~ Galen ~
October 26th, 2015
The night before the full moon
He was here—my Master was somewhere inside the ruin of a small building that stood half broken before me. An abandoned establishment down some back street in this crowded metropolis. A hole where unfortunate souls crawled into and stayed warm at nights, their mingled odours of sweat, urine, alcohol, and other such delightful fragrances clouding the damp, stale air inside. The place reeked of lost hope, broken spirits, and desperation... I couldn’t help but be amused that Marko should have ended up in such a place after the loss of his poor second Bloodling, but I couldn’t quite understand why he was here, of all places.
It had taken us three days to journey to this godforsaken country and two nights to track him down. Oh, he was weak indeed, and delighted as I was by the idea, it had proven difficult for me to trace him. We had gone to all the usual residences or spots he liked to visit, but there had been no sign of him, no sign of any Vampire, as a matter of fact.
The city had been my last hope, though I hadn’t expected to find him so far from home, but on wandering the streets, I’d felt that niggle, that stirring of his blood inside my veins, that pull that only he as a Master had over me, and I’d followed obediently until we stumbled onto this dark, dank hovel.
I remained in the doorway, or rather standing by the flimsy, rotted stretch of plywood I just had to duck under to enter the abandoned establishment. Through Leonardo’s eyes, I saw that the windows of the forgotten unit were blacked out, the odd panel of glass shattered. Graffiti was scrawled across the pale, peeling walls, and there were birds nesting in the roof.
My connection moved to Carlos who was making his way through the room, weaving between the odd drums of fuel, boxes, heaps of papers and of course, the many bodies of the homeless who took up every inch of floor space.
His focus stopped on the far right-hand corner, on a huddle of black hiding in the shadows between the wall and a row of workbenches.
“Carlos, stop. Keep your gaze on that corner.”
Picking me up, Leonardo carried me to the space beside Carlos and gently put me on my feet. The blood in my veins pulsed. Pulsed as if I had a heart to push the cells around, but no, the blood recognized its Maker. My Master, who I could sense lay huddled beneath a rotted blanket of material, hiding in the corner, all alone in the dark.
Marie’s demise had hurt me, but the pain had been bearable as we had no link of our own. No, the pain had been through the blood we shared, our poor Master’s blood which he had gifted to us both. Yes, their severed link had wounded him greatly.
I allowed myself a moment to bask in the sight of his weakened state. A sight I had never seen outside of my own mind, and it was beautiful.
Composing myself, I took two steps forward. “Μαστορα;”
The blanket moved. “Galen?”
His voice was feeble, and although it had always held the light note of youth, he sounded ill, almost his age.
Killing my desire to act in any other way but relieved, I knelt by his side, pulling the cover from him. Slender arms reached for me. Hands cradled my head, squeezing. Even in his this fragile state, he still contained too much strength.
“Galen?” he repeated again.
Through Leonardo’s eyes, I could see him pulling himself up, feel his movement in the tension in his arms. His pristine white shirt was filthy, smudges of dirt and blood marking the front. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and the top few buttons undone. The angle was wrong, his face out of my view mainly due to the mess of his shoulder-length black hair, but the scent of blood wafted from him as he drew closer to me.
“What happened to my Marie?”
The words were hoarse, almost as if real emotion stirred within him and he actually gave a damn.
“Slaughtered at the hands of a Werewolf.”
His grip on my head tightened, his fingers sliding into my hair. “How? What happened?”
“Master, this is not the place.” I placed my hands on his. “Let me take you some place clean and safe so that you may feed and rest.”
“Tell me.”
As a human boy, I had been a street urchin in Greece, telling peoples’ fortunes for a scrap of money to help my widowed mother. For God had taken my eyes but had blessed me with a different form of sight. One day, I met a young man. He was only five years older than myself and he promised he could give me back my sight, promised he could help me have a better life. A gift I later found out he was only giving through loneliness and guilt, because I reminded him so much of his nephew, who he had fed upon and inevitably murdered.
Marko made me a Vampire at the age of thirteen. My sight did not return as he had promised, and the assurance of a better life meant I had to leave my home and country, leave my mother all alone. What did happen though was my second sight strengthened. I became more receptive, and Marko so loved my gift. We used it to make money, to trick and cheat, ensnare our prey, who most of the time for him was a beautiful women. I was his little fortune teller and as the decades rolled by, he was fascinated to hear all that I had to say about what the future held, all the ways the world would change. In short, the more I foretold and the more that came true, the more he believed me.
It took me at least three centuries to realize that I could tell him anything and he would trust my word. Trust me above all because I was his first companion, his little brother, his confidant, his only friend. Whatever I saw would be the truth, and whatever I told him would happen, and I never feared lying to him as I knew he wouldn’t kill me, because the young man, aged as he was, was so full of guilt over the atrocious act he had committed against his family on the first night of his living death. That young man still lived inside this uncaring immortal before me. He wouldn’t kill me. Guilt tied me to him. My death would almost destroy him, and he cared far too much for himself to afflict such weakness.
I curled my fingers around his hands and eased them from my head. “The girl, her Wolf, and a few from his Pack showed up in Venice a few days ago. It is my belief that one of the males was a mate to the Loup that had been kidnapped from the United Pack the night we had to destroy the Farr facility. The Loup had arrived days prior. I can only presume that the monkshood would have left her system which meant that on his arrival, her mate would have been aware of her presence.”
“And you did not foresee this?”
“I saw the possibility, but given our pact with the Italian Pack, their promise to not enter our territory, the outcome was small. I did not believe the Alpha would want to break peace over other Packs’ theories. It is my belief Luca had given Marie’s whereabouts away in a plea to save his life that night at the blood house. Having taken the girl to the facility and then the kidnapping, I suppose she might have put two and two together on the possible whereabouts of another facility being in Venice. That, or she had help from her grandmother.”
Disgust tinted his tone. “Her deceased grandmother—”
“Who was still a very skilled psychic up until her dying day and might have seen enough to warn her granddaughter. As soon as I realized the girl was in our territory, we dispatched some of our men to retrieve her and the Wolves. They died. I knew that if the Italian Pack found out about the facility, well, by that point, I knew they would find out. So I sent word to Antonia to leave with all the research we had, including that which had come from Farr. The females who had been detained at Poveglia...were expendable and from what Antonia had told me, the offspring would likely die and therefore be useless to us and the research which had been conducted there. There was no point wasting any more time on them. Some of the Colony fled, but Marie and those of her Bloodlings who remained refused to do so, even knowing the Italian Pack would be coming. Marie was determined to face the girl, to avenge Luca regardless of her weakened state, and the fresh blow from the severed links of the rest of her Bloodlings...” I grasped his hands. “She almost killed the girl, but one of the Italian Alpha’s sons stopped her.”
“Such a shame. It would have saved me killing her.”
“It may please you to know that the Slayer did die momentarily...”
“Momentarily?”
I kept my head downcast.
“What is it, Galen?” he asked when I did not continue straight away.
“Her Werewolf gave her his blood, bonded with her—”
He pulled his hands from mine. “You mean to tell me that not only is my Ancestor still alive, but she now has both our virus and the Were-gene inside her?”
I let my hands drop to my lap. “If she survives the full moon tomorrow, she will be a Hybrid, the creature we have spent a decade discussing and the last two years actively attempting to create.”
I watched him through Leonardo’s eyes. He ran his fingers through his messy locks, the sharp angles of his face flashing into view for a moment. “And what are the chances of her survival?”
“Half and half.”
He shoved me back, the action that of an older brother mad at his younger sibling. Not of two grown men each over six centuries old.
I willingly fell to my bottom in mock defeat, hanging my head in submission.
“I am sorry I cannot give you better news, Master. The paths of Fate have split violently these last few days. The outcome of tomorrow night is dependent on the girl’s inner strength and that of her mate and Pack.”
“Well, let us hope she has little strength left after her near-death experience. I believe the struggles a human’s body goes through when changing to a Werewolf are painful enough for one to wish for death. Maybe she will pray for it and God will be merciful.”
I watched through Leonardo’s eyes as Marko’s head swung in the direction of Carlos.
“You.” He pointed at my Bloodling. “Help me up and out of here.”
Carlos stepped forward and offered his hand to my Master, who placed his slender fingers in his and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. The dirty blanket fell away from him.
“I know not all has gone to plan, but the girl’s survival may actually prove beneficial in the long run.” I pushed myself off the floor. “Firstly, it would prove that it is possible for a human to contain both our virus and their gene, and secondly, you might not need to worry about ending her life yourself.”
“How so?” Hand on Carlos’ shoulder, he followed my Bloodling through the huddled masses, towards the makeshift door.
“She will be an outcast in her new Pack.” Leonardo picked me up and followed. “She will be stronger, faster, and need blood to maintain herself. She will be a danger, and they will grow to fear her. Some will even think it best to destroy her.”
“That would be helpful, indeed. Maybe this mess will work to our advantage, but if she survives and comes to find me... I need to be at full strength so I can break her without keeling over.”
My lips turned up at the corners at the thought. “Well, if she does survive, she still has to figure out where you are, Master. Time is on our side.”
“Maybe not.”
Carlos held back the flimsy plywood and helped him through the gap. Leonardo ducked and carried me out with him. A cool breeze whipped past me, the air only somewhat fresher than it had been inside. Leonardo set me on my feet and as his gaze lifted, I saw that the streetlamp cast white light over my Master, still young and devilishly handsome. His black hair used to fall down to the base of his spine, but he had cut it some decades ago, leaving it to sit upon his shoulders. His eyes were just as dark and as piercing, and his features sharp and beautiful, for a male.
“Why do you say that? And how do you find yourself to be in this place, to begin with?”
He brushed his hands across his black trousers, flicking away flecks of dirt and dust.
“It may have escaped your notice, but our kind has been massacred. There are none but a few left in this country, and those who are left, I cannot trust.” He glanced back at the building in disgust. “I was in this neighbourhood when I lost my poor Marie. This place seemed convenient. Blacked-out windows, an endless supply of food, and no one would bother me while I rested.”
We had both been in worse places than this in the past, that was for sure.
“Those who remained—”
“They are outsiders and the one who has stepped up to take on the role of Colony Leader—” his jaw clenched, “—he is one of the experiments from the facility here. I know not how he escaped, or how he has the nerve to place himself among us, but he is not one of us. He was not made the same way.”
I had been made aware that Antonia had been experimenting with ways in which to keep our virus active inside the sperm of human males, and I had the strangest inkling she had mentioned the males that had been chosen had needed to receive our venom, therefore making them a type of Vampire. But if memory serves, I don’t believe they were turned and baptized with our blood. So the news of a different type of Vampire wasn’t a complete shock, though it proved of course fascinating.
But clearly, this ingenious idea of hers had been passed on to the other facilities, though I was clueless as to why, considering her branch of this large experiment was the only side that would make sense and use of the need to create a Vampire. I was displeased that I hadn’t been made aware of this procedure, but more so that I had been told all individuals had been destroyed at the facility here. Either someone had lied, or they hadn’t noticed they were missing a patient.
“Then we kill him.”
“Not so easy. His companion…” His lips twisted in to a bemused grin. “If you can believe it, is one of my Ancestors.”
There was only one other Ancestor who was supposedly, or rather should have been, actively seeking him, but the fact she was with a Vampire... “You mean the cousin?”
“Yes. To my amusement, I have led them to believe I am but a young Vampire who was fortunately not found during the recent slaughter of our kind. I would very much like to kill him and her, but as the new Colony Leader, he has made a Pact with the Alpha, similar to the one you held in Italy. And she is over here looking for her dear cousin. If I killed them, my identity would be known and I am not ready to reveal myself just yet.”
Events had most definitely taken an interesting turn, but success was still possible as long as Heather survived her first full moon.
“Then what do you wish to do?”
“Nothing. I wish to see how all this plays out. I wish to let them figure it out for themselves, and when I am healed, I will take much enjoyment in killing them all slowly. Oh, to see the shock in their eyes when they realize I have been right under their nose all this time…”