Demon Vampire (The Redgold Series) (62 page)

Malio had found his hobby. He was going to study taxidermy while secretly plotting on how to use his skills on the four heirs that had hurt him so much. He was going to learn how to tear them apart and preserve them for all time, or at least part of them.

Malio stared at his father with complacency. “Are you done father? May I go now?” Malio said nothing of a hobby, or that he would even choose to correct his behavior.

“Yes, you may go now.” Ifrin sighed. He was not pleased.

Malio walked away, then turned before fully exiting the main hall. “I will be happy father. In the end, I will be happy and content with every action I perform. Do not worry father, I shall enjoy my work and weep with delight over its continuation.”

Malio's cryptic words left his father perplexed yet strangely satisfied. If Malio was to pursue revenge, he would at least be happy in doing so. That was enough for Ifrin, just enough to let it go. He felt that it was not a battle he could easily win with Malio, nor one that he wished to exact causalities for. Ifrin decided to leave it alone and let Malio be.

* * * *

Three more years passed as Malio learned the often twisted practice of taxidermy. He had become quite good at it. Lining the shelves in his great room and adjoining library with falcons, ravens, small crows, foxes, rabbits, squirrels, deer, goats, horses, and bears. All of which Malio bragged about personally hunting and slaying. He became proud of his efforts. Knowing his new found skill would one day be used upon his enemies, the other heirs.

It had been five and a half years in total since Malio had seen them. Since their lordship training had begun and his did not. In that time, they had all amassed lessons of bravery, tactics, and cunning to be applied to the battlefield and kingdom alike. They had become more than soldiers, they had become kings and queen in waiting.

Malio sat in his study, picking apart a bird when the letter of their return came. Malio opened it. They were to hold a banquet at Martin's castle. It was to be his coronation as king. Martin's father was stepping down as lord. He had chosen to bestow his throne to his son directly. The celebration was in two days.

Malio thought about burning the letter and pretending it never came. “Practice is a waste in the hands of a coward. I am no coward. I will use my talent, I am done with this practice. My toil is over.” Malio stood up and walked to his father's main hall.

Ifrin was sitting on his throne, startled by Malio's intrusion.

“Father, inform Martin's envoy that I will be in attendance at his coronation.” Malio said politely.

Ifrin looked up, haggardly at Malio. His strength fleeting him. Ifrin understood Malio's words, but lacked the concentration to respond. He was tired, hungry, and without will to feed. Ifrin had watched his only son grow vengeful and sadistic over the years. Before Malio, he was emotionally numb. It was affecting his health greatly.

An aide to the lord responded for him. “Of course your lordship, I will let them know while your father rests.” The aide was tall and gaunt. A handsome man dressed in striped brown and off white attire. His pants were pleated and his shoes pointed. He was the lord's messenger boy. A long white and black feather sat atop his short single tipped hat, which was also brown. He left quickly to inform Martin's envoy on foot. He only stopped at the entrance fountain to refill his water pouch. The young man left with speed. There was a halfway station that one messenger from each kingdom camped out at, he was off to inform that man and then return later on that night.

Malio had seen this messenger boy many times in his father's employ and always thought highly of him. The young man was barely seventeen, good-looking, and attractively fit. Everything Malio wished himself to be. Except for the fact of being human, Malio looked up to him. On many occasions Malio invited him in to play chess and other games. He had become a friend in a way that even Malio did not want to admit. In a way, Malio was glad that he was delivering the message. In Malio's mind, by proxy, the messenger conveyed a sense of strength and keen youth. Qualities Malio hoped to one day be known for. Malio smiled as he opened his closet doors to search for the perfect attire for the party. Even though there would be the other heirs to contend with, Malio vowed that he would enjoy himself.

The next day, by mid day Malio woke up. He was startled by what time it was. Normally the messenger boy, Mathew, would wake him with a glass of his own blood, freshly drained and ready to consume.

Today, Mathew was not there and Malio had slept in. Malio rushed downstairs to ask the staff if they had seen him. With no answer, he queried his father. “Have you seen the messenger? Have you seen Mathew?”

Ifrin sighed in dismay. “No.”

Malio continued to search the grounds to no avail. He eventually came to rest in Mathew's chambers after asking the staff to wake him early in preparation for the party. Malio spent the night in Mathew's bed.

The following evening Malio was gently roused by the castle staff. Malio was less than ready for the party. Is was dusk and it would soon be time to leave for the coronation. Malio hurried with the help of the entire staff. Ifrin readied himself with Malio needing all the attention for his wardrobe. After the staff had prepared a large feast to bring along, they all left for the event ahead for the royalty. Only a single coach waited with Millia inside for Malio and Ifrin. Eventually, Malio joined his father and mother for the trip.

More than an hour later Ifrin and his staff all arrived to a lavish spectacle. Martin's castle was draped in long flowing curtains of gold and purple. There were several long tables that lined the great central hall. They were filled with food from each of the five lands. For a moment, in this pleasant scene, Malio forgot the hatred and the malice he held for Martin and the others. For a brief second he considered letting it all go.

Malio, Ifrin, and Millia were ushered in by Martin's servants. Martin sat at the head of the table with his father and mother to his left. Teresa sat with him to his right. Phillipe and Timothy were next to her.

After Malio took his seat, Martin stood and asked for the staff to sit. He was about to make a speech. “Welcome everyone.”

Malio looked up at Martin's face, he had changed. He was now seventeen. A strapping young man with an even greater inner strength to him. All of the qualities he possessed in youth were present in his new form. Martin was tall at nearly six feet. His voice had a warm nature to it. Martin spoke as if he were reading poetry from the soul while using mere common words. Malio listened as Martin continued.

“I address you now not as a man, not as a prince, not as an heir, not as a vampire, but as the king of this land.” Martin's message was not threatening, nor was it boasting. It was calming. “In my youth, I witnessed many things that I did not approve, many things that I myself could have prevented.” Martin shifted his gaze to Malio. “Many things that I wish I could take back now.” Martin returned his eyes to the mass of people before him. “We all do things we regret, that we lament after the age of our youth. It is for that reason I come to you all tonight as a new king. It has been five years since I have seen most of you and more for some of you. I am pleased to know you all have come so far so that my eyes may witness your progress firsthand. For you all are the reason that I am here tonight. For my kingship means more to you all than you might be aware.” The room fell to a silent hush. “As you know I was crowned moments before you all arrived. A ceremony to anoint me as the ruler for this region. However, this was not the extent of what transpired.” Martin looked to Teresa and then back to the crowd. “Teresa, the soon to be appointed queen of her land has agreed to grant ownership of it to me as an endowment.”

The crowd gasped.

Malio clenched his napkin in his left hand. Martin was showing true promise. He was taking away Teresa's lands before she could use her influence to attack Malio.

“Yes, moments ago Teresa has accepted me as her husband and she my bride. Making this more than my coronation, this is now our wedding reception with the ceremony to follow.” Martin turned to his own father and to Teresa's.

Malio clenched his teeth.

“We will be joined under the laws of both our kingdoms.” Martin said proudly.

Everyone including every lord and lady, every king of their own land stood up in roaring applause. Everyone except Malio, which stared discontentedly at Teresa.

Eventually everyone sat and ate until it was time for the wedding at midnight. The moon was full and the sky was clear. The royalty gathered with their personal guard on the roof of the keep. Martin asked for Teresa's hand with all manner of pomp and stance a second time. Then as quick as it was grueling to Malio, it was over. The post wedding reception continued and Malio found a peaceful corner library in which to contemplate what the union meant to him.

“This is shit! Complete shit! Why does the one person that gives me hope, that begs for me to repent, become swayed by that temptress!? Why does she have to ruin my life!? And why does the one person that could actually comfort me not return to my arms?” Malio ranted loudly in the solitude he had found. Malio longed for a glimmer of happiness, to be able to believe Martin's words, to see his close friend's eyes again. “Mathew, where did you run off to?”

“So Mathew was his name after all?” A female voice spoke up from behind Malio. He knew instantly who it was, Teresa's foul tone was always telling of something cruel.

“What do you mean? You met him?” Malio asked feverishly.

“Of course I
met him
, one has to meet another to enjoy their company doesn't one?” Teresa's words were suggestive and rude.

“He was supposed to meet your envoy at the currier station between our kingdoms. Why did he come all the way here?” Malio asked Teresa.

“Our envoy was instructed to return here with the news directly. I first saw your Mathew at the front gate and offered for him to come in.” Teresa smirked fiendishly.

“Where is he?” Malio got to the point.

“I'm not sure. Let me think about it.” Teresa tilted her head side to side, lifting her eyes to the ceiling in self inquiry. “Why are you so concerned about the laity?” She pranced across the medium sized library room, placing one foot in front of the other in the way a child would play a balancing game.

Malio said nothing, studying Teresa for clues.

Teresa had changed as well. She was completely filled out. Her bust line sizing greater than her once famed hips. She was sharp to flaunt her figure when she wanted to gain an edge in any situation. Teresa's dress was low cut and revealing of most of her calf, an attire not befitting royalty of her day. Her long hair was now partially braided, but still reached past her waist line with ease.

Teresa's figure swayed back and forth as she walked past Malio. He ignored her at first, thinking she was merely teasing him with her beauty as she normally would. “Malio, can you think of where he might be? Does anything jolt your memory?”

Teresa's odd tipping movements began to draw Malio's attention more. He studied her, her lines, her body, her clothes, her face, her hair. There was something in her hair that was unique, something that Malio recognized. It was a long white and black feather nestled deep into her hair. “Mathew's feather!” Malio lunged at it.

Teresa had become fast in the five years she had been away. She easily dodged Malio and left him to fall on his face. “Oh, you're right!” Teresa said with enthusiasm. “This was the feather that messenger boy had in his cap when he came, didn't he?”

Malio swiped at Teresa's legs.

Teresa avoided Malio's grasp just as easily. “This was the feather he had as I lead him to my guest room.”

Malio understood instantly what that meant, the underlining context was obvious. “How the hell could you do that!? He was mine! How dare you, Teresa!?” Malio shouted.

“Queen Teresa, to you Prince Malio.” Teresa corrected Malio.

“Why!? Why him!?” Malio screamed at Teresa.

“Why? It wasn't because I was horny.” Teresa took the feather out of her hair and drug it across her cleavage. “It wasn't because I was hungry.” She traced the feather side to side along her neck. “It couldn't be for fun.” Teresa stopped and peered into Malio's eyes with a serious expression. “Wait, actually it was.”

“YOU BITCH!!!” Malio charged at Teresa with full force.

With Malio's large outburst, half the castle heard. Malio's sudden act of total aggression was instantly halted. Martin, that was several rooms away appeared in front of Malio in an instant. Martin struck Malio across the face with enough force to knock him into the stone wall. Malio's body crashed into it with a thud. Seconds later, Phillipe and Timothy showed up. They took a hold of Malio. His face was dripping with blood. The left side of Malio's cheek caved in and his left was eye shut. The vampire lords arrived shortly after. Everyone stood, viewing Malio as the clear assailant.

Malio's father looked at him with disgust. “Malio, how could you? You have disgraced our kingdom and the Signante name. Teresa is now the queen of the most powerful adjoining land in our region. Martin and Teresa were your childhood friends, why would you attack Teresa and offend Martin like this?”

Ifrin's words cut through Malio's heart. Any sense of family he once had was now striped from him. Ifrin's tone destroyed the last connection Malio had to anything good in his life. Malio tried to speak, his throat torn with grief, nothing came out. Despite the gushing blood running down his face, it was dry and constricted. His voice failed to say the words he wanted to cry out to all of them.