Bloodline by Joel Abernathy

20

Present Day

After transferringonto three different trains, the last one above ground, since we were not yet well within Enoch’s territory, I was beginning to think the journey itself was part of Enoch’s revenge. What better way to make me suffer than subjecting me to such endless wandering that I would fall at his feet with gratitude just to be “home”?

Or so he probably thought. In reality, no journey could ever be worse than that wretched destination. I hadn’t seen him in centuries, and yet it hardly seemed like a day. The endless separation I had once thought unbearable seemed far too short now that it was at its end.

Alden proved to be pleasant company for the duration of the trip, but I knew better than to think I could trust him. He was devoted solely to Enoch, and his reverence for me stemmed from that devotion, nothing more. I might have been Enoch’s sire, but it was obvious he was far more of a vampire than I ever had been. He’d taken the species to new heights, according to Alden.

While I doubted the boy’s objectivity, I had no doubt as to the veracity of his statements. Enoch had left his mark on this world, that much was sure. The mark he’d left on me was equally indelible.

Alden had blindfolded me between train transfers after Las Vegas, so I had no clues about our current location to go off of, other than the time we’d spent traveling and the scenery outside. Even that was unreliable, considering they might easily have taken us on a circuitous route to further conceal the location of this infamous castle.

I was almost flattered Enoch thought me enough of a threat to be worth the while.

Alden reached into his pocket and pulled out a familiar blindfold. He gave me an apologetic look, but I wasn’t going to complain.

“I take it we’re close?” I asked, allowing him to tie the blindfold in place.

“We are,” he said. I could feel him standing near, probably looking out the window. “Lord Enoch has been alerted to your arrival.”

“Wonderful,” I murmured. I had no doubt his reception would be less than warm. Then again, he had taken great pains to get me here. I’d thought of making an escape attempt once or twice during the transfers, but even if I could outmaneuver the younger, stronger vampires who surrounded me, I was admittedly curious as to what Enoch had achieved and how his territory would align with the expectations I’d formed based on Daniel’s words.

There was also a part of me, however much I wished to deny it, that longed for reunion. The ties that bound us were made of betrayal and loathing, but they were strong. Perhaps even stronger than the chains of love that had once bound me to Jonas. He, too, was my child, and his death had ruined me, but during all the nights I lay awake, tormented by the hole inside me, it was not in his shape but Enoch’s.

In those moments, I wondered. Did he think of me as often? I had become as obsessed as he once was. Was there any part of him that felt the wound, or was I merely a trinket that had escaped him? Something he longed to possess only because it eluded him?

The questions were enough to ensure my compliance, for the moment. And if they weren’t, what could I even do against him? Enoch had easily overpowered me as a fledgling, barely a few seconds old, and in the time that had elapsed since then, he’d amassed an army. An empire, as Alden put it so succinctly.

Another possibility occurred to me. Perhaps Enoch had no interest in using me as Daniel had. It was obvious he was perfectly capable of siring his own brood. Perhaps he had finally found a way to kill me and wished to rid himself of the only tether that remained to his life before. To his humanity.

I could imagine a man like Enoch recognized this accursed bond for the weakness it was. Stupidity was not one of his vices. That possibility alone was enough to make the trip worth the while. We would both win, then. He would be free of my existence, and so would I.

The train’s brakes screeched as it ground to a halt. The engine gave one final wheeze as the great beast finally stopped, and I found my heart racing in anticipation at the thought that these might be my final moments.

“Allow me, Your Majesty,” Alden said, taking my hand to help me up from my seat.

Those words were not ones I was ever going to be used to, but it wouldn’t matter for long enough to correct him.

“Thank you,” I said, letting him lead me out of the car. Even though the blindfold was solid, I could feel the warmth of the sun on my skin and took a deep breath, letting it bathe my soul. Alden had proudly shown me his daywalker markings on the trip, so I knew he was faring fine, but I seemed to be the only vampire who actually enjoyed the sunlight.

It did not last long. Alden ushered me into another vehicle and as comfortable as the cool darkness probably was to the others, I felt the strangest surge of sadness.

Was that to be my final moment in the sun? It seemed a pity to have been blinded to it.

I could feel Alden at my side and the car soon started onto the road. I knew we were in the back, since there was only the wall of a partition before me, so someone else was driving.

“You must be so excited,” Alden said in a wistful tone. He had correctly read into the meaning of my quickened heartbeat, but I very much doubted he had guessed the reason behind that excitement.

“Yes,” I answered softly. There was no reason to infect his opinion of his master with the truth. Lies were far more pleasant to believe. One could build a whole life on a lie and live it happily until death. It was the truth that left one cold and wanting.

After ten or fifteen minutes, the vehicle slowed to a halt. When Alden came around to help me out, I realized we were inside some structure that had the sun blocked out entirely. I swallowed my disappointment and allowed him to guide me onward.

He came to a stop and slipped the blindfold from my eyes. I opened them to find myself standing in the center of a great hall with a vaulted ceiling capped in sharpened arches that resembled daggers carved in stone. There were thick pillars lining the hall, which seemed to stretch on eternally, each of them adorned with beautiful inlaid carvings of saints and angels. The floors were a glossy chessboard of black-and-cream tile, so smooth I could see my reflection in them.

I realized only then I had been expecting a larger version of the cold, modern buildings of Daniel’s world rather than a gothic castle. The only similarity between them was the fact that, despite the dark stone and dreary construction, there were stained glass windows everywhere, allowing soft light to pour into the room, illuminating the colorful scenes depicted therein.

For the first time since I had woken up, I found myself in a world I recognized, and the splendor of it was enough to take my breath away. For a moment, however brief, I forgot why I was there and who had summoned me.

“This way, Your Majesty,” Alden said, drawing me back into reality.

I followed him and realized the hall did have an end, after all, as well as countless other corridors branching off it. The stained glass made it impossible to see anything but the vague shapes of trees outside, but even that was a wonder.

Trees! How long it had been since I’d seen anything green and living.

Alden led me into a magnificent room behind a set of wooden doors, and I held my breath, awaiting Enoch on the other side. I had thought I was ready, but I realized that was far from the case. My chest seized up as if a giant hand had wrapped around me and was squeezing as tightly as possible.

When I realized the room was empty, my beating heart sank a little. It wasn’t quite a bedroom, though there was a sofa on the other end of the room, covered in pillows. The floors were a glossy marble and the windows, while not stained glass, were too heavily textured to provide a proper look outside. I noticed the inset tub by one of the larger windows, and all the other accouterments. Towels, lotions, toiletries of every imaginable variety, fragrant enough that they made my head spin even from the other side of the room.

“I don’t understand,” I said, turning back to Alden. “Where is Enoch?”

“In his throne room, awaiting your arrival,” he answered. “He’s asked to make sure you’re prepared first.”

“You mean he’s asked that I be made presentable.” The young man’s sheepish expression told me I had guessed correctly. I sighed. “Very well, then. I wouldn’t wish to disappoint him.”

“I’m sure you could stand to relax after the long journey,” said Alden. “I’ll send your attendants in to help you dress soon.”

My attendants?I didn’t know what game my sired son was playing at, but now I was going to have to work up the nerve to face him all over again.

I eyed the steaming bath with some trepidation. It had been a long trip, and I was quite certain my appearance was in a sorrier state than usual. I walked over and slipped out of the clothes they’d given me to change into on the second train. The dark silk blouse and trousers were a bit unusual, but much closer to what I was used to wearing than the garish items that had been made for me by Daniel’s brother. Those I did not miss at all.

As I sank into the water, the lingering cuts on my arms stung enough that air hissed through my teeth, but the heat felt wonderful. I rested my back against the stone interior of the tub and allowed a moan to escape my lips. I should have healed by now, even though Daniel hadn’t forced blood on me after the last failed turning. I wasn’t sure if he’d forgotten or merely wanted me to suffer, but with or without his blood, the wounds should have at least been scars by now. More confirmation of my theory that I was finally coming apart at the seams.

Once my muscles were sufficiently relaxed, I began to wash with the nearest scented elixir on the ledge. It was a bottle of pale blue substance with swirls and little particles that glimmered like diamonds. It smelled like jasmine and something decidedly floral, and it was a good deal gentler on my hair than the goop in Daniel’s shower had been. The soaps were equally luxurious and absurd. By the time I got out of the bath, I was going to be as thoroughly spiced as a Christmas ham.

As Alden promised, the door opened and two young men slipped in, their bare feet padding silently against the marble as they approached the bath. They were both shirtless, though the one on the left was muscular while the other was more waifish. They both had golden-blond hair of such a similar shade they might easily have been brothers. They kept their eyes downcast, but I saw a flash of brilliant red beforehand. Both bowed low to me, just as the soldiers on the train had.

I would never get used to such bizarre treatment. Not that it would last long. If I made it through the night without either being killed or imprisoned, I would be shocked, and not in an entirely pleasant way.

“Your Majesty,” they said in unison, their disparate voices harmonizing together.

The muscular one said, “We have been sent to attend you in preparation for Lord Enoch’s presence.”

“So I’ve been told,” I murmured, squeezing the excess water from my hair. “Tell me, what are your names?”

They exchanged a quick glance of confusion at the question.

The muscular one answered, “I am Exton, and this is my brother, Milo.”

“Such interesting names.” I leaned over the ledge of the bath, folding my arms on the stone as I watched them. “You’re fledglings, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said Exton. If Milo hadn’t addressed me initially, I would have thought he couldn’t speak at all.

“And I assume Lord Enoch is the one who turned you?”

They both looked up with wide, crimson eyes. Such a vivid hue of red, and it couldn’t all be blamed on the lighting. It seemed the citizens of Enoch’s kingdom felt no need to hide their nature, as Daniel’s men did. Not the vampires, at any rate.

“Only the warriors are gifted with Lord Enoch’s blood,” Exton explained, as if it was a great honor. “We are merely pleasure servants.”

“Of course you are,” I muttered under my breath. I told myself my reaction was nothing more than disgust that Enoch had clearly succumbed to his father’s weakness for whores and power, even if the latter was on a mass scale, but deep down, I wasn’t sure. I’d never been entirely sure about the ways he made me feel. Those emotions were not always logical, or even comprehensible.

“We’re meant as a gift to you, should you wish to accept,” Milo said in a voice as gentle and whispering as spring rain.

I felt an immediate twinge of guilt for feeling anything resembling jealousy toward the young men in front of me. Boys who looked barely any older than my physical body was, and I doubted they had been alive much longer.

“That won’t be necessary,” I said as gently as I could.

Milo looked devastated by my response nonetheless, and while Exton was better at hiding his emotions, I could tell he was troubled as well.

“We displease you, Your Majesty?” asked Exton.

“No. No, not at all,” I assured him. I smiled sadly, seeing so much of my younger self in them both. I remembered so little of my human life, but it came back in glimpses here and there. I knew the dread of being offered to a powerful stranger. Wondering whether I would be beaten and raped that night, or merely used and thrown away to be forgotten by morning. “I’m afraid I lack the appetite for such things these days, but I will assure your master of your exemplary service.”

Relief flashed in their eyes, and I felt my loathing for Enoch intensify. This was far from the worst of his sins, but there was no doubt in my mind that he’d sent these boys just to get under my skin. To remind me of what I once had been, as if my whoring days were somehow more cause for shame than being his sire was.

As I walked toward the stairs leading from the bath, Exton was there in an instant, offering a hand. I took it, knowing that to resist their efforts any further would only cause them trouble. I felt his gaze traveling over the fresh injuries running up my arms and shoulders, but he kept a straight face as his brother offered me a plush towel to dry off on.

“Thank you,” I said, taking it from him.

Exton moved to a trunk I hadn’t noticed against the wall, pulling out a set of silk clothes in dark hues of plum and crimson. As they helped me into the layered robes, I realized fashion had not progressed quite as much as I feared in this part of the world. In fact, I hadn’t worn any garments such as this in centuries. The sleeves were long and loose enough to cover my hands when they rested at my sides, but Milo took great care to ensure that the garment hung off my shoulders, revealing the whole of my throat and collarbone. There was a silk sash the color of blood cinched tightly around my waist to bind the robes together, and the layers fell in such a way that a sliver of each jeweled color was visible.

Though the robes brushed my ankles, I felt quite unclothed. Especially when Milo tried to gather my freshly oiled tresses into another ribbon. I raised a hand to stop him and gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’d rather leave it down.”

He nodded in submission and instead began to twist a thick, wavy section of hair at the front of my face into a braid. His nimble fingers worked quickly, securing the braid with golden fasteners before he made another on the opposite side. Once he was finished, he placed a golden circlet around my forehead. It was adorned with a teardrop ruby that resembled a drop of blood—by no accident, I was sure—dangling from the center. In the meantime, Exton secured a layered necklace of solid gold around the base of my throat. The tiered strands brushed my clavicle, partially covering what the loose robes had left bare.

I couldn’t help but suspect they were dressing me for burial, but they didn’t seem to know it. When at last they’d given me a pair of thronged sandals to slip into, they led me out into the hall where Alden was waiting alongside several armed guards. I noticed they, unlike the ones on the train, were wearing brilliant uniforms of light blue with golden trim and ornaments. Alden had changed as well, and his uniform was the most splendid of all, making his high status within Enoch’s forces clear.

His eyes widened as they landed on me, as if he was witnessing a thing of beauty. At first, I was sure he was looking at one of the servants, but when his eyes met mine, they quickly darted away in shame.

“Your Majesty,” he said, bowing once more. “You look divine.”

I knew if I made the self-effacing mark on the tip of my tongue, it would reflect poorly on Exton’s and Milo’s efforts, so I kept my mouth shut and took the arm Alden offered me. He led me down the hall and I realized I should have known the other room wasn’t the throne room by the doors alone. As I stood staring up at the massive doors carved from white marble, accented with gold and adorned with the same intricate figures of angels that decorated the outer halls, there was no doubt about it.

This was the throne room. My heart thrummed anxiously in my chest as I waited for those doors to open, well aware that on the other side, he would be waiting.

My child.

My demon.

My sin and my soul.

I’d once thought my greatest fear was meeting my maker and finding out just how far I’d fallen short of his standards, but now I knew the truth. My greatest fear and my greatest hope lay in the hands of my own cruel and beautiful creation. He was the one who would decide my fate, and looking back, remembering the way those once light eyes had bored into me so possessively even back then, it seemed so painfully obvious.

Bound by fate, together at last. It had taken me so much longer than him, but as those doors slid open, I finally realized it, too, as his words from so long ago came back to me.

“You cannot escape me. In the end, there will only be you and I.”

It was always meant to end this way.

Enoch knew. He had always known.

Alden went ahead of me, walking down the lily white carpet that led to the base of the throne. Time seemed to slow down as I followed him, his broad shoulders obscuring the figure in the glorious seat of twisted iron. He reached the end of the carpet and stepped aside, lowering himself to one knee in the same gallant bow with which he had first greeted me.

“Your Majesty,” he said in a reverent tone, his head lowered and his hand over his heart.

I kept my eyes fixed ahead, unable to blink or even breathe. Centuries had passed, and yet the man before me was so much the same as he had been. He had the same raven black hair, though now it was cut shorter, just long enough to show its luster as it fell into his eyes. They were as bloody and wild as they had been the night I left him. The night I made him. His skin was the same pale shade, made ethereal with its glow, only accentuating the perfection of his wickedly handsome face.

And what a face it was. Dark brows drawn in a cruel arch over a strong Roman nose and full lips perpetually set in either a scowl or a smirk. It was somewhere in between, at the moment.

No, he hadn’t changed at all. And yet, as he rose from his throne, I hardly recognized him. He was taller than I remembered. More imposing. Perhaps it was because I still remembered him as the boy he’d been as much as the man. I’d known them both for equal lengths of time.

I had expected Enoch to be wearing robes similar to the ornate clothing I had been given, but instead, he wore a black floor-length coat with the same military style rivets running down his chest and trim waist as Alden’s. The high collar came well up to his sharp jawline, open enough to reveal a cravat the same silky black as his hair. His broad shoulders were crested by gilded armor covering a cloak of black velvet that flowed over his powerful form and brushed the marble floors. It moved like a shadow around him as he approached, his gait as powerful and graceful as a lion’s.

In the admittedly brief time I had spent among my own kind, Enoch was the first one I’d seen who actually looked like a vampire. Like one who had survived the kiss of death and taken dominion over its realm as his prize. It occurred to me only as he began descending the steps leading down from the throne that I should kneel like every other vampire in the room, soldier and servant alike. At the very least, I should have bowed, but I couldn’t. It wasn’t pride that disallowed me the courtesy, but rather the fact that my body itself seemed frozen, locked in whatever trance had my gaze seized and my chest too tight for breath.

For so long, I had imagined this moment. What I might feel. What I might say. No amount of rehearsal in my mind could have prepared me for my actual reaction, which was to become absolutely still in body and mind. There was nothing outside of Enoch. His otherworldly appearance, his imposing presence, his smooth, catlike movements as entrancing as they were menacing. And really, weren’t all the deadliest predators plenty of both?

More than anything else, it was the sound of his heartbeat that captivated me. It seemed to overtake the rhythm of my own, commanding the very thing that had given him a second life. He came to a stop several feet away, close enough for his familiar scent to conjure the long forgotten echoes of the past. The last time I’d seen him, I had been much too focused on my own thundering pulse and the drive to escape to notice whether or not his heart was still beating. What I hadn’t known then was just how many accumulative years I would spend wishing I had lingered long enough to answer that very question.

Now I knew. We were alike now, him and I. Both living and dead. Both young and ancient.

No… “alike” implied there was ever any separation between us, and as I stood before him, I knew that to be false. Without realizing it, I had approached him, or perhaps it was him who’d closed the remaining distance between us. Either way, my trembling hand came to rest over the spot where his heart should have been and felt my own beating instead, as if he’d been holding it captive all along within the cage of his ribs. As if it had merely been waiting for me to come claim it all this time.

His gaze traveled over me, slow and domineering. He was studying a possession long owned but only recently recovered, testing the planes of my face and body against the etchings of his memories. I wondered if he found his to be as woefully inaccurate as mine were.

He pulled a white glove off his hand in a slow, sensuous gesture and caressed my cheek with his fingertips. I recoiled at the sensation of his perfect flesh against my terrible scars, but his other hand found my back and crushed me against the sturdy wall of his chest hard enough that a breath escaped me.

“Marcellus,” he breathed, his voice low and intimate, as if it was only the two of us in the room. In all the world. His gaze lowered to my throat and something flashed in those eyes, cruel and hungry and familiar. The way he’d looked at me that night. The way he’d looked at me long before he claimed me, blood and soul.

Just when I was certain he was going to sink those stark-white fangs into my throat once more—just when I had come to long for it, my eyes fluttering shut in anticipation, hoping he’d finally finish what he started so long ago—he stole a kiss instead. It was every bit as forceful and greedy as his bite had been then, if not even more so, and if it hadn’t been for his arm wrapped firmly around me, it would have thrown me off my feet.

Confusion mingled with pleasure, and shame rushed through my veins like fire. My chest grew tight with horror as I realized my lips had parted to return the kiss, allowing his silver tongue to plunder the cool hollow of my mouth the way he’d taken everything else.

At that moment, it made sense. This was the only thing left for him to take, and Enoch was a man who could never stand to own something only in part. Not even something he’d never wanted in the first place.

When he finally broke the kiss, because I hadn’t the strength or the shame to do so on my own, I found myself utterly lost. In his eyes, in myself, in the world.

A wicked smile curved his lips, his fingers tracing along the edge of my jaw. “Welcome home, Sire.”

Never had a string of words in any tongue struck me so violently. No cruel epithet, no words of love, nor any threat of death. Something that cut like hatred and ached like longing tore into my chest, as if he’d taken my very soul into his hand and wrenched it from my body. It was a far more intense version of the same indefinable emotion that welled up within me every time I thought of him.

Now I knew what it was.

For the very first time in my endless existence, I was home.

The End of Book 1.

Marcellus’ story continues soon with Book 2, Descendant.