Darkling (7 page)

So, my team leader was one of six families, that’s what Baldur meant by “our noble blood.”

“In the spirit of history, there are three main divisions amongst us: Priests, Warriors, and the rest. The latter division is self-explanatory and it covers all other professions. As time has passed, most vampires have chosen modern careers,” he made a cheerful gesture toward himself, and added,

“However, even though times have changed, along with vampires, we do not have a deficiency of Warriors or Priests. Warriors are our protection against Vocati; Priests bear our spiritual legacy and take care of ancient books and magic.”

“Magic?” I couldn’t imagine vampires with their longer canines running around waving magic wands. In fact, it was a grotesque mental image.

“Yes, it is a kind of an alchemy, so to speak. It comes from invoking the natural elements. Magic is not available to everyone, none of us has special powers; it’s in the ancient books. Priests learn it, taking a long time to master it—but, of course, time is on our side.” He laughed. “The basic purpose of magic is its contribution to our protection. Magic itself cannot do much, especially not in a fight, but it improves the power of the dagger or it alerts us when someone crosses a protective wall on our premises. This kind of wall is all around the compound, and a Priest knows as soon as someone undesirable traverses it. And most importantly, he knows whether the intruder is human or Vocati. Of course, there are other high-tech sensors buried in the ground and trees, but magic protection has always been handy.”

“Are there Priests here?” I asked.

“Every large place has one for protection.”

“You mentioned daggers.”

“They are forged from silver and reinforced with magic. That is the weapon used by Warriors.”

This surprised me. I mean, if they already had to carry blades, why something small? I’d use a katana or something.

“Any other questions?”

I hit a brain-block. Everything was unfamiliar to me and I had a ton of questions, but since I hadn’t had time to balance the known vs. unknown, it was hard to come up with one. I tumbled his words about in my mind.

“What about the Elders?” I finally asked.

“You’ve met one of them.” His smile teased me somewhat. “Baldur. He is the youngest amongst them. Beside him, other active Elder is Kyrill.”

Then I remembered something I’d been wondering about during meals.

“I see vampires eating the same food as me; what about human blood, don’t they have to drink it?”

“Yes, of course. We need blood for its nutritional value. If it wasn’t for that, and our sharper senses and longevity, what would make us different from humans?” he joked.

“So if humans drank blood they’d live longer?”

He found my sarcasm amusing, but shook his head.

“Unfortunately, many throughout your history have drawn that conclusion, which has brought about only more bloodshed. The human capacity for cruelty is unlimited. In the end, victims of such crimes provided no use. Conclusions were wrong. You might even say that such acts are cursed—those acts of bloodshed only produced loathing and anger within, and the perpetrators would rarely go unpunished. As far as vampires are concerned—we do need blood, but the older a vampire is, the longer he can survive without it, which is to say three or four weeks maximum. The average fast here is two weeks. We have volunteers; and we don’t drink from a person, as you might have imagined, but from glasses. One day you will notice that there are no much pale faces in the dining room; then you’ll know what they are doing.”

I didn’t find his sense of humor funny.

“Why not directly from humans?”

“The blood comes in bags, so glasses are more convenient,” he grinned. “Plus, it is barbaric and messy the other way. Also, it is difficult to stop once you start drinking directly from a person, so a human could get killed or maybe turned. And of course, both things are highly forbidden.”

“Why is hard to stop?”

“When you drink directly from a person, you take some of their soul, their being. You see memories, feel their emotions—and all that is extremely addictive. One must have a very strong will to detach oneself.”

“Why are your faces paler than humans? I mean it’s not like you can’t walk in the sun, is it?”

“No, that is not the reason. We are paler for the same reason that we drink blood. You see, after age eighteen, when our preservation gene awakens, our bodies start to lack oxygen due to our longevity. That is why we need blood, and our paleness you could consider a kind of anemia.”

Class was over.

I returned to my room to try to rest before training. Absently flipping through the TV channels, I thought of all I’d learned in one day. Five Elders, including Baldur and the one with a strange name; so what about the remaining three? Matthews mentioned that those two were
active
Elders, what did it mean to be inactive—if there is such a meaning at all? And that thing with the blood, that someone can drink mine from me and see my memories—do they stay mine, or would they be stolen from me? Would they belong to me if I even survived the attack in the first place?

The couch in my suite was comfy and I’d almost forgotten that my training clothes were all sweaty. I’d already worn them twice so it was definitely time to wash them. But what should I wear in their place?

I hauled myself off the couch and forced myself to go in search of Lena on the first floor. The guard sent me in her direction and as soon as she saw me, she knew my problem.

“I thought you’d come sooner,” she said.

Ouch! Did I stink that much?

Lena showed me the room where Inquirers leave their sport bags with their dirty clothes, and clean ones were ready to go.

“If you have training clothes of your own, just leave them in the laundry basket in your bathroom. Someone will pick them up.”

I thanked her and changed into identical clean navy bottoms and a white T-shirt; again, they were bigger than my size. It became clear that I would need my own gear, as she had mentioned. I hurried to the gym to find it empty. I had wandered around for a while, not knowing what to do, when Belun entered.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, without looking at me.

“It’s after six.”

I must admit that I was surprised by my boldness; but his lack of respect had pushed me. He didn’t react, but picked up the boxing gloves and threw them to me. The message was clear: get to work.

The sessions of miserable hitting seemed endless. I combined punches and kicks, and still there was no improvement.

“Stop.” Unnerved, he motioned me to come closer.

He picked up a red kicking shield, angled it against his body, and told me to kick.

He held it higher than my comfortable kicking level, so it was harder to reach and maintain my balance after the kick. I could hardly get any strength behind the kick. It was really difficult. I tried harder, and after some time, just when I thought I saw a bit of improvement, he pushed at my kick and I fell.

I stared up at him.

“Get up,” was all he said.

I hauled myself up and started again. I kicked it high enough and managed to stay well-balanced. If I hadn’t been concentrating so hard, I would’ve grinned at this little victory. And then he did the same thing, and pushed me with the kicking shield. But this time, though it was a close call, I didn’t fall.

“Punches.” He placed the shield in front of him.

That was easier than punching the bag. At least I had the satisfaction of feeling it curve under my strike.

“Faster.”

I got into it. But when I accelerated and strengthened my punches, he pushed me again—harder—and this time I flew down on my back.

“Hey!” What was his problem?!!

“Don’t just lie there, get up!”

I glared up at his emotionless dark-green eyes, and got up.

“Kick.”

I did, and to me it seemed much better than the previous day.

“You hit like a girl.”

Something about his tone. I don’t know what happened, but the anger hidden by all the fear I’d been feeling exploded. My leg was already in motion, but I just automatically switched targets. Andrei Belun’s head, even higher than the shield, suddenly seemed so much more attractive. It happened before I could stop it. He couldn’t dispute my technique; with more strength than any of my previous kicks, my shoe smacked him on the left side of his face.

Adrenalin shot through me—that was a great feeling!

“I
am
a girl,” I hissed.

A second later, I realized what I had done.

Fear flooded through me. Fangs. Oh, no, there would be sharp, terrifying fangs.

I took a couple of steps back, horrified. God, what had I done?

Belun stood watching me. The corner of his lip tilted a bit, almost in a grin. That couldn’t be possible. Why the hell would he be grinning just after I’d booted him in the face!?

“Take a mat and do two sets of push-ups and sit-ups, or as much as you can.”

He didn’t fly over and sink his long canines inside my neck, or rip off my head.

Grateful to still be alive, I rushed to do as I was told. Halfway through my push-ups, he left. I saw his black sport pants leaving the room and he didn’t come back. Finished, I hurried back to my room not wanting to further test my luck.

“Hey you, I’ve been waiting for you.” Julia grinned when she saw me. She looked like she had a secret.

“There’s something waiting for you in your room.”

I raised my eyebrows and opened my door.

Next to the closet were two clothes racks filled with clothes.

“I…I don’t understand.”

“Well, I realized that you wouldn’t waste your time leafing through those catalogues so I took the liberty of ordering for you.” She leaned in the doorway, smirking.

“Of course, I don’t expect you to like everything; but they’re your size and you probably can find something suitable until you order your own. Everything is already clean.”

I was completely in shock.

“I don’t have words….Thank you so much….” I hugged her. “I really do need clothes, but you’re so right, I wouldn’t have bothered with the catalogues any time soon.”

“I know, honey, but then you wouldn’t have a nice dress for tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow night?”

“A reception party, I already mentioned it to you.”

I found something in my memory that corresponded, but listened to her again.

“A formal reception to honor the capturing of Original Vocati.”

“The guests will all be vampires, I take it.”

“Yes,” she smiled. “It’s going to be cool, trust me. Their receptions are always grand, and I’m looking forward to seeing some friends again. There will be lots more of your age group there, which will be good for you.”

The thought of socializing with vampires of my age didn’t exactly seem like something that would be good for me. But clearly I was making progress with my fear; just the day before I would have completely freaked out over the prospect.

Julia left me alone to enjoy my new clothes. My God, I’d never had that many clothes at one time! And she had chosen well—I liked them all. There were six or seven pairs of skinny jeans and some pants of different colors, and some waist jackets and coats that suited me really well. A bunch of t-shirts, button-up shirts, blouses, then sports gear—just what I needed.

I looked at my new bags, grinning. A black shoulder bag, a clutch bag—which I assumed was for the reception—and the dark purple sports bag. I loved them! They were all designer, and I remembered Julia showing them to me the night before. Oh, she was good! Now I had sports equipment that was actually my size. Along with daily clothes, there were five beautiful dresses. The red one was not exactly my style or color, but the rest I couldn’t have chosen better myself.

There was footwear, too. Gym shoes, a pair of new black Converse, two pairs of heels and two pairs of boots—one of them black with an elegant heel, the other a chestnut Ugg boot. Man, she’d got it all! And just when I thought that was it, in the bathroom I found a cosmetic bag with all the girly necessities: brushes, make-up, lotions, crèmes, perfumes, shower gels, etc. I was shocked.

I went into the common room. She was lying on the couch watching TV.

“You really thought of everything!”

“Am I girl or am I not?” She flashed that arch of beautiful white teeth.

I sat next to her, eyeing the book on the table.

“What are you reading?”

“
The Solitaire Mystery
, by Jostein Gaarder. He’s Norwegian writer. It’s interesting, you’d probably liked it.”

“I stick to the classics.” I said.

“So did I, but there’s only so many times you can read some books. Why waste it all when there’s some great contemporary literature.”

I couldn’t argue that, but still can’t say I found much greatness in the sea of trash and kitsch.

“Was it less horrible today?” She was surprised by my smile. “What’s with the sly look?”

“After a few days of torture, I kicked Andrei Belun in the face.” My face shone with joy. I didn’t know I was capable of such evil.

“And survived.” I added.

Julia laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “If that was what you needed….”

I nodded, maybe a bit too eagerly, but screw it. I did need that. Exactly that. Confronting my torturer. It was the seal on my three-day bout of fear for my life, and the first time after more than a week that I had felt at least a glimmer of happiness. It was over sooner than I had hoped, but hey, it was better than nothing, right?

Later, I returned the clothes I had taken earlier that day to Lena, happy that I had my own stuff now. I heard voices near the hall but didn’t see a soul. It was peaceful and quiet. I wanted to go out and breathe some fresh air, so I got my coat, and headed out.

The view was different from that of the gym. I could see out into the forest, but the outline was wider. All quiet and calm—and cold. I felt different from two days ago, or even two months ago—my life had changed, and so had my thinking. In retrospective, I wondered if Nietzsche would have reevaluated his position on God if he had met a vampire. I hadn’t. But that didn’t stop me from meeting my own limitations, over and over. What were my fellow students doing now, my parents? What kind of story was being served up to them? I needed to find that out soon.