Victoria is given by her father, the King of the Barren Lands, to the Vampire Duke Sadisman as a hostage. She is a gift from her people as a peace offering. As part of the bargain, Duke has promised, "She will not be sired, she will not be fed upo...
With an air of uncanny grace, the Duke stood and left his lunch perched upon the chair where he had momentarily perched. We cast our eyes toward the figure slumped in the chair, her form draped in an elegantly brooding repose. Selam, now pale as moonlight, remained tethered to the realm of the living by the faintest threads of life's pulse, an ethereal whisper of existence. We carefully transported her, as though bearing a fragile relic, to my bed where she lay ensconced in a cocoon of sumptuous satin.
A seething tempest of emotions roiled within me, and my heart churned with a bitter rage directed at Duke Sadismann. The brief encounter had rekindled my distaste for the dark creatures with whom I was irrevocably entwined, the nightcrawlers who held me hostage within their intricate web of shadows.
"I can see why his sex cult needs venom, but you, I don't get," I said, looking into her belladonna eyes.
"You would if you tried it," Mary said with a sleepy smile. "They like to reward us with it. I've been told it enhances the flavor of our blood, akin to salt on food, making us more enticing. They brew it in the basement. They say it is a really slow poison, every time you take it you bring the time of your distant death a day or so closer. The city people say it can blind mortals or caus fatal swellings. The vampires don't care because they can't be hurt."
I turned to her and asked, "If it's so harmful, why do people take it?"
"Some don't care," Mary replied, her voice slightly unsteady as she swayed. She then smiled at me and said, "You have lovely hair, you know? Has anyone ever told you that? It's as blonde as the tears of the sun. I once had a dear friend with hair like yours."
"The vampires seem to treat you like a brutal husband. It is beyond me how you stand it?" I said.
"Yep. You know what?" Mary told me slightly sleepy and less guarding her words " The last time I looked, they took over when our kind lost the blood war. They rule things now. To them, we are meat, meat to drink, meat to eat, meat to have sex with. They won, we lost, and no, I don't think the Defiance is going to change things anytime soon. Not in my lifetime. They are the masters, we are the slaves. I can't change the world, so I make the best of what I have been dealt. Which means we do what we are told, and they can do what they like, and they generally do,"
"That's a defeatist's mantra," I said. "I can't believe the vampires took over, and everyone suddenly became their passive sheep."
"It's a realist's mantra." Mary said, not looking at me but unable to move her smile. She stumbled about the room slightly and sat down.
"Wonderful, the world is taken over by blood-sucking leaches, and everyone applauds," I said.
I left Mary, who was too drunk to do much, and I cleaned the blood from the puncture marks on the sleeping familiar Salem myself. I both hated the maiden for giving herself up to an immortal like that, but I pitied her as well. Salem and I looked so alike I could feel I might end up in the same condition.
"Poor thing," I said, looking down on the drained body of Selam.
"Don't feel sorry for her," Mary giggled from another chair "She's an ambitious bitch, that one. Selam wants to get herself sired while she's still perfect. Did I just say that out loud?"
"You did," I said.
"They tell the acolytes when they are initiated. Very few people get turned who haven't been personal stock first, so she's well on the way. Lucky her."
I could feel the sulfurous resentment in Mary's voice.
"Sounds like an induction from hell. " I said sitting back "I didn't think career progression meant giving your body and soul to them,"
"You're family clearly never worked in a factory before the fall," said Mary smiling.
"So you're saying of all the familiars, you don't want to be one of them?" I said.
"It's an honor to be chosen, but the mark of a true familiar is their unwavering loyalty to the coven. We exist to serve the coven, and siring reflects service and our future value to it," Mary added loyally running out of the standard mantra for the benefit of hidden ears and eyes.
Eventually, Salem came to and said little, then smiled. Seeing a fly, she caught it in both hands and ate it like a raisin. Then, groggily but happily, she made her way back to her dormitory in the Lord's personal stock of the high harem.
Mary was not pleased. "The fly, you know they think that impresses them, but they are wrong," she said after Salem left, then fell asleep in the chair.
I let her sleep and looked out of my window, until Cub came with news. The High Priestess of the coven was rumored to be coming to see me after the next sunset.
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