Crimson
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I caught Roland’s attention with a thought. Abruptly he stopped his conversation and looked my way. His mirrored shades obscured his eyes, but I could see the complete shock in his expression as easily as I felt it from his thoughts.

I told Amelia to wait, and approached the booth where he sat. Though I did not sit with him, the two women left as quickly as possible.

“Master, that was my lunch,” Roland said, behaving as casually as possible, “…and potentially breakfast.”

“I smelled you all over them,” I said. “What would Aiko think?”

“Leave her out of this,” he said, removing his shades to reveal the inhuman red of his eyes, which deepened with anger. So he and Aiko were again in the “off” phase of their tenuous relationship, it seemed.

“It can’t be helped,” I said, agreeing without words to steer clear of that conversational land mine. “That is neither here nor there, anyway.”

“What did I do?” Though he was unable to read my thoughts, my intent was not something that it required our powers to see. “I’ve been keeping my proverbial nose clean lately.”

“Have you?” I asked. “Then explain why an outsider human has been prowling around our safe houses.”

“Well, you can’t mean anyone
I’ve
been with.” He pointed in the direction to which the girls had sauntered off. “I told them nothing! What are you talking…?”

“Not them,” I said, and glanced at Amelia. Roland followed my gaze and snorted.

“Never seen her in my life,” he said. He was telling the truth.

“Perhaps not,” I said, “but she saw the message you left behind the other day.”

Were his skin not already as white as mine, I believe that he would have paled at my words. But what he said compensated well enough.

“Shit.”

His expletive drawled out in an almost comically long, whispering groan.

“Irresponsible fledgling.” Roland cringed when I used the term of endearment with him. His shame went so deep that I could practically feel the lump in his throat. “You haven’t learned from your previous mistakes, have you?”

“Please, Master,” Roland begged, “it won’t happen again. I swear it!”

“You’re damn right it won’t,” I replied, calm yet firm. I turned and started back to where Amelia waited. “Meet me in the Lair tomorrow evening. You and I have much to discuss.”

Suddenly, I felt Roland’s hand grasp my arm. It was too tight to have been him begging to be heard out-–which he never did. When he yanked hard, pulling me unceremoniously to the ground, I knew for certain that he was not pleading.

“Master, look out!” Roland’s voice boomed above the abrupt cacophony of screams and panic. I looked up as I hit the ground, and noticed the large, black object that leapt my way. Shadows of frightened patrons dashed past me; tables were knocked over; glasses shattered.

My eyes darted back and forth, coming at last to rest upon the glowing red irises of a dog that hovered above me. It practically reeked of Lothos—small wonder, since it had been turned, and my children had long since given up such reckless experiments.

It lunged at me, but my speed was far greater. In an instant, I turned the tables, pinning it to the ground.

The beast was massive. It was a Doberman…or at least it had been. But now it was an abomination that was twice the size of a bull mastiff, a bizarre side effect of the transformation our blood had wrought. It was recently turned, it seemed, and still reveling in its own newfound powers, overconfident, and not yet driven insane by its bloodlust.

I snapped its spine. It whimpered only once, and then lay still. I leaped back, and with a thought, ignited it from the inside out. It burned to ash, assuring permanent death.

I turned quickly to Roland, who was busy nursing his injured arm, uttering a string of curses. The massive bite wound beneath his ripped shirt had still not completely healed, but he was none the worse for wear. I glanced a second time around the now-ransacked, and quickly emptied karaoke bar, and nearly panicked. Amelia was nowhere to be found.

“Did you see the woman I was with?” I asked Roland.

“The librarian?” Roland said. “Yeah, I saw her; not your type, really.”

“Find her,” I ordered sternly, “no matter what the cost. But take her to the Lair, not the safe house.”

Roland did not protest. Regardless of my disapproval of his previous actions, he knew that in a situation involving Lothos or the enemy, my commands were not to be questioned. He vanished, beginning his search, and I opened my mind to the surrounding area.

It was almost too easy to find him. In fact, the vampire made no effort to hide himself, save staying out of view. It was suicide for him to remain here after such an audacious action as setting a
vampiric dog upon a crowd of unsuspecting humans, but then again, Lothos was not terribly particular about whom he chose to join his ranks. The insane made good kamikaze runners, after all.

“Come out,” I said. “I know you were the start of this.”

A lone figure emerged through the entrance to the dance area, obscured by stark shadows and light about and behind from the grid of track lights above. He smiled, and a large row of white teeth appeared in the darkness, the fangs on the top and lower jaw, serrated by files.

“Sire of weak filth…” He whispered the words in a sort of mocking reverence. “You have bested the most promising of my children...and now I reward you with death.”

Inwardly, I scoffed. The hubris of Lothos’ children was practically amusing. This was a time that I truly did wonder if something in their transformation affected their sanity.

“What does your master want?” I asked, unwilling to waste my time with this one, “I’m busy.”

The vampire had begun to shake. It was a most disturbing, jerking motion, as if something had crawled into his threadbare shirt and into his muscles. At last, he stopped, and seemed to gaze at me with eyes that did not appear to be his own. It was a distant, strange look, as if something else was seeing through him.

“My old friend.”

His voice was not his own when he spoke these words; rather, it was the voice of Lothos: a different and much deeper timbre, disturbingly coming through the body of this member of his twisted disciples.

“Too afraid to face me yourself, Lothos?” I said, disguising my disconcertment at the little trick my nemesis had learned. “It doesn’t surprise me if you are, seeing how the last time we met, you left with your limbs barely intact.”

“I did not come to banter,” Lothos replied. His voice satisfyingly betrayed the annoyance my words had produced. “But to turn the tables on your recent activities. You have tried to flush me out of hiding, and now, it seems I’ve turned the predator into the prey.”

“You sure have a strange choice of hunters,” I said. “This errand boy, whose body you’re borrowing, couldn’t kill a fledgling.”

I suddenly became aware of movement, and several thoughts coming into range, all hostile. Sounds of chairs being smashed and bottles breaking accompanied the shuffling of feet. And then from out of the surrounding shadows, several pale figures emerged in black garb that mixed like shadows with the environment.

There were five in all, three male and two female, each rife with the scent of Lothos’ clan. My eye caught the familiar glint of Jewels that hung from their necks as they drew upon the devices’ power and re-inserted themselves into this dimension.

“You used humans to track me in the daylight?” I said, following a muttered curse. It was the only way he could have found me so quickly and had his forces remain in hiding for so long.

“Surely it’s not so hard to believe, my old colleague,” Lothos said. “I have many eyes, and have heard rumors over many years. I figured the stories were true, and had my humans look out for you. It seems that I finally lucked out. As for
your
luck, however…”

Lothos’ words shuddered, and then fell apart in a peal of raucous laughter, which increased in volume as the bejeweled figures came forward.

Behind them, several corpses dropped, their heads rolling upon the floor, following their lifeless, drained bodies. From the scent alone, I knew that they had been my children. My heart wrenched with combined grief and rage at the sight of what Lothos’ disciples had done to my retinue of retainers and advance spies, but I quickly shook myself free of such emotions and focused on the soldiers that approached.

My first action was to blind the eyes of Lothos. If I were to die tonight, however unlikely, I would not give him the pleasure of seeing it. Through my Jewel, I extended the full destructive side of my will towards the messenger vampire, snapping every bone in his body. He did not resist as he crumpled to the ground and succumbed to the fire that I ignited from within. With my Jewel, I summoned a blast of wind to scatter his ashes, which might have healed into a withered husk maddened with thirst, given enough time.

The other vampires used that moment to attack, and launched themselves at me with ravenous alacrity. I re-constituted the atoms in the air to form a whip, which I flailed in a circular arc at preternatural speed. Some of the vampires were torn in half by its force; others, quicker to think of protecting themselves, were protected by their Jewels.

I ignited the bodies of the three vampires that I had halved, and struck violently against the two that remained. My mind cycled through defenses, countering every type of technique that the enemy could use against me: extinguishing fire, dispelling gravity compression, and deflecting hurled objects. These vampires were master thaumaturgists; Lothos had trained them well with their Jewels, but I was stronger.

The ensuing melee would have appeared to be a blurring flurry of limbs to any human observer, but my thoughts were focused upon their minds throughout the altercation. I waited, parrying blow after blow, and dissipating deadly Jewel effects, anticipating the moment when my foes would doubt their abilities. For in that moment, their control of the Jewels would falter, leaving them open.

It came when I cast them upon a far wall, and made my approach, beating away useless bolts of compressed plasma with my whip. I felt their hearts fail them for the instant I needed. In little time, their ashes joined their partners’, scattered throughout dusty air in the ruined club.

No humans were around. The echoes of their thoughts revealed that they all had fled, and none had allowed curiosity to overpower their terror to take any pictures. I sighed, enjoying what relief I could of it. There would need to be no damage control tonight.

I heard the approaching police sirens, and prepared to leave as Roland touched my mind, informing me that Amelia was with him and safe, much to my added relief. I had worried that she would not accept him, but his way with humans, especially females, had always been his strong point.

I hurried to the Lair with a renewed sense of dread. When Lothos made the first move, all proverbial bets were off.

Chapter Six

I had not been home for many days, and the joy of my return to the Lair was darkened by my foul mood and rent clothes. I should have known that Lothos would have learned of my ability to walk in the sun. It did not surprise me that he had kept this a secret. His proverbial “ace in the hole” had been well-played, and he had nearly won tonight.

I had been so distracted by Amelia that he had taken me completely off-guard in an area where my children had possessed a strong presence. Few of his clan ever dared to tread there, and yet five of his elite had managed to track and kill my hidden thaumaturgists, and then had the audacity to attack me publicly. If they had been tracking me for long, then Lothos would surely know about Amelia. What would I now do about her?

I had no sooner entered the main sitting room when I was at once crowded by my children, who had heard the news once Roland had arrived with a newcomer. All at once, I was bombarded with a cacophony of questions when I came through the door. I stopped their inquiries with a thought, and they awaited my words.

“Yes, I was attacked by Lothos’ children tonight,” I confessed before the assembly. “I don’t know what his next plans will be, or if this is an isolated incident, but in order to make certain that we have maximum safety, none of our kind, vampire or host, leaves the village without a partner until I say otherwise.

“Also, full lookout guard shall be placed at the village perimeters. Instructions for combat readiness will be deferred to Justin and Aiko. The main guard will report to them, and instructions for all other divisions will be forthcoming. For now, combatants will be on standby. Are there any questions?”

The assembly was quiet, responding only with their usual, “We obey, Master,” when I dismissed them.

Justin and Aiko, having returned to the Lair, came to my side at my command. I ordered them to gather and prepare as many active combatants as possible, soldiers and thaumaturgists alike. Spotting Roland in the crowd, I brought him to my side and instructed him to send my orders to the other villages.

“Is Amelia safe?” I asked afterwards.

“Quite safe, Master,” Roland said. “She’s in your room, waiting for you. She was right upset when I caught up with her. She ran like one of us, almost. It took awhile to catch up with her. You didn’t tell me that she became your host.”

“It was no one’s concern,” I said, more tersely than I wanted. “Is she hurt?”

Roland shook his head, and adjusted his shades. “No, Master. But like I said, she’s properly shaken.”

“Carry on with your orders,” I said before going towards the hallways of the residence wing. “Return to me when you come back, in my sitting room. There is still a matter to discuss with you.”

I felt his dismay; he had hoped that I would have forgotten about his infraction, and I had dashed those hopes quite soundly. Despite the happenings of tonight, Roland needed to understand that his actions would have consequences.

“Yes, Master,” he answered with a curt bow, and hurried out the door. Little did he know that I had already devised a fitting punishment. He would especially dislike it, but would survive. As a matter of fact, it would serve as a decent reminder for him to stay on the course of our cause.

* * * *

My chambers are a silent sanctuary from the madness of my life: a place where I allowed few of my children, and even fewer humans, to enter, save my sitting room. One effect of a consummate bond with my kind is that being in the presence of our very scent produces a calming effect, and so I allowed Amelia access to my bedroom, where my scent suffused everything.

My mind locked upon her thoughts as I traversed the corridors that led to her, and I knew that though she had indeed been calmed, she was not happy. Once I reached the door to my sitting room, I moved at preternatural speed to my bedroom beyond. My heart spilled out at the sight of her.

Amelia lay on her side upon my grand and long-unused bed. Her back was to the door, her mind a torrent of fear and sadness.

I gave a mental command to Justin to not allow anyone to disturb us, and closed the door behind me.

The doorknob clicked as it shut. Before I could say anything, Amelia spoke.

“Don’t tell me you know what I’m thinking,” she said. Her voice was quiet and almost mocking. “You’re not the only one in here who can read minds, you know.”

“Well, I know I’m the better one at it,” I said, allowing myself a hint of smugness. “You mind if I sit down?”

“It’s your bed.”

“You weren’t hurt, were you?” I asked, more for my benefit than for hers. Though Roland had assured me, I simply wanted to hear her confirm it.

“Only my pride,” Amelia said. “When I saw that giant dog, and then what you did to it…I ran. God, I feel like such a wuss!”

My hand went to her shoulder. “Amelia,
anyone
would’ve been scared in that situation. You know this.”

“But I told you I wouldn’t be any good for this war,” Amelia said, her voice breaking in frustration. I felt her sadness deepen, felt her beginning to cry. “Don’t you see? I don’t belong here!”

She rolled over and faced me with red rimming the white surrounding the slate gray in her eyes. She grasped my arm and squeezed it tightly as she picked herself up to my level, her bleary eyes pleading as she knelt before me. “Take it away, Talante, please! I’m a nobody; Lothos wouldn’t want me. I don’t want this war! I don’t want to remember how I came across that stupid house! I don’t want to remember anything!”

Her last words broke into dissonant half-sobs. She doubled over, bawling like a girl in her teacher’s arms after a confrontation with the school bully. I allowed her this chance to release her emotions. She was not the first human to react this way after seeing what Lothos could do. This was a cross she would have to learn to bear. After all, she was lying to herself even in her sorrow and fear.

“Not even me?” I said after she had regained most of her composure. “You want to forget me so badly?”

“Damn…You’re doing it again,” Amelia said. “I wish you weren’t a mind reader. I don’t know why I keep forgetting about that.”

“Humans often do.”

“You knew I was lying to myself, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t have to do this alone, right?”

“I promised you that you wouldn’t,” I assured her.

“Talante…”

Her heart quickened. I tried to refrain from reading her thoughts, but her present state made it impossible. I knew what she would do. I knew that I should not have allowed it, but I also knew that in our hearts, that proverbial line had been long crossed. The first drink was always a dangerous gamble with a human. And I lost.

“Yes, Amelia.” My voice was always calm, even in a fragile state. She found it far more comforting than my scent.

“Don’t ever leave me alone!”

“You know that I can’t,” I said as she looked into my eyes so deeply that I thought her steel-colored gaze would engulf me. I felt her sadness, and the soothing comfort of my presence compelling her to act upon her already rampant emotions.

“I could never…”

Her gray eyes sparkled in my chambers’ lamplight. And I felt her hands upon my shoulders. I touched her chin gently, and brought her closer.

“…ever…”

My skin was cold to her touch, but she did not seem to mind as it warmed quickly after contact with her…

…And especially when we kissed.

BOOK: From Slate to Crimson
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