THE RETURN
All eyes turned to Xavier. He slid off his horse and stepped toward the man, ignoring Elisa’s rushed warnings. “You have some news that is of interest to me?”
A smile formed on Aciel’s thin lips. “My, my,” he began, looking him up and down, “you are just as the rumors say. Terrifying, hm?”
“Watch it!” Elisa snarled.
Xavier raised a hand to calm her. “It’s quite all right, captain. He’s simply a...Vampire like us.” Although he said this, his tongue lingered on the word. He was unsure himself of what it was that stood before him. “Is this all you wished to say to me, Aciel?”
The dark-haired man stepped closer to Xavier, and the rustling of leaves suggested even more men were walking through the trees, surrounding them. Aciel lifted a finger and poked his chest, his voice a whisper. “We have come to relay news regarding a certain Vampire. An Eleanor Black. You are aware of her, are you not?”
His mind drifted from thoughts of the human woman, from raging thoughts of Damion’s words, and to the one thing that had bothered him most. “Eleanor?” He didn’t understand what this strange man was getting at. Eleanor was dead, so what was this?
The thin smile widened. “Ah. So you are aware of the missus then. Well, she wishes to...speak with you, and only you.” His dark eyes darted from Vampire to Vampire through the trees. “No one else.”
Xavier stepped back and looked around.
More men emerged from the trees, their eyes watching the Vampires atop their horses closely, ignoring the uniformed soldiers.
“And if I refuse to go with you?” he asked, turning to watch the man once more, knowing full well that he could be lying, and greatly so.
He lifted his arms and snapped his fingers. Two Lycans appeared behind him, their rows and rows of long teeth dripping with saliva.
He tensed, as did the other Vampires, but no one made a sound. The longer they stared at the two Lycans, the more they realized neither would hurt them: Both remained quite passive, merely prodding the dirt ground with massive paws.
“How are they able to transform? There is no moon,” Xavier said, a growl escaping his throat.
Aciel turned to the beasts and called them forward with a wave of his long-fingered hands. Xavier thought they cut through the air with a fluidity he could not catch: one moment they were being waved, the next the Lycans stepped forward, lifting off their front paws, bent double, their large heads brushing the branches and leaves of the trees that surrounded them. But still, they remained passive. Neither moved as Aciel turned from them and eyed Xavier once more. “Everything will be explained with time,” he said, “now if you will please...” He gestured for Xavier to walk with him back the way it appeared he had come.
His mind racing, he gave one involuntary glance toward Damion, who was staring at the Lycans with terse control. He said to Elisa, “Miss Stewart, watch over the others please.”
“My Lord, you won’t actually go anywhere with him, will you?” she whispered before looking around. “And his men.”
But he was already walking alongside one of the Lycans, Aciel stepping in the middle of the two beasts.
Elisa’s cries continued to haunt his retreating back, but he did not turn. His mind reeled with the blinding hope of seeing Eleanor again. Was she truly still alive?
They walked straight for what seemed hours. He said, “How much farther?” growing all the more curious as to why in the world he agreed to come with this mysterious man.
Aciel said nothing, but continued walking, the Lycans grunting indifferently. They turned to the left, Xavier following close behind.
Eventually, they came to a wall, jagged and brown, and Xavier swore he heard the sound of rushing water nearby, although he did not remember ever hearing a stream or river when he’d ventured to the Vampire City those many times before. Thinking that he’d been led far away from the others, he tensed as Aciel extended a hand to the wall, pressing his palm against it.
He watched as the wall tore a hole in itself, and before long, the spot where Aciel’s palm had touched was now a dark tunnel in which nothing but resolute darkness seemed to linger.
“After you, my Lord,” he said.
He spared him a look, hesitating before stepping into the entrance of the tunnel, barely able to see the large bodies of the Lycans as they pressed on in front of him. He turned his head back to Aciel, who was now examining the dirt underneath his fingernails.
A sigh escaped the man’s throat. “You are going, aren’t you? Eleanor is waiting, Vampire.”
“This isn’t some trick? She’s really there?” Xavier asked, his hopes somehow waning. How was it possible that she was alive?
A frustrated sound left him and he pushed the Vampire out of the way. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll go on ahead,” and he stepped through the entrance, his tattered robes dissolving into darkness as well.
Xavier pulled himself through the tunnel with a quick swear underneath his breath. He stumbled over rocks, not being able to see his hand in front of him, let alone the man that walked ahead of him. He could, however, hear the man’s footsteps, and reminded himself that each step he took was supposedly bringing him closer to Eleanor.
At last, a faint light up ahead caught his eye, and he could make out the silhouette of Aciel. He neared the light, the tunnel opening up into a small cave. The two Lycans rested up against the damp, gray walls, a small fire burning brightly in the center.
Aciel stepped behind the fire. He spread his arms wide, as if showing him something of grand importance. “Congratulations, Xavier.”
Xavier looked around the small cave in confusion. “I beg your pardon?”
The thin smile appeared upon Aciel’s face once more. “Congratulations,” he said again, “you’ve come this far and you’ve yet to question Eleanor’s presence. Can you not sense her?”
Xavier tuned into the scents around him, but they all were various earthly objects: dirt, fire, water. Xavier realized he couldn’t sense any other Vampire’s presence. So that would mean... “What are you?”
Aciel lifted his hands and clapped them together in mock applause. “Bravo. Bravo. Bravo! You’ve finally realized.” His dark eyes narrowed. “But what have you realized, Xavier? That I am no mere man, nor Vampire, nor Lycan? You see, I am all of those. A Vampire when it suits me.” He stepped toward the sleeping Lycans, “A Lycan when I feel like it.” He turned to the Vampire once more, smiling his thin smile, “and a man when convenient.”
Xavier stepped away not daring to believe what he said. “How is that possible?”
“How is what possible? That I am able to suppress the blood of all three Creatures when I choose to do so? It’s quite easy.” He expressed a look of discomfort. “Of course, that is...once you can get past the blinding pain of the first initial transformation. After that, however, it’s quite,” his smile returned, “liberating.”
He took another step backwards, trying his best to locate the familiar scent of a Vampire’s blood, the disgusting smell of Lycan fur, or the weak aura of a human man. None of these arrived to him at all. “What does this have to do with me? With Eleanor?”
“We’ve arrived at the question haven’t we? Hm. Let’s see. It has everything to do with you and Eleanor, for you see, Xavier, she was the one that introduced me to this life, as it were. And she wants you to join us.” Aciel’s tongue slithered through his lips as he talked.
He forced the sight of Eleanor, weak and hungry, out of his mind. “If she’s alive, wouldn’t she have come to me herself?”
Aciel walked idly through the small cave, turning when he reached a wall, letting his legs linger before stepping off the ground again. “I’ll admit,” he sighed, “and this is between you and me, of course—she’s a bit theatrical. Wants to show you how powerful she’s become. Wants it to be...special.” He gave Xavier a most-significant look.
“Wh—?”
“C’mon then, she’s this way,” he said, ignoring Xavier’s puzzled expression, pushing past him, proceeding to walk down the long tunnel once more.
Xavier glanced at the sleeping Lycans, mind rattled with what he’d just been told, when he realized he’d never seen the beasts so submissive before. Usually, they thrashed about, unable to quell their lust to bring death and decay wherever they roamed. It was quite the contrast, seeing them resting there, their fur illuminated by the flames, almost seeming incapable of death.
One of the Lycans lifted its head and yawned, revealing many rows of sharp fangs.
Almost. Which begged the question: How did Aciel control them? Were they able to turn from Lycan to Vampire or human at will as well?
One of the Lycans raised its head and opened its eyes, staring at him, and he held the gaze, half-expecting the beast to charge, but the Lycan put its head back down and resumed its sleep.
Xavier let out a flustered sigh, unsure of what was going on at all, and gazed down the tunnel, in which he could see nothing. He remembered that night and how the Lycan burst through her. And yet, here was a man telling him now that she somehow survived. That she was alive—if changed. But how changed? Did she really possess this new power Aciel spoke of?
Yes, he knew the risk of this being a trap was great, but it was a chance he was willing to take if it meant that Eleanor still lived.
The wind picked up when he stepped onto soft earth.
Aciel leaned against a nearby tree. “Having second thoughts, my Lord?” the man asked, never looking down from the dark sky.
“No,” Xavier said, his interest in who this man was growing with each passing second.
“Interesting,” he quipped, finally bringing his gaze toward Xavier. “Are you really so eager to see her?”
Xavier said, “Take me to her. I will hold it to you to keep your word.”
“Oh? And if I don’t? I see you have no weapons.”
Xavier cursed himself for leaving the Ascalon with his horse, as he’d assumed he’d have no need for it. “Where is she?”
Aciel returned his eyes to the darkly swirling sky. “She’s here now.”
Indeed, the wind picked up even more, and Xavier felt the alarm that came along with it. A restless, dangerous feeling that sunk deep into his core and refused to leave. And then...
“Xavier...”
He blinked, unsure of what he’d heard. It had been a whisper, a barely-spoken word for his ears alone, although Aciel now stood at attention near his tree. He felt his blood boil the more the wind danced around him, blowing his hair and clothes away from and against his body, and it was then that what he was, a Vampire, seemed so incredibly insignificant against this.
He listened hard as the wind howled past his ears, the voice sounding again, a bit louder than before, but still submerged beneath the screaming wind:
“Xavier Delacroix...”
And with this utterance of his name, the wind seemed to dance a few feet before him through the trees and he stared as a woman clad in a tattered dark cloak appeared there. Her hair was long and wavy; much longer than it was the last night he’d seen her. It danced in the wind, away from her face, which was slightly longer, he saw, but still held the elegant beauty he knew all too well. She stared straight at him, her eyes no longer a calming brown, but instead, a dark and murderous color he couldn’t name.
“Xavier,” she said.
He found his throat clogged with a heavy pressure. She was alive. “Eleanor...” he choked, unsure of what she would do, what more she would say, why she had come—.
She moved lithely, taking her time in walking toward him, shedding her tattered cloak to reveal a worn blouse, ruffled at the collar and cuffs. The many necklaces still remained and fell over her collarbones, dipping onto her chest, and as she stopped near a tree much closer to him, she smiled.
“So you came,” she said. “I really didn’t think you would.”
He stared, quite aware he was able to smell her scent. The familiar fragrance of lilac and fresh blood. “You didn’t think I would?” His voice unable to rise higher than a whisper. How was it possible that she still lived?
“No, to be truthful, I didn’t think you would come. To hear that I was still alive, well, I wasn’t sure how you would react, or if at all.”
He stared at her in disbelief, only aware that he had to keep talking to her. He felt if he didn’t, she would disappear from him, and he’d be left with her voice lingering in his ears. “Eleanor,” he began, “how is this possible. How are you—”
“Alive?” Her laugh was still as contagious as it ever was. “There are many things that were hidden from us in the Order.”
He didn’t know why he didn’t notice it before. Her eyes were changing color, going from dark gray to dark blue. All dark colors. “What kind of things were hidden from us Eleanor?”
“Many things,” she whispered, shaking her head as though sad, but it was feigned. The way her eyes narrowed upon him, he gathered she didn’t feel sad about any of it. “Many, many things. Things that Dracula,” her tongue lingered on the letters as she said them, “didn’t want us to know.”
“What...are you?”
A smile much like the one Aciel still wore found its way onto her lips. “Has he not told you?” she said, gesturing a hand toward the man who now stared at them with much more interest than before.
Xavier’s eyes moved from her to him and back. “He’s told me interesting tales. I...don’t know what to make of it, however.”
“Then,” Eleanor said, walking closer to him, “allow me to show you the truth of these tales.” She pressed herself against him, standing on tiptoe to reach his ear, in which she whispered, “Vampire.”
His blood boiled in his veins. He felt her grow colder, watching in bewilderment as her skin glowed white against the strange dark. He could not speak when she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned away from him, smiling, her fangs clearly visible against her bottom lip.
“Remind you of old times?” she said, sparking within him a desire to kiss her.
The feel of her, the coldness of her skin, the beauty of her, indeed, brought back the memories he had all but suppressed upon her death. And for the first time, he cursed himself for letting her go. For letting Damion take her. “It does,” he agreed.
He eyed her lips, feeling her gaze upon him as she leaned in closer, stopping just before his own. And then her voice blew into him, a settling wind, but also tainted, dangerous, the words they carried housing a truth he could not begin to fathom.
“Xavier, we are looking for more...more Vampires...more Lycans...more humans who wish to join us. But, of course, what interests me...is...you.”
And their lips met at last.
He was thrilled to find hers were as he remembered, dreamed about, soft and cold against his own. Her tongue slithered through his lips, the pleasure causing his blood to surge within his veins. She was alive. For if nothing else could have convinced him the ghost he stared at, held, had truly returned, it was this.
She pulled away from him at last, much to his dismay, and breathed. It was quite possibly the coldest breath he’d ever felt against his skin. She said nothing as she released her grip from his neck and stepped away, her eyes never leaving his own.
He held the gaze, unable to look away, not desiring to look away, to lose her stare upon him.
She licked her lips, her fangs returning to normal teeth. “You have just seen one of my many faces, Xavier. As a Vampire, I was colder than cold, but I could resist the urge to taste you, another Vampire, no matter...how delicious your blood may be. You see, Xavier, I have taken what is owed to us. To you, to me,” she outstretched her arms, “to all Dark Creatures, as it were.”
Xavier braced himself, wondering, indeed, if she were to show him her other form, that of an overgrown dog.
She shook her head. “Ah, no need to prepare yourself for a fight. I will not show you all of my faces tonight, my love. I have come to ask you to join us.” She pointed a hand at him, sure to say, as Aciel watched carefully, “Xavier Delacroix, Lord of Vampires, you will do wonderfully at my side as King of the Elite Creatures.”
He blinked, certain she had regained a more human form. Her skin was no longer pale, it held the glow of life, but her eyes were still shifting in their color. Her blood drifted to his nose, but it was no longer the blood of a Vampire, it smelled quite ordinary, quite delicious.
“Xavier?” she said, pulling him from his thoughts.
He stared at her, seeing her outstretched hand, her waiting gaze, and remembered her proposition. “I-I can’t possibly, Eleanor.”
“Oh, I see,” she said, and he noticed how quickly her vibrant features changed. She became livid. “These are one of those matters that require your time. Very well. I will give you...two months to come to a decision.” She walked away, snapping her fingers for Aciel to join her. Then she said, “I should warn you, Xavier, if you decide not to join us, I won’t be held responsible for what happens to you and your little friends.”
What?
“Eleanor!” he cried, his voice finding its freedom at the sight of her back. “Eleanor, wait! What about the others? Everyone needs to see you, know you’re alive. Eleanor!”
She continued walking further into the trees, though he could hear her voice from where he stood, it faded with every step she took, “Don’t tell them a thing, Xavier. I only want you to know of me...”
Her voice trailed. His mind raced with frantic question. Had she truly just threatened him? And what was she? Knowing he could not let her out of his sight, he said the first thing that came to mind: “Eleanor! Eleanor! What about Damion?! He is distraught by your death—!”
He heard her footsteps halt, and then she was flying toward him, sending his words to die with her wild appearance. She was now a swirl of hair and fangs, her red eyes brilliant in the night, the strange darkness surrounding her seemingly keeping her in the air. She looked as though she emerged from within it. “What did you say?” Her voice was terribly cold, horrible in its sound.
It was then that he knew she was greatly changed indeed. He could not help but feel, as he stared at her, that she wasn’t a Vampire, whatever her appearance would have him believe.
And with a low voice, he opened his mouth and said, “Damion...he isn’t coping well with the news of your death. You...you must see him—!”
“Damion is not of my concern!” she shouted, her voice sending his to disappear within his throat.
What happened to you? he thought as she continued, landing on the cold ground, her red eyes never leaving his, a faint hint of tenderness within that gaze. “I don’t care for Vampires that cannot withstand my existence. You recall the feeling of Dracula in your presence? The feverish, blood-boiling feeling he gives others of his own kind?”
He nodded, his voice long gone with the wind that brought Eleanor back to him.
“You are able to withstand it because our blood is the same—the blood of an Elite. Before the Vampire City, there were the select few who held the blood of pure.”
He found he could do nothing but stare.
A smile lifted her lips, though it did not reach her eyes, nor did it quell the strange darkness that lingered around her. “He hasn’t told you, yet...it is a shame the Vampire continues to keep his secrets from you. It pains me to have to do this, of course, but it is the only way I can weed out the hopeless from the strong.”
“What do you mean?”
She stepped up to him and placed a cold hand on his face, his eyes unable to close against that touch. It was not comforting in the least. A strange sensation filled him the more he stared, a great feeling that he should not be near her at all...
“You will know what I mean, my love...but you must join us before the truth can be revealed.” Her lips found his once more, his eyes closing with the feeling of them.
It was not until he felt the cold air against them that he opened his eyes, finding himself quite alone in the wood, her tattered cloak several feet from him on the ground.
He walked toward it, mind blank with the dream he just had, for none of it could be real. As he stooped to pick it up, the voice filled his mind, and the swirl of unease reached him all at once:
“Remember, two months.”