BEER

King Ambrose lived alone in a bungalow in Calais, Maine, a neighbouring town right on the Canadian border. Ever the minimalist, he traded his castle for a more ‘simple life’ as he called it after bequeathing his kingdom, and the other parts of the world, to my brothers and I.  He’s as ancient as they come but he doesn’t look a day over thirty. That’s one of the perks of being a vampire-you never age.

It’s a blessing and a curse.

He wore a dark grey T-shirt and matching cargo pants; his dark brown hair was covered by a baseball cap. You would think he was going to the beach in his attire but it was minus one degrees outside. To humans, this may be considered as “freezing cold” but we vampires rarely feel the elements of nature.

“The weather forecast stated that there might be a blizzard,” he said with a welcoming smile. “Yet you came all the way to see me.”

“I did. You always talk my ear off about not visiting you often, Father.” I haven’t visited this bungalow in years, not because I didn’t want to but I didn’t have the time to. Running a kingdom on your own, all while trying to keep the peace between the different clans so that there won’t be another war tends to eat up all your time.

There’s also those never ending paperwork.

“I was expecting you.”  He opened the door wide open. ‘’Come in and grab a beer.’’

The home hadn’t changed from the last time I remember it. Ambrose still had his old couch he bought from a travelling salesman back in the 1800s, his fireplace still brought out smoke from the chimney, his television was still yet to be replaced. He had the older model, hunchback sets that showed only three channels. I had offered severally to replace it but it was an antique item that he bought on one of his many travels to France.

On the cream walls were pictures of my siblings and I. Ambrose, unlike the rest of us, had not necessarily embraced all the technologies of man, but the one thing he kept with him was a camera. He always loved to document special family moments. We celebrated a few holidays that the humans embraced-birthdays, anniversaries, Christmas, Easter and those were the moments that were captured and framed.

I smile brightly at the picture Emily with a big grin on her face as she’s cutting  the very lavish cake I had the head baker make for her nineteenth birthday. Technically, she’s one-hundred-and-nine but she stopped aging at nineteen. She made a conscious decision to celebrate her nineteenth birthday every year because it reminded her of her past human life.

“How’s Emily?”

“She’s Emily. Being a nuisance with her experiments, but she’s doing well in the Witches Academy and is under the tutelage of Ellemea.”

Ambrose smiled brightly. “That’s wonderful. Tell her to come by often.” He gestured for me to take a seat. “Like I said, I was expecting you.”

“How so?”

“I’m always expecting any one of my sons. You and your brothers never come to visit anymore,’’ he put his hands on his chest. ‘’It hurts my old heart, you know?’’

“I see.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”  he asked.

Oh right.

I got up and bowed down in front of him and he drew a cross on my forehead. We are not religious. God already condemned our founding father, Satan and banned him from entering the heavens, but Ambrose liked to do this because he was once an English Catholic and the cross reminded him of his past life. It was something he held dear to his heart. At first I thought it was silly, but as the years went by, I got used to it.

‘’Get up, son.’’

I did as instructed and wiped the dust from my trousers with a handkerchief. He gave me a look I knew all too well. He was aware that something was bothering me. The thing about Ambrose was that he was very intuitive and quick-witted. A former man of battle, he was always aware of danger. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was aware of my problem with the wolves.

He’s my sire after all.

“What’s on your mind, son?’’

“This may be impudent of me, but I need something from you.’’

‘’What is it?’’

“The sapphire ring.’’

He opened the can of beer and took a small sip. “Why do you need it?’’

“For Dahlia,’’ I said simply. There’s no point in lying to him. He’s bound to find out sooner rather than later.  I didn’t mention that Emily requested for the ring also because she can get it on her own.  Of the six of us, Ambrose has a soft spot for her. She’s the youngest and daddy’s little girl.

“Why does she need it?’’

“I bought a pet a few days ago and she’s different. I don’t know how to explain it, but she’s not…human. To top it all off, I don’t think she knows she’s not human.’’

“Since when did you care about human pets?”

“Father, that’s not the point,” I sighed. “And unlike you, I tend to care for my possessions, human or not.”

“You are fond of taking in strays, just like how you adopted that human boy.”

“His name is Thomas,” I gritted my teeth. “I’ve corrected you a billion times.”

I found Thomas in the human village of Carisole one night when I was out on a hunt. He was scruuny, malnourished and was on the verge of death due to starvation and dehydration. I was aware that the vampire takeover was in no way favourable to the humans, but that couldn’t be helped. Ambrose had been planning the attack on the humans for centuries, and as his sire, adoptive son and a member of the Malvado, I had a duty to make sure that his intentions came into fruition, regardless of how I felt  about the situation.

My first instinct was to use him as my dinner, but he looked pitiful and innocent. He reminded me of myself when I was a young human. I couldn’t kill him. He needed saving and so I saved him like Ambrose saved me.

He raised his hand in mock surrender. “No need to get your tie in a twist. I was just messing with you. You seem to like the humans for some reason.”

I don’t necessarily like humans. I just don’t believe in them being unnecessarily killed in drones.

“Back on the subject, you want the sapphire ring?”

“Yes and No. I need it to find out more about my pet and-”

“Let me guess, Dahlia said she’d help you if you gift her the sapphire ring.’’

I nodded my head vigorously and he sighed. He took another swig of his beer with force.

“Witches, can never trust them son, remember that.’’ Oh, I know. ‘’Did I ever tell you the origin of that ring?’’

“Yes.’’ I answered. “The witch from Spain story.’’

“That’s part of the story. That ‘witch from Spain’ is actually named Drisellda and she was Dahlia’s sister.”

Dahlia had a sister?

He held my eyes. “I see this news to you? I would have thought she mentioned that to you since you two are,” he gives me a knowing smirk. “close.”

Our…situationship wasn’t a secret to my family. I’m pretty sure Ambrose knew we were messing around back when she was his special adviser.

“Indeed. She never mentioned that she had a family, talk less of a sister.”

“Drisellda wasn’t the nicest creature on the planet. I’m no saint but she was a specialist in hexes and curse magic. That kind of power, when wielded by a...mad woman is bigger than any nuclear weapon of mass destruction created by humans. As you are well aware, the Orthodox church sought to ‘purify’ her so she got rid of her body and transferred her soul into the ring.’’

I try to connect the pieces together. If Drisselda and Dahlia are related, that means…

“Dahlia wants to bring Drisellda back to life, I think,’’ he confirmed my thoughts. ‘’I don’t know what her intentions are, but I highly doubt they are pure.’’

“If you didn’t trust Dahlia, why did she become your special adviser?’’

Trust and loyalty are the two qualities he cherished  the most. It doesn’t make sense that he’d keep Dahlia by his side for over a century if there wasn’t an iota of trust.

“To keep the peace.’’ His hands moved to grab another beer from the table. “It’s a political strategy, son. I wanted the witches to trust me and there’s no better way of earning that than by making their most powerful witch an important personnel in my kingdom.’’

He offered me a beer. ‘’Want one?’’

I scrunched my nose in disgust. ‘’No.’’

I don’t understand how humans and Ambrose can stand that vile drink. It’s repulsive with a bitter taste that leaves a permanent imprint in your mouth for hours once you get it into your system. Don’t even get me started on human blood laced with alcohol. Disgusting.

“More for me then.’’

“Suit yourself.’’

“Son, I may be over eight-hundred solar cycles but believe me when I say this,’’ he paused for dramatic effect. “I smell a storm coming and I don’t like it.’’

I smell it too and I’m not pleased by it either. I’ve been able to run my kingdom thus far without protests or rebellion from the humans, witches and werewolves. Now, it feels like a war is brewing.

“Sebastian hasn’t gotten back to me yet. Sent a message via pigeon a week ago and he hasn’t responded.’’ He said, worry gracing his eyes. Sebastian and Ambrose were once enemies, naturally because they were the leaders of the warring species, but as the years went on, and with the signing of the pact, they cultivated a civil relationship. Dare I say that they became friends because they go fishing together on Sundays.

“Did you try calling him?”

“You know I don’t use human technology.” He tossed the empty beer cans in the trash can next to him. “Besides, he always answers my pigeon messages. Something is going on. It has been a week since I sent it.”

Odd.

“He also didn’t show up for our fishing date on Sunday.”

I rose up to leave, an unsettling feeling finding its way to the pit of my stomach. The blizzard that was forecasted never occurred. Light snow pelted the windows and the sky had already grown dark.

“Remember, son, witches can’t be trusted.”