Authors: Morris Fenris,Jasmine Bowen
“No, it’s been different all day. Please. Is there a way?”
“I — uh …” Rosa was giving him a death glare, but he couldn’t leave his brother alone when he was clearly so panicked. Sitting up, he reached for his own phone, a Blackberry that was unfamiliar to Arthur and scrolled to Dr. Hever’s pager. “Call that number. A lady will ask you to leave a message. Do so, hang up and wait until he calls back.”
“How long?
Why can’t he answer?”
“Because
… Arthur, you just need to do it,” Gregory said, at last. “It’s the best solution.”
Arthur
nodded, taking the phone.
“And
Arthur?” Gregory asked, kindly.
“
Hmm?”
“Not in here. Wake me if anything is
amiss.”
“Don’t wake me!”
Rosa called to his retreating back and settled back down into her pillows. “Jesus Christ. He’s going to need medication for panic attacks the way he’s going.”
“He needed to find out sooner or later,”
Gregory said, mournfully, wrapping his arms around her.
“Find out what? That we were sleeping together?
” Rosa gave him a funny look.
“Find out that she’s dying
faster than we think. I suspect the worse.”
Rosa
raised an eyebrow.
“
Well, this is going to be a fun week.”
“Indeed,”
Gregory replied, kissing her forehead. “I’m glad you live, my dear, past mortality.” It was the closest thing to a love confession he would make and that she would accept. They lay back down, although neither slept, waiting for the inevitable cry that came when Dr. Hever called back.
Annalise
was dying, and Arthur was 3000 miles away.
Chapter 7
"No, I will not speak to you!"
Gregory stood in the kitchen, alerted by a crash that came from the living room mere hours after the call about Annalise had come in. Arthur had sat in silence for nearly three hours, almost comatose, and he advised his brothers to leave him alone. If Arthur wanted to deal with grief in his own private way, than they should give him that honor. But now, it sounded like he was breaking up half the living room.
Gregory put down the dish he was washing with force, and rushed into the living room just in time to see
Arthur hurl a 2nd century old vase at Knox. His middle brother ducked, not daunted, but he did look bothered.
"What the hell did you do?" Gregory growled at
Knox, who shrugged.
"I just asked if he wanted to go out for a drink, get his mind off his dying human."
"Tactful," Gregory replied, rolling his eyes and grabbing Arthur's arm before he could throw something else at the offending brother. "Stop! Stop it now! This isn't the way for a prince to behave!"
"Then be merciful, O
King," Arthur replied, although there was little respect in his tone. "Let me go to her!"
"No," Gregory answered firmly, not releasing his grip. "Our agreement with the
Hevers was that once Annalise was returned, we would steer clear. Those are their wishes, however unsympathetic they are."
"And you are
king, so why are the rules applying?”
“Because,”
Gregory gritted his teeth. “I will not be the type of ruler who is considered a tyrant. The vampire world is too large to lose respect, Arthur, and if you had any logic in your head right now, you would remember that, as a proper regent. But instead, your head is clouded with mortal love.”
Those words made everyone’s jaw drop.
Gregory had never spoken to Arthur that way, ever. Arthur, at the least, before he became depressed and so hateful of his own kind, was Gregory’s regent. But more than that, he was his confidant, his best friend, his co-conspirator. Just eleven months younger, it was Arthur that Gregory would turn to for advice, for confirmation on everything. Together, they not only ruled the vampire world, they also kept their younger siblings in check. Gregory once trusted Arthur with everything, and would have no doubt his Irish twin brother would succeed. They were always together, always muttering to each other, always exchanging looks. But now, for the first time in 1000 years, it was clear that doubt played a huge part in their relationship.
The weight of the crown was heavy on
Gregory’s head - that much was clear. And Arthur was never one to skirt duty. Of all his siblings, he was probably the one who most adhered to the rules. At least until now.
Arthur
snarled at his brother.
“And you’re one to talk,
Gregory, carrying on with a common harlot!”
This made
Gregory clamp down his fists, fighting every urge not to hit him. Their father had been violent, and he had made a pledge to never be like his father. But sometimes his brothers tried his patience.
“My relationship with
Rosa does not cloud my judgment, Arthur.”
“A
Guard?” Arthur snarled. “A Guard, the natural enemy of the vampires, and the Queen Guard at that. Everyone knows you tremble when you do not get your fix of being human. Everyone knows the seductive witch has cast her spell over you. And instead of snapping her neck for her multiple betrayals to you, you have promised her immortality! A Guard! Immortality when death is not a punishment!”
“
Arthur!” Gregory barked. “Is that what this is about? Annalise’s descent to death? Have you two made some sort of sick suicide pact?”
Arthur
’s rage got the better of him and he knocked a lamp off the table smashing it into a million tiny pieces.
“The boy who controls her, this
Tony Whitlock, is too much of an idiot to respect her wishes. She fears he will turn from her as she slips from life, and that’s not what she wants. She wants to go in peace! If only such a gift could be granted to me, that would indeed be a lovely Christmas!”
Gregory
shook his head.
“Those are the wishes of the
Hevers. We do not control the human. She belongs to them. I will hear no more of this.”
“Indeed, you will not!”
Arthur slammed out of the room, making sure everything in his path was hurled to the ground. Doors were slammed, statues broken, tables were kicked. His vampire strength flooded through his veins the further he got away from that damnable shield.
The sunlight made him blink, but contrary to popular legend, he did not begin to burn up. Instead, for the first time since his awakening, he felt
ravenous with hunger.
He pushed call on his phone and brought it to his ear, listening to the ringing that was endless before voice mail picked up
.
“Hi, this is
Annalise, leave a message. And Merry Christmas.”
“
Annalise, love. I fear the monster will overtake the man.”
Arthur
stormed down the sidewalk, feeling his fangs grow into his mouth and his eyes darken. The law of vampires was not to expose themselves to humans, but they would never be able to tell if they were dead.
Arthur
first came into a grocery store parking lot, filled with people, hustling to and from the store with bags in hand. There was music pouring into the lot, tunes he had heard before.
Christmas music
he thought, remembering Annalise’s smile as she told him that the same tunes would be repeated over and over during the season.
His eyes scanned the lot until he fell on one, a middle aged man, walking to the car with a single bag, and smoking a cigarette.
Cigarettes will kill,
Annalise’s voice said in his head.
Smokers have a death wish
.
“Welcome to your death,”
Arthur muttered, and with vampire speed, had the man against the wall on the side of the mall, backed onto a wooded area. Before he could even scream, Arthur’s teeth were in his neck, and he sucked sweet blood from his veins.
It had been so long since he had eaten properly that he gorged himself, nearly draining the man dry, his hand over
the man’s mouth to avoid the screams. When he raised his face, dropping the body, it was smeared with blood.
It was the first of
Arthur’s many victims. The blood cravings only increased as his spree continued. He didn’t feel full, didn’t feel satisfied. It was like 900 years of sleeping was finally catching up to him, and he could eat the whole world.
He left half drained bodies in parking lots, in hallways, in backyards. Mortals were so fragile and so close to death with every breath they took, it was easy. And their fear of death was so bizarre to him.
“There’s another life after this one,” he whispered in the ear of one victim. “Another life and it is so sweet.”
And then their limp bodies were on the floor.
He called her again and again, frantic in his calling, the voice mail picking up without fail. Each time he left a message, although he suspected they were beginning to make no sense. He felt drunk with blood, his words slurred, sometimes not in English. He wanted her to know what he was doing, every moment, every observation, as if she were here.
“It’s so strange that you spend so much for money for a holiday, when no one wants this junk,” he said, on the
sixth message. “I just want one thing, and I can’t have it.”
He didn’t know how many he drained of blood, how many he left alive and how many he killed
outright. He felt like he was seeing through blood, his eyes clouded, only seeing that pulsing vein in the neck. Mortal humans, why did they fear death so much?
He didn’t think he had ever eaten so much as a vampire. His heart felt like it
would burst from his chest, and everything he touched was covered in blood.
When he came upon a group of three
vampires feeding on their own kill in the woods, he raised himself up to full height.
“The best cuts of meat go to the prince,” he said, speaking slowly and clearly. It had been so long since he had been a true prince. Saying it felt wonderful and yet
foreign.
Slowly, the vampires turned to him, looking him up and down. They looked doubtful, but found themselves forced into a bow. Since all vampires were created from them, it was built
into their blood to worship them and obey, even if they fought against it.
“Sire, forgive me, I’ve never seen your face,” one said, a girl who couldn’t have been older than 16. But the way she spoke showed that she was clearly centuries old, and it made
Arthur grimace. This girl reminded him of Annalise, but she was frozen in time, forever, never able to move on, to grow up.
“I am
Arthur,” he said, slowly. “The Crown Prince, the regent.”
They glanced at each other and then stared at him agape. He took a step forward and they trembled
as his mouth formed into a fearsome grin. This was what he was missing, this was what it was like to be a prince, a real one, ruling over all of them. He was superior and why should they not listen to him? Just as the Hevers should bow to Gregory’s rule, just as he should enforce it.
And then he felt his limbs grow weak, and the cravings begin to die. His fangs
receded without warning, and he froze.
Was 900 years in Torpor taking
its toll?
“Enough. Avert your eyes.”
The quiet voice of his brother filled the forest, with such power and such control. Arthur spun around, half in shock and half in confusion. Standing beside Gregory was Rosa, the sun beating down on her red hair, her high heeled boots sinking into the forest. She was looking straight at him, directing the power of the Guards to weaken him. The feeling of being human began to creep up, taking him from the inside out.
And like
Annalise, there was nothing he could do about it. He hated this Guard, hated her since the moment he saw her, but at the moment, now, he was grateful. The rage that clouded his judgment was receding. He felt in control again and less like a monster, and because of it, he hated himself just a little less. Perhaps this was why Gregory was so addicted to her; to this feeling. With her by his side, it was possible to be a fair and just king. A king not ruled by blood lust, by beating hearts. A king who could make rational choices. All of the perks of immortality with none of the downfalls. Perhaps Guards and vampires should have united quite awhile ago.
He wiped his mouth of the blood, his hand beginning to tremble. What had he done? Who had he become?
“Come, Arthur,” Rosa’s hand closed over his wrist and he felt as weak as a kitten. He opened and closed his mouth, but no words came out. Instead, he looked to Gregory, who was surveying the damage and the three frightened vampires, who trembled even more in the presence of their king.
“
Gregory …” he managed at last, but his brother shook his head. “Go with Rosa. Do not leave the house. Do nothing until I’ve returned.”