The Tale of Two Killers, page 32
The entire time he prepared the blood bottle for Jeremiah, the baby kept crying, and even without being an expert when it came to figuring out what exactly each cry meant, Demiesius couldn’t help but think this one was different from all the others. With the tears shedding down his son’s face, this cry began to sound more agonized than anything, as if he were letting out an internal sorrow only he could feel.
When the bottle was ready, Demiesius tried to feed him, but Jeremiah turned from the nutrition and continued his lament.
“What is it?” the elder asked, knowing he wouldn’t get a proper response. There had to be some way for him to stop crying, but with being unable to find this source, Demiesius felt utterly powerless.
He caught the time on the grandfather clock in the entrance way of the foyer, wondering when Hamilton would be done with his duties so he could come home. Demiesius had a meeting with the Councilors scheduled for tonight, and he couldn’t afford to miss it. This was the night Hamilton’s C.C. replacement would be chosen to partner with Christoph, so he needed to be there to oversee the induction.
Calling upon Dominick through their telepathic connection, Demiesius ordered the blood child to his home as fast as he could make it. A minute later, Dominick showed up on his doorstep in black trousers and a violet wine shirt. His long mane of black hair was still a little muddled, and by the look in his dark colored eyes, the elder could see he was quite tired still.
Dominick winced when he entered the front area of the castle, covering his ears as the strident ring of Jeremiah’s distress vibrated the air around him. “What the hell is wrong with that kid?” he protested. “Please, make him stop!”
Demiesius looked down at the hollering baby in his arms, touching a hand to the top of Jeremiah’s blond and black hair. Curious if it would work, he reached into the baby’s mind with his thoughts, twisting a sense of assurance into the small boy in hopes it would be enough to settle him down. He forged a wall of serenity inside Jeremiah, and when the tiny boy finally stopped crying, Demiesius wiped away the tears on his reddened cheeks. “I need you to watch him for me,” he said to Dominick. “Just for an hour or so, or until Hamilton makes it home before me.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Dominick laughed. “Father, I am not fit to be a nanny.”
“Dominick,” Demiesius asserted, “You’re the closest person I would trust with him right now. It won’t be for long.”
Dominick grumbled under his breath as Demiesius handed him the baby, Jeremiah’s newly calmed gray eyes looking at him. He held the boy out in front of him, weirded out by the cloudy look in the baby’s eyes. “What would my coven think of me babysitting? This is ridiculous, father.”
“Stop complaining,” Demiesius said, buttoning the remainder of his shirt. “And don’t hold him like that.”
“Can he walk yet?”
Almost reconsidering leaving his blood child with Jeremiah for even a minute, the elder wished Hamilton would hurry with the duty he was handling for the Public and come home. He wondered if his husband would have a heart attack knowing Dominick was alone with their child. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and apparently that measure was going to be Dominick von Kraige tonight. “If he’s not in one piece by the time I get back,” Demiesius warned, “you will be in pieces. Do I make myself clear?”
Dominick rolled his eyes, “Yes, father…”
When Demiesius then disappeared into a formation of shadows that closed around him, Dominick looked down at the baby in his arms. Jeremiah smiled happily up at him with a toothless smile, letting out a giggle when the blood child raised a brow at him. “Can you try to grow up a little faster?” Dominick said. “We’d have a lot more fun if you were at least…five or something.”
***
Demiesius reached the European Public Council Gathering and stepped out of his encasement of shadow. He’d materialized in the center point of the room, the other four elders already in their seats at the front, and the C.C. vampires were standing against the semicircular wall off to the side.
The Public Councilors, Homer, Jamison and Richard were seated atop their podiums as well, and while the slayers who’d been previously partnered with vampires early on stood off to the side, there was one who hadn’t joined the gathering yet.
“Good evening, Elder Demiesius,” the Councilors greeted. “We are glad you could make it tonight. Please, have a seat.”
The immortal neared his placement at the elder’s table, receiving nods from each of the vampires in the C.C. before taking his seat between Bethania and Minerva.
For about two hours, everyone discussed the topic of a man named Luis Dalca. He was a thirty-year-old man who was born and raised in Romania, introduced to the Slayer Public at the age of ten since his father had been in it before him. He was being chosen as Hamilton’s replacement, and if everyone in the gathering approved of his background, Christoph would have another person to call his partner.
While they were in the middle of deliberating Luis Dalca’s experience, everyone in the room became quiet when the tall double doors to the room opened. A blond-haired boy who looked no older than seventeen or eighteen walked in, his legs seeming to drag behind him as he lugged himself further.
Samuel Colebrook.
His movements were lagging, cuts and bruises littering his arms, the stench of blood hanging in the air. His slayer attire was torn all over, and the weaponry lined along his belt was still touched with blood. The C.C. vampires in the room tensed up at the sight of a foreign slayer, worrying suddenly if he’d entered here to make any moves. No one who didn’t know about the underground relationship between vampires and slayers was allowed inside.
Limping severely to the middle of the gathering, all eyes were on Samuel. He looked worn, beaten, as if he’d just finished brawling a pack of skilled fighters only minutes ago. He looked half dead already.
“Mister Colebrook,” Councilor Richard narrowed his curious eyes, “What is the meaning of this?”
Demiesius remembered the surname and wondered if this was the same Colebrook that his husband had come to see some hours ago. He could acutely hear the boy speaking softly under his breath, and when the elder listened closer, his throat tightened when he heard the boy say, “They killed him. There was so much — so much blood.”
“Samuel, speak up,” Councilor Jamison commanded him. “You are intruding on a private meeting. What has happened?”
“How could they…?” Samuel asked.
Demiesius rutted his dark brow at the quiet mutters coming from the boy, nervousness coming over him like a quick storm arriving over an unsuspecting city.
“Hamilton,” he finally spoke so the entire room could hear. “He is dead.”
Each elder at the table looked towards Demiesius in that second, fearful of what their brother would do when those words left that boy’s mouth.
“So much blood. There was so much.”
Demiesius stood from his seat, stepping in front of Samuel faster than the human eye could follow. “What did you just say?” he demanded. “Repeat yourself, boy.”
The young slayer didn’t flinch for a second, clearly far too traumatized that he began to separate from his slayer dispositions. “Hamilton is dead,” he said shakily once more. “I — I tried, but they were…” Samuel stepped forward, losing consciousness against the elder’s chest before the strength in his knees gave out.
Not about to lose the only source of information he had, Demiesius grabbed the boy by his wrist and broke the bones inside. Samuel shot back into consciousness, screaming in agony as he clutched his now stinging wrist to his chest.
“Demiesius, calm yourself this second!”
The elder looked back at the podiums in which the Councilors were seated, his intense gaze striking uneasiness into the three old men. “You so much as think a command against me,” Demiesius threatened, “And I will tear this boy apart before your very eyes.”
At the warning, all of the C.C. slayers on the opposite side of the room stepped forward, each of them looking ready to police any actions taken against their leaders. And just when the slayers stepped forward, so did the vampires, fangs and claws ready for the attack. Even though each of them had been partners bound by the Coalition only seconds ago, they were all ready to stand up for their kind.
Demiesius tossed Samuel to the hard stone ground, “What happened to Hamilton?!”
“He’s dead!” Samuel screamed out, hugging his wrist as he curled up on his side. “Kingston and Julius, they tricked him into thinking Julius was about to kill as many London vampires as he could.” He was sobbing uncontrollably, drowning in his own tears as the remembrance left his mouth. “When we got there, Kingston stabbed him to weaken him. Julius — he fought Hamilton to the death and then they tried to kill me.”
Could all of this be true? Demiesius took a step back from the crying teenager. Could mere boys have taken the love of his life from his side? No, Hamilton…he was too strong for something like that to happen.
“Where is he?” the elder growled.
“I don’t remember…” Samuel sniveled.
“WHERE?!”
“I don’t know!” The boy trembled with horrid memories of the night. “It was too far. I can’t remember the exact location!”
Demiesius turned his back on Samuel and switched his crimson glassed eyes to the Councilors, his rage directed at Jamison more than the other two. “You sent him to those bastards. Hamilton should not have been the one to deal with your slayer problem. He was out of commission!” Shaking inside in uncertainty and aggravation, Demiesius almost couldn’t control himself from letting go of all the words and rage he’d put aside to retain the peace between his people and humans. How could he, if humans couldn’t even level with their own kind?
He didn’t want to believe that his husband was dead, killed by the traitorous motives of his former students, but by listening to the grief in Samuel and seeing the boy so battered, the truth was lying directly at his feet.
“I won’t be a part of this any longer,” Demiesius asserted. “As of this night I will not associate with the Public in any manner. Anyone who stands in my way from here on will die at my hands. I do not care how many slayers, how many humans stand before me, if you interfere with my search for Hamilton, for these murderers, I will tear each and every one of you bloody mortals from this fucking world!”
Two Coalition slayers withdrew stakes from holsters on their boots, “Not if you die tonight, vermin!” one of them shouted and they darted for the elder.
Everything in the gathering suddenly turned upside down, the once aligned immortals and slayers now fighting against each other. As the mutual hatred filled the atmosphere, blood spilling across the floor in thick red puddles, Demiesius grabbed Samuel by the back of his shirt and dragged him out of the room. As he descended the narrow walkway, the other elders joined him, Bethania in shock after what she’d witnessed; centuries of underground cooperation between life and death thrown away for a mere broken heart.
“I hope you know there is no turning back from this,” she said, the skirt of her black gown flowing as she walked to keep up with her brother’s pace. “We won’t be able to mend an alliance after the bloodbath taking place tonight.”
Minerva, the sixteen-year-old-looking girl shrugged, “I’m actually glad we’re finally out of that alliance. It was such a waste of time.”
Eros and Nabadias strode behind them all, not caring for the detachment either. Given Demiesius had thought this whole alliance up in the first place, and he was the one tossing it aside after all this time, the other elders weren’t too affected by it. Bethania even shrugged it off when it seemed this was how things were going to go now.
Drenched in shadow, they all disappeared into shrouds of darkness, Demiesius bringing Samuel along as well when they reappeared inside the property of Dominick’s coven.
Entering the manor, Demiesius tossed Samuel to a female vampire dressed in nothing but a white bra and a pair of small underwear that’d been coming out of a nearby room. She was stunned to find all the elders here without a word of notice, and when she caught the suffering boy against her, she looked down at him in pure confusion.
“Heal that boy,” Demiesius ordered. “I’ll need him for later.”
One by one, every immortal resident of the von Kraige coven emerged from what they were doing, everyone coming together on the first floor for an announcement they anticipated.
When Demiesius was sure every vampire was standing before him, he said, “To those who were unaware, I forged an alliance with leaders of the Slayer Public long before all of you were ever risen into the vampire life. I did so thinking it would decrease the amount of blood spilled by our kind, but as of now, I no longer care for the union I once made, for tonight I was informed that Hamilton was murdered by his own students for a reason I’m sure had to do with his relationship with me. I want to find those boys who took him from me, and I want them to suffer for what they have done. My question is, who here wishes to assist me in that quest?”
After only a few seconds, the entire household took to a knee, lowering their heads in respect for their elder. If Demiesius didn’t find any sign of Hamilton or the boys who’d killed him, the immortal knew he would never be able to feel peace within his heart ever again.
Chapter XXX
The Unfortunate Events of 1973
Samuel couldn’t keep himself from thinking the worst as he sat still. He was a vampire slayer surrounded by vampires, and while not one of them had made a move to harm him, he thought it impossible to imagine himself walking out of this place alive. The near nude woman who he’d been thrown to upon arrival was beside him on a black and ivory Victorian sofa. She’d ordered him to take off his shirt, and while he’d been reluctant to do so, she’d promised that no harm would come to him so long as he didn’t do anything “funny”. So here he was, shirtless beside a half-naked vampire.
After piercing her index finger with the point of her elongated fangs, she’d run streaks of her own blood against each of his wounds. In amazement, Samuel watched as she healed him of the scars Julius and Kingston had given him earlier in the night, almost thankful his wounds would no longer be the death of him. Even still, he couldn’t escape the idea that these vampires would likely kill him the second they found his presence useless.
He could still envision almost everything that’d happened tonight, and his heart was bruised after the sight of such a brutal event that’d taken place against someone he’d respected so much. He didn’t care if Julius was right about Hamilton falling in love with a vampire. It wasn’t like their former instructor was out there killing his own kind. That was where Samuel would have drawn the line, but Hamilton was a gentle man. Even with his previous reign of being the strongest, deadliest, and most skilled vampire slayer on the face of the earth, he was still someone who had enough heart to care. Samuel might not have known everything about his teacher, but if there was one thing he did know, it was that Hamilton hadn’t deserved to meet such an end.
When the woman at his side healed the final scar on the side of his rib cage, she smiled kindly at him with her fangs still protruding from her gums. “There, all better. You’re as good as new.”
Samuel rolled his wrist, feeling his bones rotate without any stings from when Demiesius had broken it. Swallowing anxiously, the boy tugged on the long sleeved, black leather breasted shirt he’d been wearing, the piece of clothing still torn here and there and carrying the scent of his blood. “Am I free to go now?” he asked.
Before the woman could answer him, Demiesius stepped through the threshold of the room.
Samuel felt his entire body tense up at the sight of the glaring vampire. He couldn’t explain why, but this one…he was different from the others he’d come across in his few years as a member of the Public. This man gave off a profuse aura that recited just how strong he was, and Samuel wanted nothing to do with him. Just the solid black scowl in his eyes caused the boy to clench up inside to make sure he didn’t piss his pants.
“You’re sadly mistaken,” Demiesius said, his voice noting every bit of unadulterated anger in his being, “if you think I’m going to let you walk out that door without the answers I’m in search of.” He switched his gaze to the vampire woman sitting beside the boy, “Leave us.”
With a bow of her head after standing, the woman was gone, and Samuel was alone.
Demiesius stalked into the sitting area, his coal-colored eyes never leaving the shivering slayer sitting down across the room. Nothing but fear radiated from Samuel, and when the elder slipped into the boy’s thoughts, they were occupied with quiet pleas to be with his mother.
“Tell me what I want to know,” Demiesius said, “and I will make certain no harm comes to you. Refuse to give me what I want, and every vampire inside this manor will find pleasure in sucking the life from your veins.”
Samuel was quiet and when his scared eyes looked towards the doorway, he spotted a handful of protective vampires blocking the entrance. Even if he could provide Demiesius with what he wanted, the boy was almost sure he wouldn’t make it out of this house alive.
“Hamilton,” Demiesius started, “Where is he?”
Is this him? Samuel wondered. This had to be the vampire Hamilton had fallen in love with. “I really can’t remember,” he answered, “I wasn’t paying too much attention to where we were going, and when I was coming back, I could hardly focus when I was driving. Honest. I almost got into three wrecks on my way to the Councilors.”
“Don’t make me carve into your mind to find what I’m looking for,” Demiesius warned. “It is very unpleasant for humans to have a vampire burrowing into their memories.”
“You don’t want to do that,” Samuel shook his head frantically. “You don’t want to see what I witnessed out there. It’ll drive you mad.”
