Nightlord: Orb (27 page)

Once I had a clear line of sight on her, I could see her uniqueness.  She was somewhat different to my normal mode of seeing.  The bright layers of a normal person are different in a vampire.  She had sharper, brighter lines where a human would have a nervous system.  Her vitality was a more static, stable thing, rather than foaming and churning constantly.  The crimson pulse of her blood was actually a black network of lines inside the glowing fluid of the surrounding vitality, not at all like a human.

The movement of the party allowed me to drift in her direction.  It would have been odd to suddenly turn and cut through the crowd.  She decided to drift away, though, not wishing to meet me at close range.  Since I hadn’t let go of her feathery tendril, I drew it taut and twanged it again.  She decided maybe the painting next to her deserved some study.  I joined her in viewing it and let go of her… “feather-tendril,” maybe?  It’s feathery, it’s a tendril…

“Good evening,” I offered, to the painting.

“Is it?” she asked, sounding uncertain.  The painting offered no opinion.

I eyeballed her sideways.  She seemed familiar.  The domino mask didn’t help, but it’s the worst sort of mask for concealing one’s features.  Still, she was definitely familiar.  The resemblance was hard to see.  Then I had it.  I tried to picture her with wildly-colored hair and glittering makeup. Yes, I had seen her before.  She was prettier than I first thought.

“Interesting company you keep,” I observed.

“A girl has to know how to get around.”

“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”

“I’m Mary, of the Thessaloniki.”

“You may call me Halar.”  I suppose I could have used my original name, “Eric,” but that’s for people I like.  “Vlad” was right out; I was using it publicly at the moment.  “Halar” seemed like the best alias.

“No tribe?” she asked, looking at me.

“I never joined one,” I answered.  Her expression flickered toward wide-eyed, then locked into a Generic Smile.

“Oh.  I thought we were all born into a tribe.  If you take my meaning.”

“I wasn’t.  I’ve never heard of tribes.”

“Um.  Perhaps we could take a walk?” she suggested, gesturing toward the outdoor patio.  Her eyes flicked around the room, then met mine, clearly indicating the potential eavesdroppers all around us.  She had quite expressive eyes.

“Love to.  May I ask what your costume is?  I’m afraid I’m not familiar with modern pop culture.”

“It’s the Nightstalker,” she explained, taking my arm.  “She’s a video heroine.  Investigates bad guys until she finds someone who needs to vanish, then vanishes them.”  She smiled prettily, showing fangs for a moment.  Other than the fangs, she had perfect teeth.  I was mildly envious.  “Usually it’s in a quite bloody fashion.”

She talked about her super-heroine costume and we walked along, chatting.  She led me out onto the terrace.  There were a number of other couples with that idea.  The terrace was dim, large, and had several concrete benches.  It was relatively private with the noise from inside, but Mary led me along a brick walk through the hedges.

“How old are you?” she asked, quietly, once we were out of sight.

“I don’t know,” I admitted., equally quietly.  “I’ve lost track.”  This did not seem to make her more comfortable.

“How long have you been awake, then?”

“Oh.  Um.”  I decided to lie.  Explaining how I was from another universe—possibly two or three alternate universes—did not seem a kettle of fish worth boiling.  I chose to interpret her question as asking how long I’d been
here. 
“A few weeks, a couple of months, something like that.  I’ve been learning to fit in, you know.”

“Do the elders know you’re up and about?”

“I doubt it, since I don’t know who you’re talking about.  Unless you’ve told them, of course.”

She seemed uncomfortable about that.

“I… I reported what I saw to my progenitor, of course,” she stammered, not looking at me.  “I couldn’t tell him much—only how I felt your presence.  I don’t know what he did with the information.”

“Seems fair.  And stop acting like I’m about to bite your head off.  I’m not.  I’m usually a pretty nice guy, for a monster.”

“I see that,” she agreed.  “I’m sorry if I’ve offended.”

“Don’t worry about it.  Now, perhaps you might tell me what you’re doing here?  At Powers’ place, I mean.”

“It’s a party.  People know me around here.  I’m beautiful.  I get invitations to places.”  I certainly couldn’t argue with that.

“Does Powers mean anything to you?  Is he important to you in any way?”

“No… no, I wouldn’t say so.  My professional capacity as a criminal doesn’t usually move me in the same circles.  He’s someone I’ve run into a few times, that’s all.  Socially, he’s another climber, trying to creep up to the upper crust by waving money around.”

“Interesting.  Do you know a Mark Spotznitz?”

“I’ve heard the name, I think,” she admitted, slowly.  She tapped her purple lipstick with a finger, thinking.  “I think I have, at least.  It rings a faint bell, but that’s all it does.  I doubt we’ve been introduced.  Why?  I mean, may I ask why?”

“I’d like to buy him.  And his kid, I suppose.  Who would I talk to in this town about it?”

“I would be honored and delighted to be of service,” she offered.  “I’ll ask around and find out whatever you want to know.  All I need I need from you is where to send the information.”

Don’t trust her,
Firebrand interjected.  I held up a hand to forestall Mary’s conversation.

Why not?

She’s thinking you probably don’t know much about technology.  She wants your daytime resting-place, or enough information to lead someone to it.  She’ll be rewarded.  That’s all I’ve got.

“I don’t think I’ll tell you that,” I mused.  “But I would like to know who it is you think will reward you for finding my daytime lair, and why.”

Vampires can’t blush.  We also can’t turn pale.  I’m not sure which she was trying to do.

She’s frightened and considering running, Boss… but she also seems… it’s weird, but I think she
likes
being afraid of you.
I gave Firebrand the equivalent of a mental nod.  I could see a conflict inside her—a strong urge to stay, and an urge to flee.  She seemed to be enjoying it.  A thrill-seeking personality?

“Please don’t go,” I asked, gently.  “I only want to have a civil conversation, if that’s at all possible.”

She hesitated, poised between flight and curiosity.  I smiled my best charming smile and held out my empty hands, palms up.

“Please?” I repeated.

“I… all right,” she said, taking one of my hands.  We continued to walk through the garden.  “I apologize, dark lord, for… well…” she trailed off, lifting my hand to look at my fingertalons.  Fingernails, I mean.  Since I was planning on the whole outfit, I didn’t grind them down during my evening hygiene ritual.

“That’s quite all right,” I assured her.  “I’m sure you have obligations.  And, if you insist on being formal, that’s
Dread
lord.  I’d rather you weren’t, though.  Now, let’s have a basic primer on who you are, your relationship with your progenitor and tribe, and how they relate to the elders.  I’m unfamiliar with how you do these things.”

Quick, describe an ancient and complex subculture of blood-sucking monsters in a thousand words or less.

All vampires sleep during the day and only get to go out at night.  None of that native-soil-of-the-homeland stuff, but they do have an allergy to sunlight causing severe inflammation.  They all have retractile fangs, mildly heightened senses, a level of enhanced physical prowess, and can see even in total darkness.

There are three main tribes of vampires: the Thessaloniki, the Constantines, and the Phrygians.  Each tribe is a different subspecies of vampire, similar in gross, but with a few differentiating details.

Thessaloniki feed on what I think of as the living essence, the vitality of a human being, as well as any blood available.  Their primary characteristic is their level of extra-sensory powers.  They often have “feelings,” leading them to make lucky choices or avoid danger.  As they get older and more powerful, their daytime dreams become oracular, even precognitive.

I think I might be a little jealous.  Or is that envy?  Whatever, Mary can see
colors
in the dark.  I have no idea how that works, unless… maybe her psyche has some sort of active sensory function, emitting energy in such a way it can interpret the reflection as mundane color.  On the other hand, maybe colors have a certain psychic resonance and she picks up on it.  I wish I could do that.  On yet another hand, if I didn’t have the monochrome vision, how would I tell if it’s bright, dark, or indifferent?

That feathery tendril-touch of hers is also impressive.  With it, she can count the change in your pocket by feeling it.  In fairness, I could feel out the coins and work out what they were, kind of like putting your hand in your pocket and picking out which coin is which.  For her, it’s almost like seeing them.  While I can count the ridges around the rim of a coin with my tendrils, it would be like running a fingernail along the rim and counting them.  She puts a bit of her tendril’s feather-fluff in each ridge and spits out the answer.

Constantines are less spiritual, requiring blood, only the blood, and ravenously consuming blood.  It can come from any source, though, which makes it possible to hide in human society.  The Constantines possess extraordinary physical attributes—strength, speed, and general toughness.  From the sound of them, they’re the sort of vampire you run over with your semi tractor-trailer and then drive away from quickly.  They’ll get up in a minute or two, hungry and pissed off.  And prepared to do something about both, possibly including running after the truck, jumping on it, and ripping their way through the cab to get to the driver.

Phrygians are the most subtle and supernatural of the three tribes.  In terms of physical capabilities, they’re the closest thing to human.  Oh, they regenerate like an undead and have a mild enhancement in other physical respects, but not much else on the physical front.

Fortunately for them, their powers are mostly the mystical sort:  temporary mental domination, the infliction of forgetfulness, that sort of thing.  Handy for sucking out a pint or two and leaving without anyone making a fuss about it.  I’m told they’re disturbingly good at it, once they make eye contact or touch their victim.

Their big drawback, however, is the blood.  They require human blood, drawn directly from the human.  They consume the vitality, the spiritual essence of their victims as well, but they only do it by drinking blood directly from the flesh.

I don’t know if I can do any of the Phrygians’ tricks.  I mean, I know I can target certain colors in someone’s spirit and drain the emotion that goes with it, I’m not so sure about erasing memories or forcing them to do my will.  Maybe I don’t practice it enough.  I also don’t feel any urge to start.

Each tribe is loosely organized under two or three tribal chieftains whose main purpose, as far as I can gather, is to interview new prospective members.  The need for secrecy is well-understood and well-impressed on all the members of each tribe.  Aside from ecological reasons—unrestricted vampire population growth leading to food shortages—they’re mostly concerned with the problems of human technology.  Flamethrowers and high explosives, of course, but the occasional wooden stake through the heart is still an issue.

Can’t say I blame them, really.

The elders, or, rather, the Elders, are the eldest of each tribe.  They form an ultimate triumvirate that doesn’t rule, as such, but speaks on behalf of all the undead in the event something important comes to dark.  They seldom encourage anyone to take part in a war, for example, but they
could
… and having a few hundred vampires show up to the war—even for one night—could drastically alter its course.

Mary, as a vampire, was about sixty years old.  Basically, she was an established member of the community.  Her progenitor, Horace, was over a century older.  This was expected, given the rule about not creating a new vampire until you were older and more stable.  She was his friend/lover/companion for about fifty years, then went off on her own.  She claimed it was a typical pattern.  Immortality means you can finally understand forever… and staying with someone forever starts to sound less and less like Heaven, more and more like Hell.

Having spotted me, she was initially concerned about someone visiting from out of town.  It can be messy, not knowing where to get your breakfast, and she felt it important to be ready to cover for the new guy.  She also immediately noticed I wasn’t like any other vampire she ever met.  For one thing, I felt her touch.  For another, she could feel, as she put it, “an immense depth and power” inside me.  So she told Horace, and he, presumably, told Tony—the only three Thessaloniki in town.

Now, though, she thought telling the Elders might be a good idea, since I was obviously old, bordering on ancient.  She had no idea what tribe I belonged in and that bothered her; it upset her worldview.  Firebrand reported she was worried I might be old enough to be a pre-tribe vampire, which would make me the oldest thing in the world.

“Did you break out of a pyramid?” she asked, “or did someone trawl you up from Atlantis?”