dying
part, in fact. Sure, there was some getting used to it. At first,
he hadn't been used to the way people would react to him, to how
different the world had felt to his senses. But he had gotten used
to it all pretty fast. The one thing that still bugged him was the
sameness of everyday life. Darcy said Chris would get used to it as
the years went on. After 100+ years, he was still struggling.
Still, he had lived long enough to know that the pros outweighed
the cons by about a thousand to one.
That fine December evening he'd been sharing
a meal with his vampire family. Darcy, his father for all intents
and purposes, had sipped from his teacup with elegance he had
probably already had in his mortal days. Elliot, Chris's brother
from another mother, had tried very hard not to smash the delicate
china set the hotel had offered them. Lydia and Louisa, Chris's
sisters, had sniggered while watching Elliot suffer. Louisa had
been sired when her family had lost everything during the Civil War
and Lydia had been raised in luxury. They had no problem with the
dainty cups in their hands.
But for the past twenty minutes, they had
been watching Elliot fight with Lydia. Again.
Chris sighed. He knew exactly what would
happen next. Some of the setting was different but the scene before
him wasn't.
"We cannot be seen together," Lydia said. "It
would defeat the purpose of the alliances Darcy negotiated."
"You can't seriously think we're fooling
either Gaius or Monicelli," Elliot said. He huffed in frustration.
"Everybody knows the truth!"
"What do you think people know, Elliot?"
Lydia snapped.
Their voices mingled together again.
Chris and his older sister, Louisa, watched
the argument with as much excitement as watching paint dry.
Darcy raised a hand, silencing both his
children.
"The war is coming. There's nothing to be
done," Darcy said. His deep voice still had a trace of English
accent - even after centuries living in the New World. "We can only
try to do damage control. We must soldier on."
Chris abandoned his cup on the table and
played with his nails, repressing a sigh. He wanted to go out and
hunt. He'd love to go to a nightclub and get himself someone young
and stupid, bring her back to his room, and drink her blood while
he fucked her. He loved getting lost in the pounding sound of the
music. He loved to feel hundreds of heartbeats sink together. He
craved the abandonment of sex, of feeling someone else's heartbeat
in his mouth and fingertips.
Chris rarely killed his prey. He was a master
at Byronism - the vampire's version of catch and release. There had
been accidents in the past, but Chris had kept an excellent track
record for the past 70 years.
Lydia raised her voice, attracting his
attention.
She said "It's not just our shifting
political alliances, Elliot. There's a very real possibility the
Order will strike."
Elliot snorted at that. "The Order?" He gave
Chris a can you believe this? look. "The Order has been as
good as dead for the past 40 years or so."
Lydia turned to Darcy. She had a look of smug
defiance on her face.
Darcy sighed, annoyed. "The witches'
Intelligence Office has said they picked up some noise in one of
the online forums the Order has."
That only fueled Elliot even more.
"See?" he asked. "This is why we shouldn't
even be here." He dropped his teacup and saucer with a loud clank on the table. "We fight amongst ourselves and these
freaks get ideas."
Chris sniffed the cup like it was going to
bite him. He tuned Elliot out. Elliot was fighting a losing battle.
Darcy was right. The war was happening. There was nothing they
could do to stop it.
Every once in a while a vampire was crazy
enough to stake claim at a certain territory and challenge the
leader of the local Great Clan for his land. Sometimes, the
newcomer won. Sometimes he or she lost. It was always messy.
Vampires are not exactly subtle when they're fighting. This time,
though, the whole thing had taken absurd proportions. The
part, in fact. Sure, there was some getting used to it. At first,
he hadn't been used to the way people would react to him, to how
different the world had felt to his senses. But he had gotten used
to it all pretty fast. The one thing that still bugged him was the
sameness of everyday life. Darcy said Chris would get used to it as
the years went on. After 100+ years, he was still struggling.
Still, he had lived long enough to know that the pros outweighed
the cons by about a thousand to one.
That fine December evening he'd been sharing
a meal with his vampire family. Darcy, his father for all intents
and purposes, had sipped from his teacup with elegance he had
probably already had in his mortal days. Elliot, Chris's brother
from another mother, had tried very hard not to smash the delicate
china set the hotel had offered them. Lydia and Louisa, Chris's
sisters, had sniggered while watching Elliot suffer. Louisa had
been sired when her family had lost everything during the Civil War
and Lydia had been raised in luxury. They had no problem with the
dainty cups in their hands.
But for the past twenty minutes, they had
been watching Elliot fight with Lydia. Again.
Chris sighed. He knew exactly what would
happen next. Some of the setting was different but the scene before
him wasn't.
"We cannot be seen together," Lydia said. "It
would defeat the purpose of the alliances Darcy negotiated."
"You can't seriously think we're fooling
either Gaius or Monicelli," Elliot said. He huffed in frustration.
"Everybody knows the truth!"
"What do you think people know, Elliot?"
Lydia snapped.
Their voices mingled together again.
Chris and his older sister, Louisa, watched
the argument with as much excitement as watching paint dry.
Darcy raised a hand, silencing both his
children.
"The war is coming. There's nothing to be
done," Darcy said. His deep voice still had a trace of English
accent - even after centuries living in the New World. "We can only
try to do damage control. We must soldier on."
Chris abandoned his cup on the table and
played with his nails, repressing a sigh. He wanted to go out and
hunt. He'd love to go to a nightclub and get himself someone young
and stupid, bring her back to his room, and drink her blood while
he fucked her. He loved getting lost in the pounding sound of the
music. He loved to feel hundreds of heartbeats sink together. He
craved the abandonment of sex, of feeling someone else's heartbeat
in his mouth and fingertips.
Chris rarely killed his prey. He was a master
at Byronism - the vampire's version of catch and release. There had
been accidents in the past, but Chris had kept an excellent track
record for the past 70 years.
Lydia raised her voice, attracting his
attention.
She said "It's not just our shifting
political alliances, Elliot. There's a very real possibility the
Order will strike."
Elliot snorted at that. "The Order?" He gave
Chris a can you believe this? look. "The Order has been as
good as dead for the past 40 years or so."
Lydia turned to Darcy. She had a look of smug
defiance on her face.
Darcy sighed, annoyed. "The witches'
Intelligence Office has said they picked up some noise in one of
the online forums the Order has."
That only fueled Elliot even more.
"See?" he asked. "This is why we shouldn't
even be here." He dropped his teacup and saucer with a loud clank on the table. "We fight amongst ourselves and these
freaks get ideas."
Chris sniffed the cup like it was going to
bite him. He tuned Elliot out. Elliot was fighting a losing battle.
Darcy was right. The war was happening. There was nothing they
could do to stop it.
Every once in a while a vampire was crazy
enough to stake claim at a certain territory and challenge the
leader of the local Great Clan for his land. Sometimes, the
newcomer won. Sometimes he or she lost. It was always messy.
Vampires are not exactly subtle when they're fighting. This time,
though, the whole thing had taken absurd proportions. The
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