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Arc 3: All That Glisters (Part 8)
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2024-10-29 19:42:56Related chapters
Reborn to Love: A Vampire's Fate Arc 3: All That Glisters (Part 9)
For the subsequent week-and-a-half, Scintilla seems to go through a metamorphosis. She catches up to me a little in sorcery and surpasses me in most of the more physical aspects of immortality. She’s always been better than me at seeing in pitch dark, but she’s stronger than me now (though I have more experience so I still spar better than she does), and she seems to hear better as well. It’s pretty obvious that she’s finally figured out the trick to her bloodline curse and is gradually beginning to embrace it. And I, too, deliberate on trying to reach a similar epiphany. Before I can corner her for a conversation about it, however, she gets to me about a very different topic. It happens at Katy’s flat. It’s Friday night (or as good as, since it’s barely after midnight). Both her flatmates are out, and Katy herself is, as usual, still at work. She lives modestly, her only luxury being a large collection of first edition encyclopaedias. I’m flipping through one of her rare personal bo
Reborn to Love: A Vampire's Fate Arc 3: All That Glisters (Part 10)
‘The letters weren’t explicitly intimate,’ I say, but I concede Scintilla’s point: ‘They were close enough to it, though.’ I pause, considering my words. ‘Of course, I asked him about that, asked him why he never told me. And he—he implied that I never agreed to be transformed.’ ‘Oh,’ Scintilla says. There’s a pause in which I think she must be pitying me. ‘So it’s not that I don’t like him,’ I conclude when the silence becomes too much. ‘I just haven’t been able to figure out how I feel about him, and he’s been decent enough to keep his distance.’ I hoped Scintilla might be satisfied with the conversation, but instead she presses on, ‘But what about this week? What changed?’ It’s a much more awkward question, considering the change was Scintilla. ‘This week…’ I begin, hesitating on my phrasing. Just then, Scintilla returns the brightness settings to what they were before we came, then shuts the laptop and readjusts the position of the wireless mouse. ‘Are we done?’ I check my mo
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Canus’s head of staff is Simon, who I suspect might even be older than Canus. He has the ageless white hair and flawless skin common in legacy thralls, maybe even by multiple generations—he slips into a tongue that I suspect might be Middle English sometimes. Before he sends us home, he tells us that he and Margaret will take shifts watching over Katy during the day, while Scintilla and I will alternate between watching over Katy at night. If this had happened before I’d gotten mysteriously sent back to the past, I wouldn’t have blinked. Right now, however, Canus only has five thralls and two progeny, which means that sending out a member of each group will render us even more short staffed than we already are. ‘We need more thralls,’ I mutter to Scintilla in the back seat of the cab on our way back to Canus’s estate. ‘We should probably send the thralls out in pairs to cover daytime protection, and, whichever one of us takes the night shift, we should also be accompanied by another
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My chance to catch Canus in a conversation comes the next evening, after Scintilla volunteers to take the first shift to watch over Katy. I walk with her to the front door, then double back to Canus’s rooms to see him still reclined in his chaise longue, scrolling through his mobile. The cold light of its screen illuminates his face from below, glancing across the elegant ridge of his brow. He glances up when I step inside again, languidly inquisitive. ‘You’ll need more blood from now on, won’t you?’ A small furrow appears on his forehead. ‘Yes,’ he says, tone hesitant. He mentioned not three minutes ago that he would recruit more thralls to help watch over Katy; it’s not a difficult inference to make that he might need more sustenance on a more sustained basis. I just stand there, waiting for him to explain. ‘I was planning on supplementing my diet with mortals,’ he eventually admits. Though he’s looking levelly into my eyes, his expression is carefully blank. There’s something
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The next couple of weeks are exhausting—so exhausting, in fact, that I table my plan of trying to have a conversation with Canus. He’s slippery, and I’m both tired and distracted. Scintilla and I have been taking turns watching over Katy. We’re usually accompanied by thralls now, at least one at any given time, so it’s less dangerous. Still, though, it’s a lonely prospect; thralls aren’t very good conversationalists, and I haven’t seen Scintilla for more than minutes at a time since we first discovered Claudia’s scent trail in Katy’s stairwell. It’s been a little more than a fortnight since then, and we’ve encountered no less than three instances of other scent trails appearing suspiciously close to various places that Katy likes to frequent. Scintilla finds one scent trail in one of the hospitals where Katy works, though two storeys above the unit where her shifts are normally scheduled. Scintilla describes the scent as masculine but clean, like sandalwood and snow. It’s not a descri
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‘You have to turn her soon,’ I tell Canus after we return to the estate and I allow him to drink from me for the second time tonight. ‘I can’t last like this.’ He licks his lips, a flash of scarlet sweeping away a streak of crimson that had marred the pale stretch of his bottom lip. I watch the movement, so mesmerised that I almost startle when his lips part further and he says, ‘I will. I plan to ask for permission at court this Sunday.’ Even vampire lords like Canus need the Prince’s permission to add to the vampire population of a city, though for Canus it’s more of a formality than anything else. I make a plaintive face at him. ‘Why didn’t you ask last month?’ We could have avoided all this mess if we’d managed to turn Katy immediately after discovering Claudia’s scent. His gaze suddenly turns cool and assessing. ‘Are you questioning me?’ Once, I might have quailed, but I no longer fear his potential discipline, so instead I say, ‘It’s me you’re drinking a double helping from.
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Canus’s decision, as reluctant as it is, seems to please Scintilla. She thanks him and leaves the room, giving me a brief smile on her way out. Meanwhile, Canus begins to explain what I’ll need for court tomorrow. I tune him out, however, listening instead for Scintilla’s footsteps to fade out of hearing. ‘…not greet anyone else with any deference, as you—’ ‘Sire,’ I interrupt quietly, ‘did Scintilla give any other reasons for not going to court tomorrow?’ Canus blinks. ‘Hasn’t there been a suspicious lack of foreign scents lately? She claimed she would be a better guard. Her sorcery has been improving drastically in the past month or so, and she’s always been better at physical combat than you.’ ‘Oh, right,’ I say. ‘If I may, Sire, I’ll see you in the evening? I just remembered that Katy changed her schedule a little, so I need to tell Scintilla about it before she turns in for the morning.’ ‘Have her help you pick out appropriate clothes, then. I’ll instruct you further in etiqu
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Canus stares at me, expression unreadable. There’s the soft wet sound of his throat working, then the barest snick of his lips parting. ‘How much do you…’ he begins to ask, but trails off without finishing. The silence stretches on for a long time before I take pity on him: ‘Remember from my human life? I’ve gotten flashes. When we first met in the café, some of the dinner parties you hosted. That time you took me to a conference in Rome.’ For a moment, I can almost remember the taste of rooibos tea, smell the warm scent of freshly baked lemon cake, see the glitter of the Tiber river at noon. He lets out a soft breath. ‘The early days, then.’ He sounds relieved. I realise that I’d been wrong about something. ‘Why don’t you want me to remember more?’ As much as he’s still in love with Aura, he’s also terribly afraid of her. He shakes his head, refusing to answer. ‘Have you gone back to your flat again?’ ‘When would I have had the time?’ I return. Actually, I mostly haven’t gone ba
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‘Please, my lady, there’s no one else!’Strangely enough, the man pleading to me from outside the reception chamber sounds completely mortal. He must have been a thrall at some point, but he can’t be any longer, not with that level of emotion to his voice.‘Simon, let him approach.’Simon gives me a look that speaks volumes of my presumed softness, which I pretend to ignore. To him, this is the first time that I've held court as Canus’s representative, but I’ve done it before, a time or two, back during my first life. It takes a moment, but Simon eventually unbars the door, letting in the human. Only two other petitioners are in the room, and though they seem annoyed, they also make no move to protest as I skip over their non-queue.As the human approaches, I realise that he’s somewhat familiar. I’ve seen him before. At court? No—he looked younger back then, barely more than a teenager, and he’d been immortal when we met, barely more than a newborn and stuck fast to his master, a dark
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Canus and I don’t bother going in the front door. Instead, we peek around to the back. Only when we see a ghastly hole in the ground in the cemetery, raw soil overturned atop the lawn where Katy’s grave must have been, do we continue on inside.The halls are unlit and tranquil, but Canus doesn’t hesitate as he takes the winding turns that lead him to a suite of rooms that I don’t remember ever noticing before. It’s in an entire different section of the estate than the wing where Scintilla and I were assigned rooms. It’s been somewhat hastily refurbished, the must of decades of neglect mixing in with the sharp smell of self-assembly furniture.The door has been left ajar, and Canus and I slip in the small reception area just as Scintilla slips out of what must be Katy’s bedroom.‘Sire,’ she whispers, head bowed.I catch her gaze when she looks up and flash her a supportive smile. She doesn’t return it, but something about her bearing softens just the slightest.Canus jerks his chin tow
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The last thing Canus remembers is the sheer devastation of it all—the bitterness that had seeped into his very core, the pain and regret in her eyes, the purity of her confusion as he gave her his last order. And then there was pain. And then there was nothing. Then, quite suddenly, there was something. There was rain, each droplet splashing down against the roof in a familiar arrhythmic patter, banging against window panes in similar fashion. There was the silken slide of his shirt against his skin, the press of firm cushions against his back. He was slowly lifting out of his trance. He’s always been slow to wake in the evenings, just like he’d been slow to wake from sleep as a mortal. He makes use of his grogginess well, however. Letting it dissipate as he collected his thoughts. Meditation, as he learned from a pair of old acquaintances—mystics of a rare western school of Buddhism—was an invaluable tool in the life of an immortal. It was a habit that he’d practised since long
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The car swerves—that’s how startled Canus is by my question. When he regains control of it again, his fingers are tight around the leather of his steering wheel.‘Come again?’ he says. ‘I could have sworn that you said—’‘That Annia is convinced that I’m to be the Starlight Queen? Yes, I did. She saw me eavesdropping on Chryseus and didn’t report it to him, as far as I can tell. Lady Chalcea seems to trust her, too.’It’s not until the last sentence that Canus seems to relax a little. I grin to myself. For all that he calls her a spoiled brat, Canus still trusts his sister’s judgement.‘She was the one who took me to the shrine and told me who the Starlight Queen was supposed to be,’ I continue. ‘That is, after I accidentally lost my temper at her.’It feels so easy to tell Canus the truth, like some great burden is being lifted from my shoulders. I once imagined myself to be a practised hand at secrecy, but that was when I still had Scintilla or Chryseus in which to confide. I hadn’t
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‘I love you, too, Favilla. Always have, always will,’ he says. It’s as gentle as I’ve come to expect of him, as steadfast and sincere as I could ever wish for. We stare into each other’s eyes for a moment, and then, as one, we say, ‘I’m sorry.’ We both pause, then open our mouths, then close them upon seeing our actions mirrored in one another. ‘You first,’ I say when I open my mouth again. ‘You have nothing to be sorry about,’ he says. ‘I do,’ I insist. ‘I’m sorry I did that to you. I didn’t mean to. You were never supposed to be the one to find me. I was—’ I pause, realising that it might not necessarily be the best path to follow. I start again: ‘I mean, I know I’m not Aura any longer, that she was the one who made the decision, that she was probably very ill and in a very bad place mentally, but I still feel responsible, somehow, for putting you through that. Please, let me apologise for that, at least.’ He seems to consider it for a moment, but then he nods, mind made up. ‘
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‘It was grandad’s, you know. An antique, though I suppose not quite so antique as you.’ It had a smooth handle worn down by three generations of use, and it kept its edge remarkably well considering it went about a dozen years without anyone bothering to check on it.‘I did keep it, yes,’ Canus confesses.‘It’s pretty, isn’t it?’ I remember how its silver blade flashed in the dim and flickering candlelight. Looking back, I recognise how silly it was to put a tealight in the sink to see by. My thought process had been that, even if some strange happenstance knocked it over, I’d at least be certain that it wouldn’t catch the entire block on fire. I could have used proper lights, I suppose, but I was loath to waste electricity if it was going to be ages before anyone found me. If I were to die, I could at least help spare the planet from a similar fate.At first there was nothing, and then it hurt so much that I could barely slash my other wrist as well. Shortly thereafter, the cold came
Reborn to Love: A Vampire's Fate Arc 4: Those Left Behind (Part 10)
Not much has changed since I last visited less than two months ago. The scent of my human self is worked into every corner, overlaid by a strange sense of corruption. I briefly seat myself on the back of the settee, looking around the cramped space. As Canus mentioned, the kitchen table is missing from its place. Otherwise, the cabinets are all shut, and all the flat surfaces are empty safe for the thinnest layer of dust—no humans, no dead skin cells, no new dust being generated.I grimace and stand up. Walking into the bedroom, I see empty air where previously were the scattered personal effects that Canus had originally deemed too sensitive for me to see. They, of course, are hidden away in my study back at the estate, and, as loath as I am to agree with Canus, I still have yet to page through them properly.‘A bit of a let-down,’ I comment. ‘I thought you said I’d remember something.’Canus says, practically into my ear, ‘Don’t pretend you don’t know where I need you to go.’I jump
Reborn to Love: A Vampire's Fate Arc 4: Those Left Behind (Part 9)
With my new revelation, tracking down three more victims and feeding Canus in between hunting is relatively trivial. It puts a new spin on the act, however. The pain that I derive from Canus’s feeding is no less than before, but now it comes with a sense of vindication. Now, every time he pulls away and licks my blood from his lips, I see the hidden emotions dwelling in their depths—guilt and desire. Suddenly, I feel bad for him. I even feel the barest twinge of sympathy for Chryseus. The two of them have been hit the worst by the bloodline curse, enough so that they’ve been forced to feed on their progeny. What’s more, I suddenly understand that they must hate it, that they must hate seeing the source of their guilt every day, to feed from us time and time again. ‘It’s always like this, isn’t it?’ I ask after I come back from my last victim, healed and more fully sated than I’ve ever been. ‘The guilt?’ Very carefully, Chryseus nods. ‘That’s the real curse, I think. My Father likes
Reborn to Love: A Vampire's Fate Arc 4: Those Left Behind (Part 8)
All thoughts of sustenance escape me. I stand, frozen, watching the bright glint of luminescence that is my mark slip further and further down the corridor before turning in the direction of the tearoom. The bleached white walls and linoleum flooring are dark without her presence, but I don’t even care. I’m remembering back to a conversation I had with Chryseus. It doesn’t count, I said, laughing. Your progeny are all older than me. Then I’ll ask Father for another progeny, Chryseus replied, a glint in his eyes. It’s been decades since my last. He’ll accept. It won’t be the same, I insisted. You wouldn’t get to see them as a child. We can adopt a mortal baby, then. If we ask Father for special permission, I’m sure he’ll agree, especially if we raise it as a witch. If the baby is raised as non-human, then the secrecy laws won’t apply. Okay, I said, heart in my throat. Alright. I once considered it to be the moment I fell in love with him. ‘Favilla?’ Canus asks. I blink. There’s
