The Greyfriar (Vampire Empire, Book 1) by Clay & Susan Griffith;Clay Griffith;Susan Griffith (38 page)

Adele told him dubiously, "Nice thought, but your brother will
never change."

Gareth shook his head. "No, he will not. He will have to die
instead."

Adele was taken aback by his frankness. "That's quite cold."

Gareth shrugged.

Her hand reached for one of the books. It was a boy's illustrated
adventure novel. Apparently it told the story of a young man who
fought injustice by stealing through the night, rescuing damsels, and
foiling villains with swords and pistols. Her eyes widened as she saw the
melodramatic watercolor of the dashing young hero in a cape and mask.

Adele slowly regarded the tall vampire standing beside her. His
head was cocked as he watched her curiously. There was a trace of anticipation in him as she held a book he obviously prized.

Gareth realized something was amiss by her expression as she stared
silently at him. "Are the books not to your liking? Are they offensive to
you? I can only guess at-"

"Are you so desperate to be human?" Adele's finger traced the heroic
figure on the cover.

"That can never be. But there is still so much about you that I want
to know."

"Like what?"

Gareth grinned, his eyes gleaming at the prospect of answers. "Like
why do humans nurture their children for so long? Why do you create
music? Why are your bodies so heavy?"

The questions kept coming until Adele stayed him with a gentle
hand on his. "So many," she noted. "And so few I can answer since I have
never thought of the answers myself."

"So you can't answer them?" Gareth appeared crestfallen.

"Some I suppose I can." Adele pondered for a few moments. "I guess
we nurture our children for so long because we love them. We want to
see them grow up strong and proper." She paused and regarded him
quizzically. "Do vampires ... have children?"

"Yes, of course."

Adele sat back. "Really? You see, we always believed vampires created more of their kind by infecting humans with your bite. Or at least
we used to. Now, we just don't know."

"No. We ..." Gareth fell silent. "I understood it was improper for
a male to discuss such personal topics with a female in your culture."

"Such personal topics?" The princess sat forward. "Do you mean sex? Vampires have sex?" She felt her face flush with excitement, and tried to
cover it by glancing at the books again. She was discussing a forbidden
topic with a forbidden man.

He remained quiet.

Still, the young woman continued, "So female vampires get
pregnant?"

"Yes." He knelt on one knee and took the book of French poetry. "I
had a question about a particular phrase that-"

"Don't change the subject," she scolded. "Does it happen the same
way as humans? Pregnancy, I mean?"

"I assume so."

"Have you ... fathered a child?" There was no way to be coy about
a question like that, but she was curious.

"Princess, please!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Adele felt a wonderful sense of satisfaction
that she hadn't felt in a long time. He was very uncomfortable, and she
took a peculiar delight in tightening the screws a bit in a teasing way.
His appalled expression at her boldness was endearing.

Gareth heard the rush of her heartbeat, and the sharp tang of her
scent shifting again from soft toward something very pleasing with a
sharp bite. How could he not give her the answers she wanted? He
touched his chest. "I have not. I mean, not yet."

Adele wasn't sure if she was relieved or not. "So how do vampires
care for their young?"

"After birth, we feed off our mothers for a few months until we can
hunt."

"Feed? Do you mean blood?"

"Of course. Like any infant."

Adele cringed and tried not to picture Gareth as a feeding baby. But
she was unsuccessful. "Not quite like any infant."

"Of course, these days our child rearing has changed like everything. Many newborns feed off bloodnurses, humans who provide food.
Since the Conquest, our females have lost the taste for the danger of
motherhood."

"Danger?"

"Well, newborns could well nurse their mothers to death." Gareth
waved a dismissive hand. "Things happen. When we are strong enough
to hunt, we are placed in packs with others our age."

"Is that how you grew up? In a pack?" It sounded so savage.

"Within the royal family it is somewhat different. We were not
placed with common children. I grew up in a pack of clan leaders."

"And you think that's a good way to do it?"

"My duties as a prince could best be explained by royal tutors."
Gareth made himself more comfortable. He closed the lid of the trunk
and used it to sit closer to her. "And you, as a princess, who taught you?"

Adele leaned back in the chair with the books cradled in her lap.
"Most of my studies were with a tutor too." Then she smiled at a distant
memory. "But some things were taught to me by my mother. I can
remember being in her arms while she read to me. And dancing lessons!
I used to twirl about the room while she played the ney."

Gareth interrupted her reminiscences. "You knew your mother?"

"Yes. Only for a while. She died when I was young. But I remember
everything about her." Adele touched the hilt of the khukri still secure
in her belt. "This was hers." She regarded Gareth. "You didn't know
your mother?"

"No."

"Did she die?" Adele was afraid to ask directly if Gareth killed her
as a newborn. She prayed it wasn't that.

"No. She deemed not to take the risk. Cesare's mother, on the other
hand, elected to let him feed."

"And?"

"And he killed her."

Gareth seemed about to stand, drifting into his own darkening
thoughts, so Adele quickly asked, "Were you and your brother ever close?"

"No. Never."

"Do you regret it?"

"My only regret is that I didn't destroy him when he was a baby."

The room had become shadowy and frightening. Gareth was cloaked
in morbidity now, and Adele wanted desperately to lift the pall. She
struggled for something to say. "Tell me about your father, the king."

Gareth smiled and straightened. "Ah. He was everything to me. He
taught me how to hunt and fight."

"Is he a great fighter too?"

"He was indeed. The finest I ever saw." The prince pursed his lips.
"He is nothing now. He lost his senses during the Great Killing. Or that
was the end of him, anyway; his mind had been in decline for some time.
He is well over eight hundred years old."

"Is that old? For a vampire?"

"Yes. Quite. And he didn't father children until late in life. Only
managed Cesare and me. Not exactly the legacy he deserved. One son a
monster. And the other a traitor."

That saddened Adele. Her eyes fell back to the adventure book.
Gareth had never heard any stories from his mother. Yet he had such
devotion to his father, who was a great hunter and warrior. Was it no
wonder that he had become obsessed with stories of adventure from
human books?

She mused, "My mother used to read me these sorts of stories often."

His hand lightly touched the books in her lap. "Are the stories true?
Were there such people?"

Adele smiled once more. "Some are based in truth. Others are fairy
tales. They're all meant to teach a lesson of sorts."

"Then I think I have learned the lessons well." Gareth turned to a
page with an illustration of a man in a flowing robe who held twin pistols and protected a young woman from fierce pirates.

"That's true enough." Adele noticed that the young woman in the
picture had beautiful flowing hair. She reached up self-consciously to
touch her own hair, which was still a tangled horror despite her best
efforts. She sighed, wishing for one day with her maids to correct the
matted mistake that was her hair.

"What's wrong?" Gareth asked.

Adele gave him a wan look. "Nothing important. Just my hair."

He stared at it without comprehending.

She continued, "It's a mess. It used to be so ... pretty. Now ..."
Her voice trailed off.

"Now what? What's wrong with it?"

"You wouldn't understand. You're a man." Adele looked around the
room. "Don't you have mirrors?" She glanced back at him, a bit embarrassed.
"Oh sorry. Vampires don't like mirrors, do you? You don't cast a reflection."

Gareth raised a surprised eyebrow. "What? I have nothing against
mirrors. There just aren't any here because they've been broken over the
decades." He laughed. "We cast perfectly fine reflections."

Adele laughed too. "Oh. Another beloved myth destroyed. Anyway,
my hair was like my mother's, thick and curly. But now it's just a tangle of
knots back there. It's a mess. A hive. I'll never get it under control again."

"Then cut it off," Gareth suggested.

Adele started to roll her eyes in dismay, but stopped. It was an idea.
And the more she thought about it, the more she liked it. Why not have
new hair for her new life? She closed the book and hummed in thought.
Her fingers drummed on the leather cover.

Gareth interrupted her musing. "You mentioned once that you have
a library in Alexandria. Is it a magnificent thing?"

"Oh yes. I spend days in there often. It's my place of solace. Of
course, I never know what book to choose first, so I spend hours just
browsing."

"Hours?"

"Alexandria's library has thousands of books," she explained.

Gareth was stunned. "Thousands?"

"Alexandria is one of the oldest cities in the world. Its library is one
of the most complete."

"I can't imagine it."

Adele took his hand in hers, an impulsive gesture that surprised even
her. It was cool and gentle. But it felt right. She hadn't forgotten his species
this time, nor confused her hero with her supposed captor. His long fingers
curled around hers, and her heartbeat raced as he softly squeezed. Her
breath caught at the force of his gaze now upon her. It was no longer icy
and cold, but warm and inviting as the blue of her Mediterranean Sea.

"I'd like to show it to you someday." Her quiet words were sincere.
There was more of a kindred spirit in Gareth than she would have ever
imagined.

His eyes shone with gratitude. "I would like that."

IRSHIP, SIR."

"Where away?" Senator Clark shouted.

The bosun's mate pointed over the rail and downward. "Four points
starboard, sir. Running deep three fathoms."

Clark muscled his way through his officers on the quarterdeck and
waded amidships, then grabbed a spyglass from the bosun's mate and
leaned over the rail. He jammed the glass against his eye, swaying dangerously with each unpredictable burst of wind.

Clark spoke to Major Stoddard, whom he correctly assumed would
be at his side. "It's a derelict. Dammit! I can't see clear."

Before the trusty Stoddard could reply, the senator threw a leg over
the rail and clambered onto the network of trailing lines and slid down
a heavy cable to the keel. The wind pounded him as he twisted an arm
and leg around the line and pressed the spyglass back to his eye, staring
intently at the wretched airship below wallowing at barely treetop level.
The crew of Ranger would have stared at him in amazement, normally,
at such a feat. But this was Senator Clark.

The senator's mad laughter was nearly lost in the ferocious wind as
he slipped the brass spyglass inside his shirt. He climbed back to the deck as easily as if he had been finishing an exercise rather than clinging
precariously thousands of feet above the earth. Major Stoddard knew
better than to offer an arm as his commander lifted himself onto the
deck with a masculine grunt.

"Bloodmen ship." Clark leaned against the mahogany gunwale and
pursed his lips in ostentatious thought. "Vampires don't fight with
them. So I doubt it's looking for us." He grinned. "They're a transport
ship, Major. Such as they use to move bulk. Or prisoners. Follow me?"

"I believe so, sir."