Aleron: Book One of Strigoi Series (Stringoi Series) (11 page)

CHAPTER 8

desperately tried to understand the rest of the writing. When I turned the page, I recognized Mynea’s handwriting, also in the unfamiliar language. I turned to the next page, where I noticed that tiny blood vessels littered the leaves. What poor soul or souls contributed to this tome? Page after page I searched for something, anything I could readily understand. Only the name Vlad was recognizable, nothing more.

Eliza had found the strength to sit up on the bed, and she was looking at me.

“Is this your book?”

“No, my lord. It belongs to my lady.”

“Can you read it?”

“No, I cannot.”

“Then why is it here next to your bed?”

“It was the only book in my lady’s library I couldn’t read, my lord. I’ve been trying to determine what language it’s written in.”

“What have you found?”

“It’s not any language of this region. That’s all I’m able to determine, my lord.” She shook her head slowly. “I’ve seen my lady write in this journal many times. She’s had it since she enslaved me. I never dared to inquire about it, and when I thought of it, she would command me to do various things. I’ve cared for my lady for decades, and at least twice every seven days I would see her writing in it.”

“If it’s Mynea’s journal, then why is it in your room beside your bed?”

“My lady left hastily. She must have forgotten it. For every other time she left the castle for more than one night, she would take it with her. This time she didn’t.”

“Why is it in your room?” I repeated.

“I was intrigued by it. For years I’ve been reading the books within my lady’s library; however, the opportunity to read the one I was most interested in never presented itself, until now. Since the first time I saw it, I wondered what was within its pages. On one occasion my lady caught me with it and punished me for trying to read it.” She finished her sentence with her head down and eyes closed. The memory was apparently particularly painful for her to bear.

Just as she began to describe it, a vision entered her mind, which depicted Mynea lashing her within the very same room in which I was born. She was left lying in the fetal position, while her blood found its way into the tiny imperfections that riddled the stone floor. Punished indeed.

“The discipline only baited me more. I was given permission to continue reading the other books, but I wasn’t to read this one. Like a child, I couldn’t resist. When I realized she had left it, my disobedience overtook me. For this, I’m truly ashamed.” She spoke softly, as tears filled her eyes.

I couldn’t help but feel answers to long-unasked questions would be revealed within the pages of this strange book, especially where Mynea had gone and when she would return. More pain entered my heart as I silently called out to Mynea yet again. Again, I heard nothing.

Eliza placed her hand on my face in an effort to soothe me. I found myself wanting her warm touch. I instinctively pressed my face against
her palm and closed my eyes. I could only think of Mynea’s touch when I heard her words from Eliza’s mouth.

“Your thoughts are heavy, my lord. May I suggest you go out and feed?” The last part Eliza spoke very softly.

Mynea’s words were spoken by this beautiful yet mortal creature. Even after my ruse earlier, threatening her life, Eliza was still genuinely concerned for me. She always had been. However, the pain in my stomach and the loss I felt nullified the desire to hunt. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to do anything. For the first time in decades, the blood thirst subsided. “Not tonight, Eliza.”

With Mynea’s journal in hand, I turned to exit Eliza’s bedchamber. She motioned to say something but chose to let the moment be mine and remained silent. I strode into the hall. I had frequented this hall hundreds, maybe even thousands of times, yet this time it seemed much longer and narrower, almost constricting. My heart pounded, and the knot in my stomach grew. Though I hoped for Mynea’s swift return, deep down I expected otherwise. I was devastated.

I steeled my legs and proceeded down the stairs to Mynea’s private room. It was one of the few rooms I’d never been in. I stared at the enormous stone door. I could’ve entered, but I didn’t. I wanted the room left exactly as she had left it, undisturbed. I guess I was still hoping she would return.

I placed my hand on the door, thinking that maybe by touching it I would somehow feel her. This room was as sacred to her as she was to me. But, alas, there was no sense of Mynea.

I continued down to the lowest part of the castle, where I often went to think, to occasionally relive memories, and to try to forget those whom I loved as a mortal. However, that night wouldn’t be filled with thoughts of my former life. That night was consumed with torment and despair, full of loneliness and heartache.

I entered the dungeon, my chamber, the place where I awoke that fateful night long ago. This cell was my link to the world of light, the world I left and have tried to forget. No one disturbed me in this room. It was my salvation. Though vampires often enjoy the company of other vampires, we’re generally solitary creatures. I understood this many
years later with the help of another, one who shall stay in the shadows for now.

I lay on the cold, wet stone floor. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to dream. I wanted to see her. I needed to feel her. I hugged myself as I had earlier that night with one difference, I held the book close to my heart. And though the moon was still awake, I drifted off.

During my slumber, I remembered Mynea. When I would wake up, I would place the journal on my chest, lie with my hands behind my head, and stare into the darkness. My blood thirst remained a distant second to my longing for Mynea. Though I felt weak, I had little desire to hunt. Several months passed, the longest I had ever gone without blood. Every once in a while Eliza would call out to me. The frequency of her calls increased as the days passed, though her voice began to wane. I could sense that she was weakening as the blood I gave her lost its strength. She didn’t call for another feeding. She called out to me for the same reason I was in the deepest and darkest part of the castle—loneliness.

Her own bloodlust was secondary, as was my own. I summoned Eliza silently to come to me and drink. She did so. She drank only enough to replenish her strength and maintain her youth, though she sucked a little more fervently than before. Eliza’s feedings were the only times when Mynea’s journal wasn’t touching my heart. But I always kept it in my grasp.

Eliza would return to her quarters even though her thoughts revealed her desire to lie with me. I wouldn’t permit that to happen, for I wanted to wait until my queen returned so I would be unspoiled to her touch, even if it meant restraining myself from Eliza’s radiant beauty.

I passed the months paging through the diary, staring at its pages, burning the tiny symbols of the unknown language into my memory. I inhaled the odor of its pages and binding, the sweet scent of Mynea’s hair. Though I couldn’t understand the words, the book nevertheless provided me with solace.

Eleven months later the blood hunger returned, rivaling the first time I felt its call. It wouldn’t be ignored again. Slowly, I stood. My muscles were feeble. I wearily walked up the stairs to the main level. My legs shook with every step. I used the wall for support. Eliza must have heard my moaning, for she appeared at the top of the stairs.

“My lord,” she stammered, shocked to see me in such a weakened state. The concern in her voice was genuine. And though I heard every word, the sound of her heartbeat muffled everything else.

I looked up at her. The thirst had returned with a vengeance. I could feel my flesh wanting her, needing her blood. Eliza must have misunderstood the desire in my eyes, for she proceeded to walk toward me—or perhaps, she understood. She took me into her arms and aided me up the stairs. It took tremendous strength and every ounce of my concentration not to sink my teeth into her. How excruciating it was to hold back! I wanted to devour her! Just as the thirst began to overtake all reasoning, she raised her wrist to my mouth and said, “Drink, my love. Drink.” I couldn’t believe my ears. Nevertheless, I drank.

The blood flooded me with immediate satisfaction, each drop fueling the fire of my desire, every swallow a testament to the very fabric of life that holds us all. I grew stronger by the second. Eliza’s memories swam around in my head. I faintly heard her speak, “Please, Aleron, stop.”

I did. She withdrew her arm and collapsed into my body. I carried her to Mynea’s bedchamber and gently laid her on the fur. The sight of her lying there eerily reminded me of the night after Mynea left, months ago. But this time, I didn’t drain her to the brink of death. She kissed me on my lips, but I didn’t return the kiss. The dominant part of me wanted to, the part that needed more blood.

In the moments before I spoke, I realized a change had occurred within my caretaker. For the first time since I’d known her, Eliza called me by my first name.

“I will return, Eliza. For the night is calling out to me, and I must answer.”

“Please return swiftly, my lord. I will be waiting.”

Eliza had a familiar look in her eyes, one that I hadn’t seen for years
and had never witnessed from this host. It was passion once displayed by Mynea. I welcomed the stare.

At once, I left the castle and flew into the night.

CHAPTER 9

moved swiftly through the trees and brush until a vile odor caught my attention. I followed the foul smell through the shadows until I saw a human slumped over at the base of a rotting tree. He was panting for air while blood flowed freely from his abdomen. I could hear his heart fainting as his chest rose and fell to an abnormal rhythm. I dared to relieve him of his misery.