An idea came to Starr's mind.
She focused on the blood, imagining it spraying his lovely silk shirt.
A moment later, his shirt looked like a forensic blood splatter.
Flustered, and almost crying like a girl, he excused himself.
As he left the table, all eyes turned to Starr.
"Well, now's your chance," said Keagan.
The restrooms were at the back of a short hall. Leaning against the wall, she waited while trying to focus her mind on a blank slate - a way of cloaking her presence, though she was usually very poor at it.
Fernand opened the door and froze.
"Dammit, Starr! Don't you get it? I don't want to talk to you. Now, you've ruined my shirt!"
He tried to retreat back into the restroom.
"Fernand, stop!"
Starr pushed the door back. Wildly, it swung back, making a loud bang against the wall.
"Starr, this is a man's bathroom."
"If you'd stop trying to avoid me, I wouldn't be here."
"You need to leave, now!"
"Your brother is in trouble. I'm in trouble too. He's been sending me visions all summer."
"I'm not going to interfere. He made his bed, and I?" he trailed off. "I haven't been welcome home in a long time."
"What? But I thought you were the good son?"
He didn't respond, but the look in his eyes told Starr that something happened in their family. For whatever reason, he wasn't willing to look past it.
"I already did him a favor when I gave him the instructions to make the antidote to vampirism, and it almost cost me my life."
"You mean the antidote he gave to Lily, who was bitten by these modern zombified-vampires. Does it work on us, too?"
"No!" he said. "Now, excuse me!"
She followed him out of the bathroom. At the entrance of the hall, Keagan stood.
Starr tried to walk past, but his arms flew out, fast, grabbing her by the elbows and turning her to face him.
"Stop it," he said calmly, looking straight into her eyes.
"Keagan, you don't know what you're talking about. Now, let me go."
"I won't," he said. "He won't help you, and you can't force him. But I will help you."
She stopped struggling, and asked, "How?"
"Fly with me to my house, tonight," he said as he relinquished his grip. "My family would love to meet you."
Fernand avoided Starr for the rest of the day.
Later that afternoon, they returned to Fernand's house for a game of croquet and a barbeque. In between hits, Michael helped Starr practice telekinesis by showing her how to call birds from the sky.
Just like telepathy, certain forms of kinesis seemed to elude her. While she could accomplish small feats, like at the restaurant with Fernand, she was nowhere near as strong as most other vampires. Sometimes, it made her wonder if she were less intelligent than other vampires.
"It's not because you're less intelligent. Really, Starr, you always got good grades at school. You just have to remember that we're not all the same. We don't have the same strengths or powers; it's the same way with humans. Some people are mental beings; others are physical. You might just be more passionate about the physical, but you've still got mental savoir faire."
Michael put the pigeons in a bowl and took them to Nina.
She sat down next to Bulgari, at the lawn table under the awning.
"So you're going to the Scamall property?" he asked.
"Yeah, why?"
"Well, I should warn you: If you don't like our order's rites, you certainly won't like theirs. However, I advise you to keep your cool. Do not offend him or his family. They won't hesitate to eat you."
"Haha," Starr laughed lightly.
"You think I'm joking?" he asked as he put the orange butt to his mouth and dragged.
The Clouds
Chapter 3
At 11:30 p.m., they stood on the moist lawn. Keagan extended his hand. She grabbed on and he guided her into the foggy ocean-moist air.
He flew much faster than she could - an indication of his strength and age. The Scamalls lived three hours outside of Boston. With him, they made it to the property in fifteen minutes.
When they landed at the front double oak carved doors, he said, "Welcome to my home."
The enormous doors opened, automatically.
"We always have a welcome feast for first time visitors. Tonight will be a smaller party, though, because we didn't have much time to prepare, seeing as your invitation was last minute."
She tried to pretend to be thankful, but was really annoyed. One thing the old vampires liked to do a lot of was eating.
"In my day, feasting was a grand occasion," he explained, reading her mind a usual. "It was a sign of status, and status was important. The finer you dined, the more rich you were, and the more respected you were. We're lucky because we can never get full or fat."
Starr followed him through the enormous entrance hall, past several drawing and ball rooms.
Finally, they walked through an enormous glass door that, also, opened automatically.
Over an enormous pyre to their left, a 2,000 pound bull had been strung up. She growled at the sight of Scamall's man, who used an enormous machete to slice into its chest.
Keagan reached for her hand, and led her closer to the pyre. Amidst the bull's cries, the man continued to rip through its rib cage, and produced a large beating heart.
Starr felt her inner demon come out. Her fangs extended, and her night vision became clearer.
The man set the heart on a large wooden console that stood next to him. He sliced off several delicate slices of it, and placed them in a circular pattern onto a plate. Then, using a small silver spoon, he put black roe onto each slice, and then turned and handed the plate to Keagan with a light bow.
Keagan led Starr to the same grotto she remembered from before. It was a little cove with strung up white lights, except, this time, the table was dressed with a white silk cloth.
For a while, she enjoyed herself, and the light conversation they had, as they waited for the rest of his family to join them; that is until a pungent scent filled the air, alerting every pore in her body.
She turned her head and inhaled, deeply.
The aroma cleared her head of all the worries she'd had, the last few days. All she needed was to find the source of the scent.
Without real conscious thought, she stood from the table and walked off.
"Starr."
Keagan called after her, but she barely heard him.
A strange woman appeared before her. Starr stepped around her and went back inside the house.
The woman appeared before her, again, but this time she smacked her in the face.
Starr jumped.
The woman had fierce orange hair.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine, I think," she said, looking around, feeling completely baffled.
She was standing in a very large kitchen.
Her eyes settled on a wooden cutting board where a partially sliced human arm lay. It had a long slit along the bottom that ran all the way down to the middle of the palm of the hand, where the bone had been taken out.
"Come on," said the woman, turning her around, roughly. "You must wait for dinner."
"I-I'm sorry," she stuttered. "I don't know what happened."
"It's alright," said Keagan, as she sat back down in the grotto. "You've never fed on human before. The first time can be a reveling experience."
"I thought human feeding was disgusting?"
"Ahh?.You've been talking to Lyssa, I see."
"I don't know any Lyssa."
"Some people like to change their names to reflect the times. I, however, do not. My name is Aine, by the way."
Although their conversation continued, pleasantly, Starr continued to think about the arm in the kitchen. Never, in her time as a vampire, had she been so tur
ned on by a smell. Sure, she's around humans all the time, but seeing flesh deboned, smelling the inside of its flesh, was different.
"Starr," said Aine. "It's very rude to not pay attention to your hosts."
"Sorry," she said, shaking her head as if trying to ward off an unwanted nap.
A moment later, a man with strange wine colored eyes arrived - a birth defect, Starr assumed. She saw him the last time she was there.
"And this is Ciaran," said Keagan.
He bowed.
"You've had quite a year," He said enthusiastically. "We're always hearing things about you."
"Like what, and from whom?"
"Oh, from people, here and there. You're very popular in the vampire world."
"People keep saying that, and I don't understand why. I'm just a normal girl."
"You're popular because you always seem to be near the center of much danger and controversy," said Aine.
"Yes, everyone is curious to know about the young vampire-orphan who beat Levi, saved the Fleet from zombified-vamps, and who lives with humans," added Keagan.
"I, particularly, found Lucenzo's interest in you to be disturbing. I knew he was bad news from the beginning," said Ciaran.
"Please clarify your statement," Starr asked and demanded at the same time.
"Wow, Starr. They say you're a ball buster, too. At the moment, I'm thinking they're right."
Starr stared at Ciaran, waiting for answer.
Finally, he asked, "Did you never wonder why he moved into the clinic with you?"
"I assumed he was spying. He knew that I was in league with the Fleet, and trying to destroy his vampires."
"That was partially to his advantage, yes, but I've heard there was more to it."
"Please, don't stop," she said, feeling annoyed. Getting answers from people was starting to be her least favorite thing to do. "Continue," she said, trying to sound polite.
"I heard he was keeping an eye on you, for Lyssa," he said.
He poured some blood onto a saucer and ran a piece of bread across it.
"Who is Lyssa?" she asked more aggressively.
"Lyssa Callestonia Impresta Krystopio."
The name sounded familiar.
"She was the former Dacian Queen Romanian empress-warrior, and is, now, head of the vampire Council."
"Credenza was the Dacian queen?" she asked, remembering back to her time when Madam Balaji told her the story of the first vampire infection.
"Only, she wasn't the first," said Keagan. "I'm not sure why Madam told you that. It's just a story, but completely baseless."
"Why did she change her name?"
"To fit in with modern times," he said. "Names change, just like fashion."
But there was something else that bothered her about the name 'Lyssa.' She had the feeling she should have known why, but was more concerned with continuing her conversation with Ciaran. One thing she'd learned is when people are ready to talk, it's best to keep their lips flapping, lest they should lose the urge.
"So, what? Really, she probably didn't know he was behind the whole end-of-the-world thing," Starr countered.
Ciaran sipped his wine, and then said, "Lucenzo told me, himself. Now, I tell you, do not trust Lyssa, no matter what. Some believe she was in on this vampire apocalypse idea the whole time. She just didn't want to reveal herself as the source until the job was complete; she didn't want the leaders of the world turning on her before she was ready to fight them. Why do you think clans, like us, have turned against her? She is a manipulative blood sucker. We've tried to get rid of her, time and time again, but she is too strong."
"I'll be glad when that witch is dead," said Aine.
Starr was stunned into silence for quite a few minutes. While she felt for the Scamall's and the Negru, she still didn't know that they were any better than Credenza. There were many that would consider them barbaric.
"We are not barbarians," said Aine angrily, her cheeks hot-red. "We're merely old; from another age. We have the right to keep our traditions."
She was relieved when the servants began to bring the dinner trays around and serve them. She didn't want to upset them, and thought the distraction of dinner's arrival a smooth way to move the conversation along.
When the servant brought about a silver platter, Starr broke into a blood sweat.
Her fork fell to the table. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the flesh: the way the slices gradually became smaller, and then wider yet flatter, and then progressed into five rows of little bits.
Starr drank human blood, before, and had even eaten human brains, once while vamped out, but she'd never consumed their flesh.
Between her and the girls at the clinic, was a pact that they'd leave people alone, but, of them all, Starr was the most 'animal' of them all. More than anything, she wanted to put as many pieces of the flesh into her mouth, as she possibly could.
Its pinkish-brownish flesh drew her eyes. With a scent as fragrant as morning dew, the aroma touched her glands, making her nose flare in an effort to swallow the air.
She swallowed, deeply.
Ciaran pushed the tray close to her plate.
"Well, what's it gonna be?" he asked.
She wanted to try it so badly, but, at the same time, a part of her resisted. She'd made a promise, was she going to break it, now?
"No, thanks," she said.
"Don't feel guilty, Starr. It's normal for us to eat human," Keagan said passionately. "Don't pay attention to Lyssa's hypocritical spew. She's one of the biggest hunters of all. When she was first turned, she was reported to have consumed a human, blood and body, every night for centuries."
Ciaran picked up the large silver fork and stuck it in a piece of flesh, then, using the large knife, he lifted a slice of arm, and set it on her plate.
It didn't escape her notice that the flesh was so close to her bread that it lightly touched its crust.
Slowly, she lifter her hand to touch the meat. She relished the soft and gummy feel, sort of like pork. The texture was smooth, and it felt cool between her fingers.
It took all of her will to pull back her hand.
The rest of the dinner, they asked her questions about her life as a human, and rumors they'd heard of her as a vampire.
Starr obliged them with stories, all the while catching glances of the slice of arm on her plate. When it came time to eat her bread, she purposely rubbed it across the flesh, and then fantasized that she tasted human.
Aside from the meat, she noticed the Scamalls didn't like to talk much about their selves, which made her even more curious to learn of their dark past.
When they finished their food, her eyes were nearly glued to the waiter as he took her plate away.
Our Father
Chapter 4
The next morning, Keagan sent his assistant to tell her to take coffee and breakfast, and then to come visit him in his office at ten '0' clock.
She took her coffee in the grotto, where she practiced calling pigeons to her.
When ten 'o'clock arrived, she made her way through the large halls of the palace sized manor.
She saw Keagan through an enormous archway, at the end of a hall on the east wing.
His office was larger than the kitchen. Behind him, an enormous book case nearly reached the high ceiling, which had a large skylight.
To their left, ample sunlight shone through enormous double doors that opened to the back, where they had dinner the previous night.
She sat in the chocolate leather chair that faced him at his desk.
He looked up and smiled, "I hope you had a good rest."
"I did; thank you."
"That's good because I don't think you'll be welcomed back at Fernand's house for quite some time, but consider me an ally. If you ever need anything, come see me - without the Council, that is."
He stood up and walked to the double doors. Gently laying his hand on the gold handle, he said, "Now onto business. You want to kno
w how to reach Valhol."
He opened the door, and beckoned her with his hand.
They went past the grotto where they had dinner, and into the back property.
For many miles out, until a mountainous ridge, there were only grassy fields.
"I thought we were going to look at some old books or maps," she said as she stepped over a large rock in her path.
"You're not going to find Valhol on some map."
After fifteen minutes of walking, Starr saw a smooth dark surface in the grass. It was a large green hinge-less metal door that was bolted down into a thick cement slab.
Keagan unscrewed each of the baseball sized bolts with his hands. He lifted the door by the double handles and set it in the grass.
They walked down the steps into the dark underground.
When Keagan stepped off the last step, soft yellow sensor lights came on, illuminating a plain cement oblong room with doors all the way down both sides.
Keagan went left.
Starr became uneasy when she realized that behind the doors wasn't emptiness. From the other side, she could hear their hearts beating, and their lungs breathing. They were cattle.
Starr's thoughts immediately flashed an image of the deboned arm.
Trying to stay calm, and not vamp out like she did at dinner, she focused on a blank slate, as she did when trying to block out mental intrusion.
But a feeling distracted her from the slate, and the people in the rooms: an energy. A large source of it; life so big and strong that it frightened her. Whatever it was could obliterate her very essence, soul and all.
At the end of the walkway was another set of steps. More sensor lights lit as they descended.
It was extremely cool and moist on the lower floor. The room was just as plain as above, but without the many doors.
She followed Keagan directly across the room, and stood in front of the cement wall. Immediately, she knew it was not just a wall, for she sensed the large energy on the other side.
Keagan stared at the wall a moment.
Then suddenly, it moved into the crevice to their right, revealing another cement room.
There wasn't a sign of human touch, except for what lay on the floor in the center of the room.
In an ankle length, yellowing linen smock was the largest man she'd ever seen. He had to have been about twelve feet tall, for his head and feet nearly touched the walls.
When she got over the length of the body, she was able to take in the rest of the details. He was half as wide as he was tall, with waist length white-blond hair that looked strong enough to repel on. His fingers were entwined, and they rested on his chest.