CHAPTER THREE - RASMUS

“Yes, understood. Thank you” 

I hung up the call and threw the mobile onto my bed, sighing. Of all the advancements made in the last century, mobile phones have got to be the worst. I hated the sense of obligate availability. It used to be that people would have to line up for my time, but I was a prince no longer. No, now I had real problems.

I snorted, that availability Lars didn’t seem to have. I’d called him 3 times since my latest meeting and he still hadn’t responded. Anyone else I’d be furious, but I trusted Lars with my life. I chuckled to myself again. Perhaps that wasn’t the best phrase for the man who turned me into the monster I am? 

I can’t fault him though. Bragi had claimed to be the local doctor. When I’d been struck down on that ill fated hunting trip, Lars had searched for someone to heal me. Maybe he just couldn’t stand to lose another to the pox? At any rate, Bragi had asserted that he could save me. I don’t think anyone could have dreamed up the method he used. 

After I died, the horror of my new state was a heavy blow. I knew I could never return home. I had lost everything. Everything but my life. Lars was overcome with grief and guiltily begged Bragi to turn him too. He sacrificed himself to this infernal oblivion so that I wouldn’t be alone. No, I could never doubt his loyalty. His lack of contact is concerning though; when you’re an ousted prince at the head of a vampiric humanitarian effort, no news is never good news. 

I sighed heavily and threw myself onto the bed next to my absurdly mute device. The last 300 years had given me ample investment opportunities and, after a decade of wallowing, I’d turned the funds these investments gave me into social and community projects. Noone would guess they were all cover stories to help me bring vampires into the 21st century. I shuddered as I allowed myself to visualise the moment I’d returned home. 

I’ll never forget entering the castle grounds with Lars, only to be greeted by guards like me. They’d been silent in the face of my many and repeated questions. Wordlessly they had walked me to my own throne room where my cousin had installed herself on the throne. 

Carlotta Danneskiold. Once a beautiful young lady with licorice coloured locks. Her creamy skin was now pallid, rubescent lips pulled thin and a malevolent gleam like oil in the inky puddle of her eyes. I’ll never forget my shock as I turned away from her to see the entire court were now the monstrous beasts I cringed away from. Some of them looked terrified.

“Cousin” Carlotta’s once melodic cadence was now more screech than voice and grated on my ears “It seems we have more in common now than ever. Clearly, I am not vacating the throne any time soon.” The carmine smear of her mouth had turned up at the corners in a cruel smile. One that showed too many teeth to be sincere. 

“What have you done?” I kept my voice low so that only those closest to me could hear 

“Who are you to question the Queen?!” A tall man with the largest moustache I had ever seen demanded.

“The man who should be king” came Lars’ level tone from somewhere on my right. I put my arm out across him to prevent him taking another step. We were clearly in a hostile environment and outnumbered 3 to 1 in the room alone. 

“Perhaps the lille konge should leave before he loses more than just the throne.” Another man I did not recognise stepped forward. His eyes swirled like slices of malachite and his floppy black hair was out of place in palatial court. He glared down his angular nose at us. He made a gesture with the index and middle fingers of his right hand and the guards that escorted us pushed closer.

“Lord Brandt?” said the tall blonde

“Remove them” came this pompous ass’ response.

Lars stepped forward and this time I took hold of his left arm. He looked back at me and I slowly shook my head. “I did not return for the throne” I muttered.

The blonde and his colleague walked us back down the winding corridors from whence we came. Then took a turn which was once toward the kitchens. The stopped abruptly and turned to us.

“Most of the people here were turned by force” 

“What?”

“I am Torstein, sire” the blonde gestured toward his friend “and this is Mathias. Many of the courtiers agreed to be turned. I guess the idea of lording it over the rest of us for all eternity was appealing” 

Mathias spat on the floor, disgusted. Then he looked up at me “You are Frederik’s son?”

“Yes” I answered simply. This revelation had knocked me for six. Carlotta and her court had accepted vampiric damnation just to maintain status? That made no sense. 

“My father was part of your father’s court. After your presumed death, he was devastated. My father always said he was a good man but he couldn’t cope without his sons.”

“My brother-“ I stopped. I had returned to see my brother’s descendants but there were none. 

“He died my liege. 18 months after you disappeared. The king could not take it, after your mother had died the year previous. He followed shortly after” 

“What took Cassian?” 

“Nobody knows, sire. It was all kept hushed. One moment he was there and the next there was no sign of him. Many suspected foul play but there’s never been any proof” Mathias spoke in hushed tones, though I could sense there was noone near us. 

“We’d like to pledge ourselves to you –“

“No” I interrupted Torstein. “No, if you simply cross sides you’ll be killed. I have nothing and nowhere to keep you. I am not in a position to keep you safe. What of the people?”

“They are all turned sire. Most under duress. The male children were turned once they reach 21. The females when they were 16. We are isolated here; the outside world is now a nightmare.” 

“Stay here. Be my eyes on the inside. I will formulate a plan.” Both men went down on their left knees, right hands in fists over their hearts

“Yes sire” 

Lars and I made our way from Castle Lyksborg in silence. It wasn’t until we left the castle grounds that Lars turned to me

“What are we going to do?” His navy eyes were on fire, his red beard rising and falling rapidly as it sat over his huge barrel of a chest, arms crossed over himself as if to prevent himself doing something stupid

“We can’t do nothing! Let me go back there and rip that bitch limb from limb!”

“No. Carlotta is too well protected there. Besides she’s a woman. And my cousin” 

Lars snorted derisively. “She’s no woman. And some family!” 

“Lars. The people.” My throat closed up, just thinking about the horror Carlotta had unleashed.

“Your people” 

I nodded solemnly. “We're going to help my people” 

I spent the next few decades trying to educate my new people on the world as it moved on without them. Electricity, running water, sales taxes, public healthcare, automobiles – bloody mobile phones! None of it seemed to make a blind bit of difference when, 130 years ago – give or take – people started dying. Like, really dying. Not whatever this vampire sorcery is. Then they just didn’t stop. Even Carlotta is worried. 

We found Annalise – or Lady Tischler – a few decades back. She was forcibly turned by her future father-in-law after her family had unwittingly orchestrated a marriage to a vampire. After she didn’t immediately become the demure wife they wanted, they killed her family. Which, oddly enough, didn’t make her any more meek and mild. I smirked to myself; it turns out that killing an opinionated, straight forward woman, doesn’t make her any less opinionated or straight forward. I should check in on her too; after we found her and helped her assimilate to her new life, she swore allegiance to me. Which was excellent for a few decades, until she became convinced that Carlotta is responsible for the sickness that now plagues us and wrangled herself into the court to try and uncover some plot. I can’t believe Carlotta would be stupid enough to kill off her subjects – she’s too obsessed with power to want to become the Queen of Nothing. 

The ringing of my phone broke me out of my reminiscing. 

“Lars”

“Sorry boss. There have been several meetings. Carlotta’s henchman Magnus has been all over this. Even that glorified overgrown mosquito Sebastien looks scared.”

“Lars” I interjected.

“Yes?”

“Why have there been several meetings Lars?” I rolled my eyes, wondering what had rendered my old friend stupid.

“Shit. It’s the Dumonceaus”

That got my attention and I gripped the phone a little tighter. “Explain”

“What’s to explain? They’re dead. All dead. The whole family.” 

It’s a good thing I no longer breathe through necessity. This news had just rendered me mute. Not a single thought crossed my mind. The Dumonceaus were an old, noble family from The Netherlands. They were also a strong ally. Largely ambivalent to who was on the throne, they were decidedly unimpressed with Carlotta’s choice to mandate the transition to vampires. Now they were gone.

“All of them?” 

“All that were at the estate. We still don’t know how this thing spreads and it's been years Rasmus. Decades! If Lise doesn’t find out what Carlotta’s up to soon, we’ll all be dead”

“It’s not Carlotta. Why would she want to be Queen of Nothing?”

“She’s hardly stable Ras” 

“Even so. We’ll have to regroup” I sighed “Get yourself back to the manor house. I’ll meet you there.” I ended the call. Suddenly claustrophobic in my apartment. I stood up and grabbed my jacket, flinging it back over my shoulders as I snatched up my coat. I started breathing again in the lift down to street level. It seemed like no one was safe but the fact that people were dying on both sides of this stupid divide didn’t help. For 150 years my people have been dying and nothing and no one can help them. Carlotta does nothing but sit in her ivory tower, well, my family castle. Then again, what can she do? She probably has physicians looking into it but even modern medicine can’t save them. 

I closed my eyes and tipped my head back toward the sky as I stepped outside. There are whispers of some kind of ‘chosen on’ a saviour of our species. I scoffed as my long strides ate up the street. If they exist, they’re 150 years late. I sighed as I turned the corner; I had no real destination, but my feet were carrying me in the opposite direction of all the commuters rushing about the dank streets. The harsh glow of the supermarket lights lit up the pavement in front of the store. I wandered in; perhaps they’d have invented some new, interesting thing. 

It was busy. I stopped at the end of an aisle as a large lady with some straggling children made their way round. Unable to move due to the large display of new soda flavours which blocked off the right end of the aisle. Irritated, I looked to my right, and any and all air left me for the second time today. 

Coming toward me was a vision. An absolute vision; I’m talking Botticelli’s Aphrodite walking toward me down the aisle.  Long, chestnut hair fell in waves around her elfin-shaped face, over her shoulders and down her back. A snub nose centred on her face, which ended in full-ish petal pink lips and a softly pointed chin. It was her eyes that captivated me though, unfocused as they were. The deepest blue I’d ever seen; a deep navy where the catchlights looked like twinkling stars across a midnight sky. Wait, why am I drawn to her? Is she?

And then all air left my body for the third time in 30 minutes as her shopping cart smashed into my crotch.