Fire, Chapter 4 --PG-13

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librarian_7
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Fire, Chapter 4 --PG-13

Post by librarian_7 »

Standard disclaimers apply.

No spoilers here.

This story is rated PG-13 for relatively mild violence and sex.

This story follows the events of “Control.”



Fire

Chapter 4

Halfway down the long stone corridor Josef caught his first indication of something wrong, and stopped dead in his tracks, going completely still, all his senses stretching forward. He could hear little through the thick gray walls, but his nose told him a different story. There was a distinct scent in the air. Blood, but not the delicious aroma of flowing life that he loved. This was bitter, wrong, but not completely unfamiliar.

Vampire blood.

He considered his next action. The most prudent course might be to turn and leave. The stink of spilled—fatally spilled—vampire blood crawled down his throat and called to mind images and memories from his fledgling days that were best left buried. Unfortunately, he thought, his mouth twisting in a grimace, that same early training had burned away any remnants of prudence in favor of bold action. “Fortune favors the cruel,” his sire had told him. “The strong, the brave, and the intelligent. If you fail in any of these qualities, this world will not long be graced with your beauty.” Turning and running was not in either his nature or his training, although that did not mean he was not cognizant of the dangers.

Part of that training had been learning to breathe consistently in a human fashion. As contained and impregnable as his sire’s fortress had been, Josef had always known that eventually, like any fledgling, he would have to leave the nest. And while he had left eagerly, voluntarily, standing here now in this blood-scented corridor, he allowed himself a momentary yearning for the certainty he had known there. And yet, he feared the ancient familiarity of his present surroundings. The worst of his past, combined with the unknown elements of a strange place. He had stopped breathing, the better to listen, but now he began the motions again, the careful rise and fall of a silent chest.

He loosened his sword in its scabbard and moved forward with the tension of a stalking panther. The swords might be largely ceremonial in this age, but they were still weapons, and still useful. The grace of his controlled strides measured the length of the hallway, carrying him toward the council chamber. He paused at the doorway.

The heavy, iron-bound oak door of the council chamber yielded at his touch, swinging open noiselessly on well-oiled hinges.

The chamber was the same, cold, unchanging, but the scene was like some strange tableaux from Dante’s Inferno. Lady Elaine once again occupied the central chair of the dais, but the other two stood empty. And instead of the chill perfection of clothing and demeanor she had displayed before, the vampire lady of London, clad in rumpled lace and linen that foamed around her like sea-wrack, cradled in her lap a severed head that had left long darkening streaks of blood across her skirts. Her hair was disorderd and wild, her eyes swollen and red with grief.

She was not alone. Behind her shoulder, Thomas Corn perched like a bird of ill-omen, his somber garb in contrast to her pale wrappings. His hand rested intimately on her shoulder as he leaned in to whisper in her ear. Tonight his thick auburn hair hung loosely around his shoulders, framing his face with more beauty than Josef had remembered.

Lady Elaine moved a red-stained hand, softly caressing the forehead of the grisly object in her lap, murmuring to it as she smoothed the dark hair carefully back from the distorted face. Josef realized she was singing a lullaby, crooning simple words of rest and sleep and peace to this battle trophy.

His mouth twisted in distaste, very briefly, before he recovered his mask of mild disinterest. While he rather thought the threat to life and death portion of the evenings entertainment had already passed, one never knew, and it was wise to conceal all emotion beneath a prudent disguise.

They had noticed him at last, Lady Elaine raising her gaze from the head in her lap. Josef noted the wild light in her eyes. Her mind, he realized, was as disordered as her dress. Thomas Corn, on the other hand, looked as coldly sane and logical as an arrow in flight.

Josef made the elaborate bow that courtesy required, with a flourish of his broad-brimmed plumed hat. “I fear,” he observed, “that I have come at a poor time.”

Thomas Corn looked up at him sharply. “Forgive my blunt ways,” he said insincerely, “but why have you come here at all?”

Josef gestured. “Lady Elaine was to have told me more about the slayings. But the killer seems to have hit closer to home than anticipated.” He paused. “I take it this loss was—unwelcome.”

Corn scowled, an expression suited to an older face than the one he inhabited, but before he could speak again, Lady Elaine seemed to pull back into herself with an effort. She spoke, but her hands never ceased their gentle motions on the face and hair of the severed head. “My sweet Jemmy,” she said, the tears spilling over her cheeks again, “my fledgling.”

Josef carefully took his hand from the hilt of his sword, trying to make the movement as casual and unobtrusive as possible. He moved a few steps closer to kneel on the lowest step of the dais, which put his face roughly on the same level as the dead eyes and snarling mouth of the slain vampire. “My lady,” he said, his voice as soothing as he could make it, “tell me what happened.”

“What happened,” Thomas Corn said, “was what you were pledged to prevent. Another of our people slaughtered. Mercilessly.”

Josef looked up at him, stung. “We are not, on the whole, a merciful lot,” he said, “and in honor, sir, I fail to see how I could have prevented this. Do you think me so great I can see everywhere in this unfamiliar city?” He made a small stiff bow from the waist, which he hoped was as sarcastic as he intended. “I am flattered out of measure.”
Lady Elaine gifted him with a tremulous smile. “Jemmy was my newest fledgling, Lord Josef. Such a pretty, pretty boy, and so swift to learn our ways.” She shifted her bright blue eyes back to her lap. “You carried my hopes for the future, sweeting.”

Thomas Corn scowled again, thinking perhaps the headsman, whoever he was, had chosen the wrong target for the work of his sword. A great pity to kill Lady Elaine’s favorite, when he could have had one who was an upstart, an interloper. He regarded Josef, thinking him an arrogant pup who had not yet seen the turn of his first century. Still, when Corn spoke, his voice was pitched low, his tones loving. “You are not alone, milady. Never alone.”

Lady Elaine reached up with one bloodstained hand to touch Corn’s fingers briefly where they rested on her shoulder, then reached out to caress Josef’s cheek. There was a slight, unpleasant stickiness to her cool touch. “All the pretty boys,” she said, “all the pretty, pretty boys, and Jemmy was the fairest. Jemmy was the fairest of them all.”

Josef looked up at Corn with a slight disbelieving shake of his head, but before he could speak, the other vampire lashed out at him. “Keep a civil tongue in your head, whelp,” he snapped.

“And you in yours, commoner,” Josef retorted. He glared at Corn, tensing, ready to surge up into attack at the other’s insolent tone.

“Well, now,” a new voice said, “allowing our lady to grieve is one thing, but to let her take it to such foolish extremes is quite another.” Christopher, Lord Summersisle, strolled into the chamber, his gait indolent, accompanied by two very plainly dressed vampires and two humans, a frightened-looking young woman being supported by a boy still in his teens. Summersisle stepped, as though casually, past Josef to mount the dais and lay one hand on Lady Elaine’s shoulder. With his other, he flipped the trailing black curls of his wig back over the collar of his claret-colored coat, then took hold of Lady Elaine’s chin to turn her face toward him. “Elaine,” he said gently, “Jemmy is gone. Let go.”

“No.” The word was drawn out, like a whispering sigh.

“Yes,” Summersisle replied crisply. “And you—you need to feed. You cannot punish yourself like this.” He motioned with his head, and as Josef rose and moved back, one of the new vampires came forward to take the severed head from Lady Elaine’s lap. She was staring into Summersisle’s eyes, and made no resistance as the relic was taken. At the same time, the human boy presented himself, rolling back the white linen of his sleeve, his eyes shining with eagerness.

He offered up his wrist, as Summersisle urged her, “Drink, Elaine. Take sustenance.”

She shook her head as though to wake herself, and took a sharp sniff, the scent of mortal blood registering in her grief-numbed senses at last. Her blue eyes flickered to silver, and grasping the boy’s arm in her blood-stained hands, she bit down, slipping her fangs neatly through his skin. Josef watched, interested, as the boy threw his head back, hissing in pleasure as the vampire drank his blood.

Josef glanced around at the young human female, noting that she was trying very hard to be invisible, slowly shrinking back against the wall. He felt a slight twinge of hunger like a faint ache in his fangs, and wondered if the girl’s—services—might be available. Despite a stop by a birdcage on his way, and the sweet slaking of his hunger he had obtained there, the sight of Lady Elaine lapping the blood flowing from the boy’s wounded wrist made him thirst again.

At the same time, the dour Thomas Corn was also watching Lady Elaine feed with more intensity than seemed polite to Josef. He looked away, slightly embarrassed, and became aware that Summersisle was staring at him, seeking his attention. He nodded, fading back even as Summersisle left the dais and gestured to the silent ones who watched and waited.

“I trust you are keeping well, Alexander?” Summersisle said by way of greeting.

Josef smiled. “The city is proving diverting…aside from these unfortunate occurrences, of course.”

“Diverting? So I understand. An actress, I believe? A very nice choice.” Summersisle smiled, the mask of boredom slipping to reveal the predator. “I’ve seen her.”

Josef felt a small sinking in his stomach. He had not realized he was so closely observed. “She serves to pass the time pleasantly enough,” he said guardedly.

The other vampire’s smile gained a more genuine humor. “She’s in no danger from me,” he said. “Swallows are not so difficult to come by in this city that we need steal from one another.”

Josef bit back the retort, “she’s not a swallow,” knowing that claiming her as a lover would be a foolish error. Assuming Summersisle had more reason to call him over than a veiled threat against Maria, he waited patiently for the other to speak. And waited as one of the servant vampires was instructed to take the human forward for Lady Elaine to feed from, leaving the other standing before them with his head inclined, holding the head of the unfortunate Jemmy in the crook of one arm.

“Jacob, here, was the one to find the bodies,” Summersisle said abruptly. “I thought you should hear what he has to say.”

“Bodies?” Josef asked, his interest piqued.

Jacob nodded. “A mortal, as well as Blaylock, milord.”

“Blaylock?”

Summersisle interjected, indicating the head. Josef thought distastefully it had been the center of far too much attention. “Jeremy Blaylock. Poor boy, he was twenty years a mortal, and only six a vampire. Far too young to die.”

“Had he killed the man?” Josef was ready to move on to details.

“Jemmy was barely past the fledging hunger,” Summersisle said, his smile slipping away. “He craved the kill.

Josef nodded, remembering. The controlled feeding from a sweetly writhing human was exquisite, and a skill it had taken years of practice and experimentation to attain, but the raw rush of power inherent in draining the very life from a human, especially a male in the first flush of adult power, was also undeniable. The urge for this primal kill never left, as far as Josef was aware. At best it could be relegated to the background, like the ever-present pounding of human heartbeats. “So he’d fed.”

“Yes, milord,” Jacob said. “But he had just put the body down. The stroke that took his head was so powerful it sliced open the human as well.”

“Was Blaylock’s body chest up or down?” Josef asked.

Summersisle shot him a shrewd, appraising look as Jacob answered. “He laid chest up across the human’s body, milord.”

Josef looked at Summersisle, both eyebrows lifting. Vampire reflexes being what they were, even for a fledgling, even for a vampire rising from the satiety of an uncontrolled feeding, Jemmy Blaylock should not have met his death face on so easily.

“You think he knew his killer.” Summersisle’s voice held no question. It was a simple, flat assertion.

“Not just knew, Lord Summersisle,” Josef replied softly, his gaze steady. He chose his final word carefully, senses alert for any reaction in the room. “Trusted.”
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coco
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Re: Fire, Chapter 4 --PG-13

Post by coco »

The plot thickens Lucky. :biggrin:
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Re: Fire, Chapter 4 --PG-13

Post by mitzie »

Wow--very serious goings on!! I can't get the image of her holding Jemmy's head in her lap being so distraught!! :bmoon: I love this story and I'm off to read more... :yahoo: :clapping: :clapping: :clapping: :gasp: :eek2: :devil: :fingerscrossed: :yahoo: :clapping: :clapping: :clapping: :clapping: :thud: :thud: :notworthy:


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allegrita
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Re: Fire, Chapter 4 --PG-13

Post by allegrita »

Lucky was a master at revealing little pieces of the story in each chapter, answering some questions while raising others. This mystery cries out to be solved. And Josef looks like just the man um, vamp to do it!
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