“Hegemon Blackwood prefers the lights on. Doesn’t want the advantage.” There was grudging admiration in his voice, with an undercurrent of disgust that I heard because I was listening for it. “Right turn, here at the first junction.”
“And I’m just supposed to come in and clean up the bodies when he’s done, right? It’s bullshit, like I said.” I ran ahead to block his path. “Sebastian’s dumping this on me to fuck with my head, Ash and you’re helping him. Why?”
“Wasn’t always like this,” he muttered.
“Yeah, so Caroline keeps telling me. That doesn’t explain why you didn’t just put the sonofabitch out of his misery fifteen or twenty years ago when you saw it wasn’t getting any better.”
The storm-blue eyes found mine again. “It wasn’t like that. All this, it happened gradually, a piece at a time. Not as easy as you think to see where things are leading.”
“Fine,” I acknowledged. “But now you can. You know exactly what he’s doing and you know where he sleeps—”
“Look, you think you’re the first guy to come in and start talking like that?” Some of the spirit seemed to flow out of him and he leaned back against one of the stone walls, tilting his head toward the sky. “I doubt you’d understand what I meant if I spoke of things like duty and commitment, so I won’t even bother.”
I stayed quiet.
“This isn’t a normal, human place that can operate by normal, human rules. Nobody comes here who hasn’t already had some experience in a high security environment. Even so, it’s a tough atmosphere to work in. The ones who snap end up in the cellar or worse. We’ve got a ten percent suicide rate among the island’s staff and that’s down from ten years ago. Part of my job is screening out the people who can’t handle this place. The unfortunate side effect is that you end up with guys like Wilkes. You say the wrong thing to the wrong person and it’ll get back to the Hegemon. If I don’t do my job to the best of my abilities, he’ll replace me with somebody who will. At least I know I’ll attend to my duties without deliberate cruelty.”
“Yeah, well, I’m sure your business-like manner is a great comfort to your victims.”
Next thing I knew, there was an elbow slamming into my diaphragm. The breath rushed out of my lungs and Ash shoved me against the wall, my arms pinned at my sides. “I didn’t say it was perfect, goddammit, I said it’s what I can do! You got any relatives? Friends? Wait till it’s people you care about being tortured while you watch. At this very minute, the FBI’s running a background check on you, compiling names for him…”
The naked pain in his voice scared me more than the images his words brought to mind. It honestly wasn’t something that I’d considered at that point but I had no doubt Sebastian would do it. It was right out of the Evil Overlord Handbook, after all.
“But if Sebastian wasn’t around anymore—”
“The entire continent of North America could erupt into war.” The former Marine folded his muscle-corded arms over his broad chest. “Without the Hegemon, there’s nothing keeping the Governors in line. Imagine America pulling itself apart in a new civil war, possibly while under attack from both Mexico and Canada. After the news got out, Europe and the other Domains would jump in to help ‘stabilize’ things. It’d be a God-damned free-for-all.”
“Whoa, wait, what about the fucking president? Or Congress? You really think everything would just fall apart if Sebastian and his flunkies weren’t holding it together? That’s stupid!”
Ash nodded. “Oh, they’d surely try. The problem is that historically, smooth operation of government is not what happens when vamps fight over a prize as juicy as North America. Power shifts, alliances are made and broken. Things fall apart, in other words. Now, it might not go as badly as all that but it’s not a chance I’m willing to take. Not with America. If you want any chance of surviving here and helping Caroline, then you better learn how to do what you can. We understand each other?” he asked.
I nodded.
His mask of calm discipline fell back into place and he led me further into the maze to explain specific procedures. I pulled out my notebook and jotted down the rights and lefts, wishing I’d played a little more Dungeons and Dragons. The mapping skills would have come in handy.
* * * * *
After I’d been trained in all the basic functions of my new post, Sebastian appeared and demanded a live demonstration. Wilkes had left a Dhampir police officer for Sebastian to hunt while Ash was showing me short cuts. It wasn’t pleasant but I kept Ash’s words in mind and did my job. I opened the gate and climbed up to the small viewing deck on the side so I could see where Sebastian left the body.
I won’t go into detail, since I didn’t watch most of it but I did see Sebastian leap one of the eight-foot stone walls and what I heard of the kill itself was pretty awful.
I got to hold Sebastian’s robe for him while he hunted, so one of the more awkward moments of the night came when I met him at the opening and he just let me stand there with it. I’ve always been a little body shy around other guys, so imagine how much fun I had trying not to let my gaze fall below the waist of a guy who towered half a foot over me.
I hate outdoorsy types.
“When thou collect the carcass for disposal,” Sebastian said, visibly exalting in the feel of the October breeze on his nudity. “Thou will find a goodly portion unsullied. I give thee my leave to feast upon it, since I’ve given orders that thee are to receive no stored blood from the kitchens this night.”
I hadn’t fed yet and felt my hunger intensify at the prospect. “Well, thanks but I guess I’ll just have to go to bed hungry.” I’d be damned if I gave him a wedge like that to drive between me and Caroline.
He grabbed me by my lapels and yanked me up eye-to-eye. Now I was in close proximity to a naked, bloody monster with truly foul breath. This job was just getting better and better.
“While I must endure thine presence, thou be my Creation by law. I’ll not have a man of my line who feeds naught but by the teat! My Caroline may well have a delicate sensibility for feeding but even she can hunt prey when needs be. How will thou feed, should she abandon thee, when thou have not the stomach for even another’s kill?” I remember the earnestness beneath the mockery and I think he was honestly doing what he thought best for me.
At the time though, all I heard was my stepfather Jim. “When are you gonna grow up and stop playing those stupid imaginary games?” Other times it was, “Why don’t you quit sitting in your room and reading all the time? Why don’t you lose some weight, get yourself a girl, maybe try out for the football team? You’ll never get anywhere just sitting around on your fat ass.” Then there was the ever-popular: “I don’t like those freaks you hang out with- bunch of fucking Satan worshippers.” Basically, you could distill it all down to, “Why can’t you be a real man? Why can’t you be more like me?”
“I don’t want any part of your kill,” I spat back at him. “I already have the only thing of yours I need.”
That put the olive branch through the wood chipper. Sebastian threw me down, yanked the robe out of my hands and strode toward the house. “We shall see how long that particular arrangement holds!”
I stood up and mentally kicked myself. My behavior hardly constituted “doing what I could” much less “letting him believe that I was submitting to him.”
I managed to resist my temptation to feed on the cop’s body. Ironically though, I did scoop up an animal’s mess that night.
Funny how our lives seem to follow little patterns, isn’t it?
* * * * *
I had to sleep in a room up on the third floor with the house servants. The place reminded me of a college dorm and like most attic rooms, featured an angled back wall with just enough room for a bed, a dresser and a bedside table. It lacked a window, which was a plus. The books and DVDs I’d packed in Princeton were still in their boxes, shoved under the bed. Sebastian’s house had four open guest rooms at the time, not counting the suites
for the visiting Hegemons but I was still stuck with the maids and footmen.
Being so newly Created, my sleeping patterns were still erratic. Early on, I’d sometimes slept thirty-six hours at a stretch, while recently I’d been known to wake up in the middle of the day and not fall back to sleep.
That night, I woke a little before sunset, brushed my teeth and treated myself to a long, hot shower in the third floor men’s bathroom. I also had to shave again. Before my Creation, I could get by with a day or two between shaves but now my hair and nails grow much faster. When I got back to my room, I found a new, pressed suit waiting for me, delivered anonymously by one of the silent, scurrying maids.
The suit was amusing: chocolate brown with shiny gold buttons. The jacket was cut short in front and featured tails in the back. What really made it sweet was the matching vest and bow tie in Hunter Green. Give me some mutton-chop sideburns, or maybe a big ol’ Sherlock Holmes pipe and I’d really be stylin’. “Look! Waiting the tables! Mopping the floors! It’s Footman!”
I put on my costume and ran down to the kitchen to get a couple blood packs for me and Caroline. The kitchen is larger than the ones in some restaurants but the bustling activity made it feel tiny. The chef (whose name was Helmut) shouted orders to his assistants and inspected everything while his staff mixed and refrigerated and prepared in a frenzy. I grabbed Type A Negative for Caroline and O Positive for me from the nearest of the giant blood refrigerators and popped them in the microwave.
The packs by the way aren’t the usual hospital-style things. They look more like those cold packs that you throw in the freezer and then use in coolers. They hold a pint and keep fresh for weeks. They’re manufactured exclusively for The Order by some company in South America, both empty and pre-filled. Your drug money at work. I was trying to be considerate by nuking the packs, since you get better results by bringing them up to heat in a water bath but Helmut still gave me a dirty look for invading “his” kitchen.
“We’re gonna kick this blood up a notch, folks! Bam!” I said in a pretty good Emeril impression. He turned away in a huffy silence.
There are advantages just to being a Vampyr, regardless of your status.
* * * * *
I found my beloved surfing the Internet at her desk, as usual. The room was built as a study for Caroline out of Sebastian’s Dhampir quarters. As Caroline told it, she’d slowly moved more of her possessions into it as relations between her and Sebastian grew more strained. A door connects the two rooms but she kept it locked.
“Hey,” I said, closing the door and walking over to give her a kiss.
“Oh, great, thanks.” She continued typing, ignoring the pack for the time being. “I just got—”
“So caught up,” I finished along with her and she laughed. From what I could see, she was in a chat-room with somebody. I recognized the name as one of the anonymous “contacts” within The Order that she traded information and gossip with. I popped my pack and drank while she finished.
“I’m sorry,” Caroline said, swiveling around to face me. “But I’ve—oh, my goodness, what are you wearing??”
I preened in my Count Chocula Tux. “Pretty snazzy, huh? I hear Sebastian’s coming as Little Red Riding Hood.”
She smiled, shaking her head. “I’ve been trying to get any last bit of information but no one who knows anything is talking.”
I kneeled down and stroked her beneath the jaw. “I think we’re as prepared as we can be.”
“I know. I’ve prepared some general biographies for—”
“Wait,” I said, toying with her hair a little while my other hand slid up her pajama-clad leg. I’d noticed Sebastian was something of a late riser. “Let’s put all this out of our minds for little bit, while there’s still time.”
“I don’t know if we should … not while—”
That’s when I tickled her, striking quickly and without mercy. We’d managed some furtive, desperate sex on our second night of captivity but I was hungry for a genuine smile or a laugh.
I ignored her attempts to slap my hands away as she squealed laughter. After a few seconds, I let up to scoop her out of her chair and lay her down on the floor. Then I started in again, cooing things like, “Who’s making all that noise?” and “Look at that pretty pajama girl,” in baby-talk as she writhed and thrashed beneath me.
I have to admit that I love tickling girls. It rocks. It’s weird because it is a childish sort of thing but it’s incredibly sexual. My theory is that being tickled is the only time outside of orgasm that you’re completely at the mercy of your body—and girls can fake orgasms. I love the pure, uninhibited pleasure it allows you to see.
Being an experienced practitioner of the art, I stopped long before the pleasure could turn to real discomfort and started kissing her long, lovely neck.
She smacked my shoulder, still laughing and catching her breath. “You’re awful!”
I looked her in the eyes, smiled and nodded.
She laughed again and caressed my face. “I love the way you make me feel.”
“Ticklish?”
“Normal.”
I kissed her again, working toward the full urgency of sexual passion. Naturally, that’s just when Sebastian barged in.
Caroline sprang up, while I sat and glared at him. He seemed upset to see us together, yet satisfied at having interrupted our intimacy.
“I trust thou have made thine communications,” he said. I thought back to his vague threat from the night before and how relatively calm his reaction had been to my barb about Caroline. She was right about him planning something.
“Yes,” Caroline answered. “I’ve made the necessary contacts.”
“I’m so pleased.” As usual, he wore nothing beneath that red silk robe of his but carried some garment. He hung it from the top of the door, saying, “This was finally cleaned and made ready during the day, so I expect to see thee in it tonight.”
The dress was green but more of an emerald than my vest and tie and looked like something out of The Age of Innocence.
“I can’t say for sure,” I told him, “but I think that waist is gonna be tight on me.”
Sebastian glared and pointed a clawed finger at me. “Boy, I’ll not suffer any of that fool’s tongue of thine once the Hegemons arrive! And, as for thou…” he began, turning back to Caroline.
“I’ll wear the dress.”
Looking for any sign of resistance and finding none took the wind out of Sebastian’s sails. The anger blew from him in a sigh, leaving behind a bitter determination. “Aye, see that thou do. I’m off to hunt now but I expect ye both in proper station upon my return.”
As defeated as Caroline looked sitting there, I can’t imagine anybody who could have kept at her. Taking my cue from her, I told Sebastian, “I’ll be down in a minute.”
He paused in the doorway, his eyes gazing away. “Nay. Tonight it’s the swift, sure-footed old stag I’m set upon.” He walked down the hall.
“And the prize for the most cryptic comment goes to…” I said, closing the door.
“There’s a few acres of dense woods at the rear of the island,” Caroline said. “Sebastian had breeding pairs of deer and rabbits brought over shortly after the house was finished. Food and recreation for the staff, in case weather delayed the supply ships. Happier times.”
“What’s wrong? The dress isn’t that bad.” I tried to laugh but I knew it wasn’t gonna fly.
She lifted her head and I saw the tears in her eyes before she wiped them away. “It’s so much harder than I remembered…seeing him like this. You have no idea … Avery, he was such a good man: brave, idealistic, gentle. The things he wanted to accomplish, the dreams we had for the future…”
I held her for a few minutes until she broke away.
“Thanks,” she said and kissed me. Turning away, she grabbed a sheaf of papers off her desk. “Here, I prepared some brief biographies on each of the visiting Hegemons, along with a list of personality t
raits and important things to keep in mind. Read them while I get cleaned up and dressed, then you can ask me any specific questions you have.”
I sighed. “You know, sometimes I think you missed your true calling as a high school English teacher.”
She smiled and went into the bathroom to get ready. I took the pages over to her bed, propped myself against the headboard, put my feet up and began to read. She’d been writing and compiling this stuff all during her years with Sebastian with the intention of putting out a book on the history and social structure of The Order. To her deep disappointment, Sebastian went cold on the idea after deciding some of her conclusions might be offensive to the traditionalists.
So I lay on her bed, reading but my mind was still on our relationship and Sebastian’s increasing place in it.
* * * * *
I thought back to the conversation Caroline and I had about a week after I moved into her place in Princeton. Dawn was approaching and we waited for it, lying together in our bed. We had just finished making love and were basking in that afterglow cuddling.
I was her Dhampir at that time (still fat and still sure she wished I was thinner) and loved the comparative heat of her body and strength of her heartbeat.
“I love you,” I said.
She gave my ribs a quick hug and kissed a spot near my Adam’s apple before going back to her snuggling.
I waited, hoping she’d say it back and felt my heart sink a little when she didn’t. “Caroline … I don’t mean to be all needy but—”
“Please, let’s not spoil the moment.”
“I’m not trying to,” I said, wrapping my arms around her. “But I need to know. I need to know if you won’t say it because you’re afraid to or if it’s because the feelings aren’t there. I can deal with the answer either way but I just can’t stand the uncertainty.”