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Arc 4: Those Left Behind (Part 13)
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Reborn to Love: A Vampire's Fate Interlude IV: Butterfly Effect
The last thing Canus remembers is the sheer devastation of it all—the bitterness that had seeped into his very core, the pain and regret in her eyes, the purity of her confusion as he gave her his last order. And then there was pain. And then there was nothing. Then, quite suddenly, there was something. There was rain, each droplet splashing down against the roof in a familiar arrhythmic patter, banging against window panes in similar fashion. There was the silken slide of his shirt against his skin, the press of firm cushions against his back. He was slowly lifting out of his trance. He’s always been slow to wake in the evenings, just like he’d been slow to wake from sleep as a mortal. He makes use of his grogginess well, however. Letting it dissipate as he collected his thoughts. Meditation, as he learned from a pair of old acquaintances—mystics of a rare western school of Buddhism—was an invaluable tool in the life of an immortal. It was a habit that he’d practised since long
Reborn to Love: A Vampire's Fate Arc 5: Lines in the Sand (Part 1)
Canus and I don’t bother going in the front door. Instead, we peek around to the back. Only when we see a ghastly hole in the ground in the cemetery, raw soil overturned atop the lawn where Katy’s grave must have been, do we continue on inside.The halls are unlit and tranquil, but Canus doesn’t hesitate as he takes the winding turns that lead him to a suite of rooms that I don’t remember ever noticing before. It’s in an entire different section of the estate than the wing where Scintilla and I were assigned rooms. It’s been somewhat hastily refurbished, the must of decades of neglect mixing in with the sharp smell of self-assembly furniture.The door has been left ajar, and Canus and I slip in the small reception area just as Scintilla slips out of what must be Katy’s bedroom.‘Sire,’ she whispers, head bowed.I catch her gaze when she looks up and flash her a supportive smile. She doesn’t return it, but something about her bearing softens just the slightest.Canus jerks his chin tow
Reborn to Love: A Vampire's Fate Arc 5: Lines in the Sand (Part 2)
‘Please, my lady, there’s no one else!’Strangely enough, the man pleading to me from outside the reception chamber sounds completely mortal. He must have been a thrall at some point, but he can’t be any longer, not with that level of emotion to his voice.‘Simon, let him approach.’Simon gives me a look that speaks volumes of my presumed softness, which I pretend to ignore. To him, this is the first time that I've held court as Canus’s representative, but I’ve done it before, a time or two, back during my first life. It takes a moment, but Simon eventually unbars the door, letting in the human. Only two other petitioners are in the room, and though they seem annoyed, they also make no move to protest as I skip over their non-queue.As the human approaches, I realise that he’s somewhat familiar. I’ve seen him before. At court? No—he looked younger back then, barely more than a teenager, and he’d been immortal when we met, barely more than a newborn and stuck fast to his master, a dark
Reborn to Love: A Vampire's Fate Arc 1: A Second Death (Part 1)
Everyone knows that the most important person in a vampire’s life is her Sire, the one whose blood is keeping a vampire tethered to the splendour of immortality—her saviour, her master. Most vampires are half in love with their Sires, slavishly devoted to their every whim and fancy, willing to change even the most fundamental aspects of their characters to gain the tiniest modicum of approval. But not me. I wanted to kill him. ﹒ Hello. I am, as my Sire named me after my transformation into a member of those monsters dwelling in the night, forever to be known by Favilla. Maybe it’s contradictory for me to use a name given to me by someone I hate so much, but the name my human parents gave me has long since ceased to matter so, instead, Favilla is what you shall call me. My story started just over three decades ago, the first time I died, when my Sire first found me and claimed me for his own. However, that’s not where your story will start. No, your story will start on the night of
Reborn to Love: A Vampire's Fate Arc 1: A Second Death (Part 2)
I turn to the thrall, and he lowers his head, expectant. ‘Your master,’ I say, “where is he?” He steps back, gesturing to the door closest to him. ‘It’s unlocked,’ a pleasant tenor calls from within. A smile comes unbidden to my lips. I adjust my dress, slightly self-conscious of the glamour I’ve put over myself, then walk through the door. It opens onto a minimalist bedroom done in soft greys and deep reds, lit only by the light of the city filtering in through the balcony doors. I don’t pay the room much mind, however, as my entire being is focused upon the man sitting in an armchair, reading in the near-darkness. He looks to be in his late twenties, though that is of course a meaningless measure for us vampires. He bears a strong resemblance to my Sire in his features—sharp-boned and well-proportioned. He has a slightly more masculine air, however, as he is of a more powerful build. His colouring, too, differs from Canus in a crucial way—his hair is more fair, a honey blond ins
Reborn to Love: A Vampire's Fate Arc 1: A Second Death (Part 3)
The rendezvous point Chrys has chosen is a denture-like block of abandoned townhouses, all whitewashed façades hiding decrepit insides. It is almost comically stereotypical to think that a crazed Desecrant might favour such a residence. Chrys has stationed a few trusted subordinates at strategic locations for ambush, but they have orders to slow and wound rather than to kill. After all, few vampires in this city are strong enough to stand against Canus in a fight. In the end, it will still come down to me distracting Canus and Chrys surprising him. At five to seven, the sky outside is lightening already, deep violet edged with palest gold at the eastern horizon. Anticipation churns in a stomach that I no longer use. I’m nauseated, but I’m also not, because I don’t think it’s even possible for vampires to vomit the way humans do. ‘I’m scared,’ I say to Chrys, who is sitting beside me in the cellar of the centre-most townhouse. His chest is firm and strong behind me. Above the musk o
Reborn to Love: A Vampire's Fate Arc 1: A Second Death (Part 4)
‘STOP!’ yells a voice that I don’t remember ever hearing so panicked. I freeze, but then I realise that Canus’s command wasn't directed at me. Scintilla, meanwhile, has gone lax, eyes wide with fright and despair. I turn my head. Canus had widened the hole in the wall where I’d broken through when I tackled Chryseus off of him, staring through the opening at Scintilla and I with the strangest expression on his face. His cold eyes are bright in the dim light of the room, reflecting the diffuse light of dawn spilling inside through dingy egress windows that hadn’t been properly boarded up. He looks afraid, I realise with a start, but I don’t know why he’s afraid. The emotion makes him approachable in a way that I’ve never felt before. I want to comfort him, tell him that everything is fine, that he has nothing to fear. I struggle again, and Scintilla lifts easily off of me. I don’t glance at her face; I can’t bear it. I can’t stand knowing that she loves me still, but chose to betray
Reborn to Love: A Vampire's Fate Interlude I: The Game
One day old and ancient, the waxing crescent—barely more than a sliver, really—rises mere minutes before the night is to lift and the day is to break. Weak as she is, the moon still sees it, not the act itself, but the aftermath, the spreading cinders tearing through the world, dissolving all that it touches, unravelling the tapestry that time and fate has woven of this world. ‘You’re cheating,’ the moon tries to say to the night, but then the sun has risen by now, chasing the night away from this half of the globe. ‘Why has wrath descended upon the world?’ asks the sun. And the day, breaking merrily upon a world in ashes, says simply, ‘I am sure that all will be well again upon the morrow.’ Barely visible in the morning sky, the moon remains silent, for she alone knows that the night will not allow the morrow to arrive, not for cycles upon cycles again. ﹒ When time finally stabilises, when the world reforms again, when suddenly the moon finds herself nearly full and shining bri
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