CHAPTER EIGHT: BLOOD RUN TRUE

Earlier…

“Fascinating! You say he used telekinesis to do this?  A human?” Lord Balthazar Ravenscroft asked as leaned over the body of the female Horys Vampire.  The stakes still stuck out of her body like a porcupine’s quills. Balthazar touched the pointy end of one and mock-shivered. “Ouch!”

“Yes, Grayson did this. His name is Grayson. The one that you took away was the one to do this,” Ryder’s voice was low and angry. 

They had practically ripped Grayson out of his arms. He hadn’t been craving the boy again. Not really. Not exactly. But he’d wanted to take Grayson somewhere safe in the Weryn house. Tuck him into his own space. Then, after talking to Lawson, he would have reported this to Balthazar and Caemorn. But the moment they had arrived through the gate, the two Immortals had been there to greet them as if expecting this. And Grayson had been taken from him. Taken away.

“Your job was to bring back Gregory Starn. After we question you, there is no need for you to have any more interactions with Grayson,” Lord Caemorn Losus replied icily. 

Caemorn wore a long crimson coat that showed off his pale skin and nearly white-blond hair. His features were handsome yet sharp. He stroked his chin absently as he stared at the near corpse even as he spoke to them.

They were in the Eyros Palace, and yet they were in a suite of rooms that was reserved for Lord Caemorn Losus or the Immortal Kaly. There was, in fact, a Kaly Palace. It looked like a gothic abomination, but it suited the Kaly Bloodline down to its bones. Yet this space, though very different with its modern glass, steel, stone and wood, also fit Caemorn. 

Half of the space was a laboratory where the female Horys Vampire and three of her companions were laid out for them to study on a metal autopsy table. The other half were comfortable rooms with neat shelves for books and scrolls and a very clean aesthetic.  

Why Caemorn would have a suite of rooms in another Immortal’s palace was unclear.  Ryder certainly had no idea. He’d thought that maybe Balthazar and Caemorn were lovers, but it was hard to imagine Caemorn touching anyone with desire unless it was the desire to marionette their dead body. Besides, they sparred with one another more like brothers or frenemies.  Those barbs had been aimed at Ryder this time and he decided to throw them back.

“And whose job was it exactly to make sure that Gregory Starn got to us alive? Not to mention that the gate worked properly?” Ryder growled. “You are the headmasters of this academy and, it is my understanding, that you are the ones who planned everything about it.”

“Well, with Seeyr’s help, of course,” Balthazar stated another Immortal’s name. 

The Immortal Seeyr’s gift was to see the future. So many these two had expected this. But why then hadn’t they saved Gregory Starn? Or ensured that he and Demos had not almost been given their Second Deaths by allowing the gate to be blocked?  The image of that glyph had already been sent to the two of them to decipher. Though if they recognized it, they weren’t telling Ryder or Demos. 

“Of course, more Immortals pulling the strings!” Ryder snarled and his chest ached. 

He drank more of the blood from the packet, finishing it, but it was not enough to do much other than reduce the severity of his burns.  Demos touched his lower back to remind him that they were not talking to just any Vampires, but two Immortals, the leaders of the Eyros and Kaly Bloodlines, and favorites of King Daemon. 

But did it matter if he said the rude parts out loud or kept them to himself? For Balthazar, who had the gift of mind reading and mind control, would know regardless what he said out loud. But in the Weryn Bloodline there were rules to be followed, respect was to be given to elders, especially Immortals now. So Ryder bit his inner cheek so hard that he tasted his own blood on his tongue to keep his inner thoughts from flowing out. 

“We’ve had quite the evening, gentlemen. Not the one we thought we would have. Based upon everything that’s happened, we think we should be informed,” Demos stated calmly. “Ryder is here representing the Weryn after all. One assumes you will be telling all the Bloodline representatives about this?”

Balthazar, wearing a modern three-piece suit that was cut perfectly to his lithe form, lifted his eyes to meet Caemorn’s. Something passed between them. But even without being able to read minds, Ryder was certain what it was. He crossed his arms over his wounded chest but grinned coldly instead of grimaced.

“I don’t think they do intend to tell the other Bloodlines, Demos,” Ryder said evenly. “I think they want to keep this little matter locked down.  They need us to keep silent in order to do that.”

“You know that Balthazar could simply read your minds and alter your memories of what occurred,” Caemorn replied just as evenly. “You wouldn’t even know that had been done,.”

A wave of unease swept through Ryder. These two Bloodlines--the Kaly and the Eyros--were looked upon with suspicion by the other Bloodlines. Eyros, because not even Vampire minds were completely immune from their control, and Kaly because… well, Kaly controlled the dead. 

“Now, now, Caemorn, that wouldn’t be friendly.”  Balthazar waved a delicate hand through the air as if that was no nevermind. “And we’re supposed to be friendly. Working together. One team. There’s no ‘I’ in team!”

Demos snorted. Balthazar flashed him a smile. Caemorn’s expression did not change. He was still regarding the Horys Vampire’s body as if she were already dead and he wanted to string up her corpse.  Balthazar turned away from his own perusal of the body. 

“You are correct that we would like to keep this… quiet, for now,” Balthazar said agreeably. “And I have a feeling that you two can keep a secret.”

“The Weryn don’t gossip,” Ryder agreed. Well, they didn’t gossip outside of their pack.

“The Weryn are highly parochial and prejudiced. You pretend you are a pack because you shift into animal forms, but, ironically, you treat other Vampires as outsiders when logic dictates that your philosophy should incorporate every Vampire, regardless of Bloodline into your pack,” Caemorn remarked.

“Humans have family units, city or town units, countries, etcetera. They are all human, but they don’t consider everyone family,” Ryder objected, stung by Caemorn’s observation for some reason.

“They do now. Because they have a common enemy.” Balthazar put both hands on his own chest. “Us.”

Ryder pursed his lips. He couldn’t really argue with that.

“And now we have the Sect of Dawn or whatever she really belongs to as a common enemy,” Balthazar pointed out.

“Don’t you know?” Demos frowned. “Can’t you read her mind and know if she spoke the truth to Grayson?”

“Her mind is… like a bowl of vegetable soup right now. I can poke around and things might float to the surface, but they don’t really show me the whole,” Balthazar described. “The others are even worse.”

“I could simply take their souls and make them talk to us.” Caemorn took out a gem the size of a pigeon’s egg from his pocket. It was a deep red and pulsed as if alive.

Demos took a step back from the Immortal Kaly.  It was Ryder’s turn to calm him down. He patted Demos’ arm and that stopped his Blood Brother from retreating.

“Yes, but if we heal them, I can get all the information out of them and turn them into spies for us. Double agents, so to speak.” Balthazar covered Caemorn’s hand with his and urged the other Immortal to put the gem back into his pocket.

Caemorn complied with a sniff. “I suppose that has some merit.”

“It has a lot of merit,” Balthazar told him firmly. “Once they’re no longer of use, you can do whatever you like to them. But, for now, I think we need them to recover. Elgar! There you are!”

Ryder whipped around to see a dark-haired man in a lime green sweatsuit holding a skull in one arm. He hadn’t heard him enter the room. Neither had Demos whose fangs were showing. The man was almost as tall as Ryder, but he was much thinner, though not a weakling by any means. Yet there was a diffidence about him. Ryder realized that he never looked at anyone, including Balthazar, even as he spoke to the Immortal.

“Master, I have already prepared the bowls,” Elgar murmured, an unknown accent--maybe German, maybe French--tinting his words.

“Of course, you already anticipated what I wanted,” Balthazar sounded pleased.

Elgar smiled at the skull. “Master turned many enemies into friends in the past. I thought it would be no different here.”

“You’re right! It isn’t!” Balthazar grinned at all of them as if Elgar had performed a neat trick.  “See, Caemorn, we don’t have to kill everyone to get what we want.”

Caemorn shrugged. “My way would be easier. But I see the value in yours. Proceed.”

“They’re all yours, Elgar!” Balthazar said with a smile.

Elgar lifted the Horys Vampire in one arm as if she weighed little more than a cat and carried her from the room. He would, undoubtedly, be back for the others.

“Now, about that Weryn secrecy thing,” Balthazar tented his fingers under his chin, “we need you to keep what happened here between us. No one else.”

“Our Master and head of our House will want to know,” Ryder said. “Beyond him, no one will be told.”

“Oh, I’m sure Lawson would! He wants many things that he’s not getting!” Balthazar let out a laugh. His silver eyes narrowed and, suddenly, he did not seem so foppish or unserious. His smile was like a blade and his words were like daggers, “Are you the representative of the Weryn Bloodline or are you not?”

“At the academy, yes, I--”

“Are we not at the academy now?” Balthazar cut him off.

Arguably, he could say they were in the Eyros Palace, not the actual academy, but he didn’t. He gave a brief nod. His cheeks flamed. Balthazar was suggesting that he wasn’t a leader. That he could not be the leader. Not if he relied upon Lawson.

“And did not King Daemon himself request you to represent the Weryn Bloodline here?” Balthazar asked.

“Yes,” Ryder hated that he sounded so unsure. 

Not that he doubted this happened or that it was Daemon’s will. But he didn’t know why he had been chosen. And he resented that it had put a wall between himself and Lawson.

“Do you intend to disobey King Daemon’s choice and run to Lawson every time a decision is to be made?” Balthazar’s voice was cold. “Or do you intend to act like the leader of your Bloodline?”

Balthazar knew his inner conflict. He had, undoubtedly, read in Ryder’s thoughts everything that had occurred with Lawson already. Maybe Seeyr had foreseen it. 

“You already know my answer,” Ryder said.

“No, no, I don’t, because you don’t know it yet,” Balthazar said with an acidic laugh. 

Ryder swallowed. “I am second in my House. Lawson has been the Weryn leader for centuries. I’ve been put in an impossible situation--”

“You doubt our king’s judgment?” Caemorn asked softly and that had Demos shifting uncomfortably.

“I don’t doubt his judgment, but I don’t understand why he is doing it,” Ryder admitted.

“Why don’t you ask me?” A voice as soft as silk whispered behind them.

Ryder and Demos whirled around to see the Vampire King standing on the threshold, smiling benevolently. He wore a long wolf fur coat that fell to his ankles and black leather pants. No shoes or boots or shirt. He looked so much like a Weryn Bloodline Vampire that Ryder was stunned into inaction. He heard more than saw Balthazar, Caemorn and Demos fall to their knees. Demos tugged at Ryder’s leg to get him to sink down too, but he couldn’t move.

Daemon was larger than Ryder. He filled the space as if his shadow was a mountain. Daemon’s eyes were red like the embers of a fire. None shared that shade. 

The Vampire King reached out to Ryder.  Without thought, Ryder took that large hand and sank gracefully down to his knees. His head lowered last so he could no longer see Daemon’s face, and yet, in his mind it was still there. Smiling knowingly. Smiling as if he had seen an old friend. Ryder had that sensation he always got before a new form was revealed to him. But this was bigger and yet it did not come.

Why did you choose me over Lawson? The thought came unbidden, bubbling up inside of him.

You already know, Daemon answered. His mind voice was as rich and startling as his outside one.

No, I…

But Ryder flashed to a memory of Lawson--drunk and belligerent on zombie-dust infused wine, the only kind that truly made Vampires drunk--swearing at some of the new Weryn Vampires and then chasing them with a broken bottle of wine to see if their blood ran true. 

You stopped him. You always stop him, Daemon pointed out.

It’s only when he’s drunk and that’s--

Too often, Daemon interrupted. Once is too much. And it's been more than once.

He apologizes when he comes to his senses! But Ryder knew what a weak defense that was as he said it. Demos and I have stopped him--

From what? Daemon asked. From hunting your own Bloodline? Or other Bloodlines? Be honest, Ryder, why have you not taken a fledgling?

Ryder blinked.  That was such an intimate question. It delved into the heart of him.  I--I haven’t found the right person! They must match not just with me but with the House and--

And with Lawson? What sort of fledgling would you want with Lawson? Daemon asked. 

Ryder grimaced. You’re making him seem like something he’s not!

Am I? Because every time you think of Lawson like this, you think of your father--

He means nothing to me!

You wish he did, Daemon sounded sad. There is a phrase I have grown to enjoy. History does not repeat, but it does rhyme. 

Ryder struggled to fight against the tide of memories of times when Lawson had stepped across a line. And when Ryder had been glad that he didn’t have his own fledgling to protect. He had the House to take care of. That was overwhelming enough. And he remembered the smack of his father’s hand against his mother’s skin overlying all of that.

If you are so sure of him, I want you to imagine him drunk and alone with Grayson, Daemon suggested.

The image immediately popped into Ryder’s head. He felt like his throat was closing up. 

No! Ryder cried before he could help himself.

Would your… feelings for Grayson not be enough to keep Lawson under control? Would he not do this for you? Daemon murmured. Surely, he wouldn’t harm who you care for no matter how new that caring!

But the images kept coming. Grayson retreating from Lawson’s swaggering form. Grayson telling Lawson to stop. To leave him alone! Threatening to use his powers if he didn’t. But Lawson kept coming. Lawson would laugh, his silver eyes shining with malicious mirth, not believing that a human like Grayson was anything other than prey.

Does your blood run pure, Grayson? Lawson asked as his gaze focused on Grayson’ throat.

NO! Ryder screamed and he would have tackled Lawson. He would have bashed his head in and… Lawson was not there. 

Ryder’s breathing was erratic. He felt more than saw Demos’ head crank to the side to check on him. His Blood Brother knew he was in distress. But there was nothing to be done. And he didn’t want Demos to catch King Daemon’s attention too. 

You would have me hate him, Ryder whispered. 

Would I? Daemon’s voice was just as soft. Or does part of you hate him already?

I… But Ryder did not finish that sentence.

Daemon was no longer standing in front of him, holding his hand. Instead, the Vampire King was over by Balthazar and Caemorn, speaking softly to both of them.  Ryder blinked. When had Daemon moved? When had Daemon left him? He glanced over at Demos who was also blinking as if surfacing from deep water. Both of them shakily got up to their feet. 

“... you must only look at today’s memories, Eyros,” Daemon said in an almost cajoling tone.

“But a human with telekinesis!  There’s so much there to explore! We need to understand where this comes from!” Balthazar responded to his Immortal name as if he had no other.

“Grayson would be among the only humans we have found with gifts similar to ours,” Caemorn pointed out, somehow surprisingly on Balthazar’s side.

“I realize, Kaly,” Daemon said, calling Caemorn by his Immortal name, too. “But merely because Eyros does not divine the information from Grayson’s mind does not mean we will not learn it.”

Balthazar lifted a sculpted, disbelieving eyebrow. “Yes, but do we really have time to play such games--”

“Games are all we have time for.” Daemon chuckled and patted Balthazar’s shoulder, which had him looking almost mollified. “Besides, sometimes how we gain such information is even more important than the information itself.”

“I can’t see how,” Balthazar sulked.

“I know. But you will,” Daemon answered with a smile. His gaze slid to Ryder. “Grayson will be staying in the Ever Dark as a student of the academy.”

Ryder blinked. He held himself still and tall so he didn’t shrink from that red-eyed stare. Daemon saw so much more than the surface. And the power he exuded made Ryder want to submit. But talking about Grayson made him hold his ground.

“Then I will meet him when it is time to bring him to the school,” Ryder said.

Balthazar lifted an eyebrow. “You’re telling us that you--”

But Daemon lifted a hand and Balthazar was silenced. “Yes, you should finish what you started and get Grayson to where he is supposed to be.  But I would see about your wounds and your clothing before that.”

Daemon dipped his head towards Ryder’s still burned chest. He nodded.

“May we have your leave to attend to these things, King Daemon?” Ryder asked, remembering himself this time.

“You may.” Daemon inclined his head again. 

Both Ryder and Demos bowed to the three Immortals. It was a little stiffly done, but it was the honor their positions were due. It was hard though for Weryn to bow to anyone but their direct leaders. 

It is hard to bow to Lawson? Knowing what you know? Feeling how you feel? Thinking how you think? Daemon’s mind was like a faint breeze and then gone. 

Demos and Ryder left Caemorn’s rooms and headed back the way they had been brought in. Ryder sought out Grayson’s heartbeat for a moment, but then he stopped himself. He could not allow the strange craving the boy created in him overwhelm him again when he actually needed blood. So he pulled his senses in tight to himself. He knew that Balthazar and Caemorn would honor their word as they had made it to King Daemon, and Grayson would be his to protect. At least for a little while.

“Are you going to tell me what happened in there with King Daemon?” Demos asked out of the corner of his mouth.

“No,” Ryder answered too quickly. He saw the flash of hurt on Demos’ handsome face and grimace. “Not right now.”

Demos and Lawson’s relationship was already rocky. He had always known that but now he saw it far more clearly. What had kept the two of them from going at each other’s throats was Ryder.  If Ryder told him what Daemon had shown him--what Ryder had thought and felt in response--he wasn’t sure what Demos would do. Or maybe he did know. But he had to keep the peace. Lawson, for better or worse, was their leader.

For now, a voice whispered in his head.

“Are we going to keep Grayson a secret from Lawson?” Demos asked, and his expression was unreadable. He would go with whatever Ryder wanted to do.

But Ryder didn’t even have to think as he answered, “Yes. We’re not letting Lawson anywhere near Grayson.”

Demos lifted an eyebrow at him. He saw a million questions in his Blood Brother’s eyes. But something in his own must have answered them at least enough that Demos wasn’t going to ask him to elaborate.

“We keep Grayson and everything else,” Ryder said with quiet determination, “to ourselves.”