Tudor Rose [BoyxBoy]

Chapter 16 - Reconnaissance

Michael found Bastian outside alone on the roof of the palace watching the setting sun. Wind was blowing through his pale blond hair, making him look even more wild than did the blood stains on his face and shirt. He approached him slowly, not wanting him to fly away in anger or embarrassment, but he felt that Bastian's emotions were surprisingly calm. He stood next to him, resting his arms on the marble banister.

"Will I ever get used to it? The hunger I feel?" he asked.

"No one ever gets used to it," said Michael. "We learn to control ourselves, to feed with grace and composer, but once our fangs pierce human flesh, we are beasts again. It's the vampiric paradox—cursed to live above all other beings, as if we are so much more refined and intelligent, when we also happen to be savages."

"I don't want to feel this way forever," Bastian said, and Michael understood he was referring to the aching hunger that all vampires felt constantly. The true curse of vampirism was the feeling of never being full enough. The original sin of the vampire was voracious gluttony. They could consume blood endlessly and never feel satisfied, and some of them had. The image of his grandfather came to his mind.

"You won't get used to the feelings of hunger," Michael said. "But you will learn to suppress it, to replace it... There are other appetites to fill." Bastian looked to him and smiled.

"Have you ever spent the night with a woman?" he asked.

"No," Michael said truthfully. "Has someone caught your eye?"

Bastian turned and looked again at the sun that was just disappearing over the horizon. "No..." he said, though Michael could tell he was lying. "I've got to change my shirt and get to class." He patted Michael on the shoulder, a move Michael knew he felt was brazen, but he wanted to express gratitude for the concern he had been shown. Michael grinned, thinking of the question Bastian had asked him. There was a time when it would have disheartened him to hear Bastian ask him such a question, but now his heart was full of only Henri.

"My lord," came the adolescent voice of Cedric, Michael's progeny. He turned to face him. The spy had appeared kneeling behind him with vampiric speed, and Michael was proud of his agent for being able to approach him without being detected.

"What is it, Cedric?" Michael asked, leaning against the banister and pushing back the hair blowing in his eyes.

"His majesty has finally moved from the hotel. He went out alone and I was too afraid to follow him. My apologies, master."

"No," said Michael. "You were right not to follow him. He would have certainly found you and probably killed the both of us."

Cedric looked up at him and then back down at his feet quickly, and Michael knew what he wanted. He unsheathed his fangs and pricked the palm of his hand and Cedric came greedily to him to suck his blood. As Cedric fed from him, he thought about his grandfather's movements. Where could he be going alone? Michael was sure the answer had something to do with Lucy Westenra. His grandfather did not make vampires of every woman he fed from. He had to investigate her.

"Cedric, I want you to have a carriage sent here to be ready for me at noon. Do you understand?" Cedric nodded while lapping at his hand like a dog. He pushed the child away and his hand healed immediately.

"Is there anything else you'd like me to do?" he asked.

"Not yet, Cedric, but I want to meet you in the forest from now on. Be there waiting for me to return tomorrow night. You can go now," he said, smiling as the youthful vampire sped away. Cedric may have been a gutter orphan when Michael made him but he was no fool. Michael cherished him dearly, though he had no intention of letting him know that.

Michael would have gone into town on foot, but considering what happened the last time he had left Henri alone at the academy, he had decided he would bring Henri with him everywhere. Tudor Rose was not safe for Henri, and Michael wanted to keep him close at all times.

The hours flew by as Michael sat through his first four classes in a dreamlike state. He imagined himself at the head of House Dracula, bringing his family out of the dark ages and into the light. Monarchies were being challenged all over Europe, and Michael saw no reason to maintain them within the vampire world as well. Purebloods, he thought, had an inflated sense of their own importance in the world. Vampires were nothing more than predators on the high end of the spectrum. The fittest, as Charles Darwin would have called them if had only known of their existence. However, that did not make them fit to lead the world, or any of them fit to lead the rest of them, or at least in the way his grandfather had been doing it for the last five hundred years.

He thought of this until he was sitting next to Henri in Hunting, and then his golden hair and pale green eyes were all that he could think of. Henri blushed and looked away when he caught Michael staring, but Michael could not help but look upon the marvelous boy. There was a hollow in his neck that made Michael want to—

"Do you hear me, Vitèz?" asked Professor Borgia, staring at him from his podium. The entire class now had their eyes on him, which annoyed him greatly. He thought of the various sequences of tearing the arrogant Spaniard limb from limb from which he could choose.

"No," said Michael with clear boredom in his voice. "I missed what you said."

Professor Borgia scared at him incredulously for a moment, but knew it was not his place to embarrass a Dracula any further, especially with the king of vampires there in London. "I was explaining the new set of rules for the game."