The Lady of the Valley

TLotV Chapter 4

4.

Living on a long enough timeline gave one the ability to reinvent themselves as often as they liked. But Derek almost always found himself stuck in the same role. When they'd been turned--which was a complicated story all its own--his brother had embraced the role of maudlin victim and he had embraced the role of untamed monster. Derek had killed their maker for her abuse of them. He had traveled the world, fighting, fucking, and feeding.

When Samuel called him back after ten years, it was Derek who had held the solution to their younger sister's deadly illness. Vampires don't get diseases. Samuel himself had called Derek a monster.

Yet it was Samuel who needed a monster to protect him when an oracle's vision led to him becoming the vampire king of Chicago. Derek had liked the Windy City since the Twenties, but within a year of setting foot inside Samuel had found some magic necklace that made him a vampire Arthurian king, the adoration and blind devotion of the younger sister he'd wanted to leave for dead, and a resentful brother who, while he wasn't pleased with the situation, wasn't going to let him be picked off by vampiric competition. When it came to magic relics which determined rulers, possession determined ownership apparently.

How many of his own kind had Derek tortured and slaughtered to solidify Samuel's rule? How many commands had he accepted? Until he was just tired. Tired of being the monster. Tired of being under the rule of chosen ones and people who used love like a weapon and familial connections like chains. Tired of being the public face of the bigger monsters hiding in the shadows.

He'd come here to change that. But damned if he hadn't just been carrying it around his neck like that godawful magic pendant his brother wore. Derek knew two modes of vampire existence, the guilty martyr or the callous monster. And he was so damn tired of both.

The Barn was a decent sized building next to the SAC. He'd thought it was maybe landscaping or groundskeeper offices and supply storage at first. But inside it was more or less a bar, kitchen, dance floor, and stage. People crammed into it, and spilled out into the patio between it and the SAC, music coiling through the night around them.

It was a sensory tapestry, food and humans, lights and music. Derek felt thankful that he'd thought to feed before entering this press of flesh.

A curly headed blonde nearly tripped over him just past the door, catching herself on his arm and giggling. Drunk already? He helped her up and she apologized.

"Sorry. I'm Ari. Can I buy you a drink to say thanks for catching me?" She grinned, batted toasted honey colored eyelashes and he couldn't help but to agree. The two men she'd been chatting with looked disappointed, but let her drift toward the bar with him in tow.

Ari leaned over the bar and waved. Astrid turned around from a prep table covered in a rainbow of plastic cups a few feet away. She looked significantly different from her normal self outside of jeans and a t-shirt. It was hard for him not to stare, mouth askew, eyes lingering on her generous endowments and all that pale, lightly freckled, exposed skin. And somehow her smell still wafted over even Ari's who stood right next to him. Derek made himself look away.

"Astrid, love, get this fine gentlemen a drink on my tab please. Whatever he wants. And I'll take another."

Ari sat on the only empty stool, swinging her feet and grinning at Derek. There was a momentary resemblance to Ellie, but Ellie used her joyful youth like a costume, and Ari seemed to be the spokesmodel. He suspected, however, that Ari probably had a similar ability to find trouble as his sister.

"Are you new?" Ari asked.

Was it that obvious? "I am," Derek answered.

"Then you caught the right girl. I know almost everyone here."