The Bonded (11 page)

It is that moment he chooses for an entrance. His long hair is pulled back in a ponytail, not the modern version, but one from centuries ago with the ribbon tied low on the neck. Just give him a white wig, powdered face, and some piano lessons to complete the costume. I think I’m the only one who appreciates the situation, as the others seem suffocated with his heavy presence. Cassius leisurely, but with intention, makes his way to the center of activity as a wave of vampires part the sea for their beloved Moses. As usual, I’m on the outside looking in. He says, “The waers are testing our boundaries and our commitment. They have infiltrated the hunting grounds, killed Jeffrey and Brian, and molested our prey. They are animals with no conscience or value in this world. We must stand united with discipline!” I hear the approving murmurs of excitement. He continues, “I am meeting with the Council of War and we are near a battle plan that will finally rid the world of their filthy kind. Be strong and resilient; our time is near.”

It was short and sweet, but those around embraced his words with rabid shouts. “Now go. Be cautious, and if you happen upon a waer, kill it without mercy, without thought, for they will surely do the same to you.” The response is immediate as vampires hurriedly scurry in twos to their cars, trucks, even motorcycles. I begin my visual search for Seth, as practice is never altered or cancelled, and my efforts are unsatisfied. I let the moment develop on its own as I stand in still patience. A Harley crackles like angry thunder to avoid me. He tosses out a couple of expletives to show his appreciation and I let a half smile slip, knowing I got the best of him.

I move into one of my moments of deep withdrawal; I can’t seem to break through the immobile trance as my eyelids fall shut and my secondary senses peak. I hear cars revving, whispers of anticipation, and frenetic heartbeats preparing for battle. I inhale, deeply absorbing every scent, every particle that I can find, as smell is the most powerful of senses. I catch it, a musty flavor so diluted and masked, as if it is only one molecule that no one would detect were they not searching. I suck in my bottom lip, licking it with a rolled tongue, and taste the faded scent of waer. My teeth grow and bite down on that lip in ecstatic response as I hear a voice.

“Adriel, what do you sense?” asks Seth.

My heart jumps with startled nervousness and I force a quick recovery. “I’m still getting used to this new awareness and sometimes it can be a little overwhelming.”

He stares with uneasy suspicion, but continues matter-of-factly. “The Council of War will be meeting in an hour. Our practice will have to be cancelled.”

“I’m sure you’re disappointed,” I reply, knowing his disdain for me.

He nods with ambivalence. “My feelings toward you are quite irrelevant. My position here is to make certain that skilled warriors continue their education, and although it is… a
regression
to teach a young one like you, I do it without contempt.”

“What distinguishes a warrior from a novice?”

“You will be tested by others who are nearer to your level of competency. Admittedly, it is proving difficult to find vamps that have time at their disposal to accomplish this. Your background has provided you with a head start and you seem to have a natural talent for swordplay. I imagine the tests will begin soon. Also, I am curious as to how your strength is increasing at such a rate. Other vampires increase with very subtle gains, but you are jumping levels quickly.” I fight back a smile, but lose. “Do not take my assessment as a compliment, Adriel. You will be a formidable opponent one night and perhaps could best some vamps already, but you are still a child to a master.”

Thanks for the buzz kill. “So, I have three hours of free time?”

He thoughtfully replies, “No, Cassius is expecting you in his home. He has some time before the council starts and has summoned you. I suggest you don’t make him wait, as he is a killer with little tolerance for tardiness.” He lowers his head and sidesteps with hand extended to open a direct path to my destination. After taking a brief moment of mental preparation, I walk expeditiously to his home.

I knock quietly and wait a solid minute, anticipating the lock to slide and click. His fingers creep around the edge of the door, pulling it open with casual ease. “Good evening, Adriel. Welcome to my home.” His voice is gentle, even parental, and certainly a far departure from all I’ve seen of his ill-tempered demeanor.

The house is striking with knotted pine fitted from floor to ceiling. It has the natural look that so many cover with dry wall and bright colors as if recreating the world in their shallow image. We avoid the staircase that is three steps directly in front of the foyer and turn right, opening the French doors into the study. The study is rather large with cathedral ceilings and bookshelves that stretch twenty feet to accommodate the thousand or so books aligned in some sort of order. I can’t help but stare at the old parchments with time-beaten bindings and spines that have threads hanging like disheveled hair. He has amassed a collection of antique books that rival many of the ancient museums I’ve visited through the years. My gaze gradually shifts from the heights above to ground level where a large, oversized mahogany desk with hand-carved demons etched into the sides rests, accompanied by two guest chairs clothed in burgundy leather.

He takes notice of my impression and continues my thought. “I have spent nearly 1,500 years choosing books that are meaningful to me and to our kind. Of course this room could not possibly contain all that I have read or attained, and not all are worthy to be showcased or even kept for that matter. These books represent our history, who we are, and from whence we came. All are original manuscripts, or the oldest and closest that have been discovered. Do you read often, Adriel?”

I shift my gaze from books to his eyes and reply, “I’ve been alone most of my life, for this reason or that, but have always found good company in talented writing. I have to admit, I could spend quite a few nights in here.”

He reciprocates with a smile. “Persephone has informed you of how we survive, but I think it is time to describe our beginnings, for one cannot understand what one is without understanding the past.” He approaches one of the shelves and stands in place, tapping his chin and pondering the location of the book that will illuminate me. Of course it’s rehearsed, but I allow him the moment. Retrieving the rolling ladder he lets out an “aha!” and climbs six steps, gently grasping an ancient book. Holding the book like a football, he swoops down and places it on the desk. “Please have a seat.” He directs with his hands. I take his offer and he joins me from behind the bulky desk, teacher and student. Here we go again.

“I understand that your training is progressing well with our Weapons Master and that your hunting skills are keen.” It was a sentence, but ended with a slight raise in pitch, indicating a question.

I respond accordingly. “Seth is a thorough teacher. He is unyielding, demanding, and quite disciplined, but for me, those are qualities I can admire when my life is on the line.” His eyes narrow with confirmation. “As for Percy, she is a true predator, teaching through words and action.”

“Good. How are the others treating you?”

This is a loaded question so I respond with apathy. “They are cautious with me, but I haven’t experienced any physical assaults or threats… yet.”

He seems satisfied with my answer and moves from pleasantries to the issue. I’ve met many men like him, no time for small talk—to the point and be done with you. I wonder how he is in romantic relationships.

“Adriel, have you ever heard of the LGM?”

“Yeah, the Last Glacial Maximum. It was the most recent Ice Age that occurred about 20,000 years ago. I think the human population shrank to less than a million? That’s all I can recall.” Damn that memory. Percy was correct; it was like going through reel-to-reel film.

“I have to admit, I am a tad surprised at your knowledge of that event. This book in front of us is called the
Knosis
. It was written by our progenitor, Anu, about 4,000 years ago and describes in an ancient, simple language the events that I am going to share with you. He, as you will learn, was probably over 15,000 years old and worshipped as one of the oldest gods recorded in ancient Sumer when it was written.”

Cassius caresses the old text with one finger and continues. “It was as you describe
and
was the beginning of our people. As you mentioned, the climate changed dramatically, creating a blanket of ice covering a large portion of Earth. I’m sure you are familiar with the science behind this, so I won’t bore you with details, but for the sake of the story, I must point out that it did indeed create an atmosphere so brutal that humanity struggled to survive. Humanity evolved over hundreds of thousands of years due to their ability to adapt and this was no different as they escaped a deadly freeze and moved into areas that were warmer. There was one tribe, though, according to the
Knosis
, caught in a raging blizzard that happened upon a cave buried in ice halfway up a treacherous mountain.”

He takes a long breath and says, “We don’t know where the cave is, but suspect it is located somewhere in Germany. That is another story for another evening”—four seconds pass—“perhaps.” He lifts his eyes from the book and contemplates me. “From what this book states, that tribe avoided certain death during the ice storm, barely surviving frigid temperatures in that enormous cave for three days. In the empty darkness there was no food to be found. So, when the snow and wind finally capitulated, the men immediately departed for the hunt while the women investigated the deep labyrinth of tunnels that dug into the mountain.

“As you can imagine, the options were sparse, with larger game and hunting relegated to small rodents or the occasional canine. The men returned on the verge of starvation when the women informed them they had discovered a small lake with peculiar water deep within the heart of the mountain. This, of course, was no ordinary water. Anu describes it as ‘the color of grass and the sun.’ That was an apt depiction as I have found paintings created during the Babylonian era, from our kind, with a pool of green water that was only a shade away from being colorless. It was this pale-green water that gave life to our kind.” His tone became distinctive as the last sentence was spoken with emphasis. His stare pierces my eyes as he continues. “I have seen famished humans with rib cages protruding and stomachs bloated from malnutrition. I know what desperation can do to the mind. They will eat tree bark, dirt, anything to stave off impending death. So I can envision the tribe emaciated and ravenous, with a primal survival instinct taking over all logical thinking as they cupped their hands and lifted the green water to their lips with warnings of poison and sickness overridden. It was in that moment our legacy began and as with all of nature, the change was gradual, not immediate.

“They named the strange water ‘
úš
MU
’ in Sumerian, which roughly translates to ‘
blood-water.’
It was similar to water in that it satisfied their thirst and rehydrated their bodies, but they soon discovered that it was more. In fact, we now know that it wasn’t water any more than we are skin. Just as skin is entirely made up of dead cells and merely protects the living creature that resides within, so was the water a skin for an ancient organism that was also alive. There is no evidence that it was sentient; just a primordial organism that thrived on the nutrients found in living blood.”

“Was it some form of virus?”

He thinks for a moment. “That is a good question. We have no actual specimen to study, so all we have is conjecture and hypothesis.”

“But what is your conjecture or hypothesis?”

“The organism survived without the blood, but flourished with it. The blood must not have been life sustaining… It was life enhancing. Beyond that,
we
do not know. As the blood-water was consumed, they became much stronger and healthier, recovering quickly from illness and more tolerant of sub-zero temperatures. They also found that fire used in cooking meat was no longer needed or desired as it robbed the meat of precious nutrients found in fresh blood, not to mention it charred the taste. This organism alone was not enough to sustain life; rather, it amalgamated with the white blood cells found in blood, enhancing their natural function of defending the body. They drank the water with greedy delight, but continued to hunt so that the water would have what it needed.

“As the village was built on a riverbank, this discovery caused the tribe to fortify their cave and settle within the cavernous abyss. The years passed and generations were born and died as they modified the cave system and made it their permanent home. Their numbers increased expediently because they mated like rats, not so different from today.” He says this as if a bitter taste floats in his mouth.

“Then, after 400 years of living and toiling within the darkened caves, a child was born that changed everything. He was akin to the others, but his eyes marked him as unfamiliar. They were the color of the blood-water. Their tribe had consumed so much of it that his DNA had assimilated with the primordial organism, causing his eyes to turn the lightest shade of green. Yet, that was just in appearance. The blood-water had transformed him into a blood-thirsty killer that was immune to diseases and the effects of aging with a metabolism so incredible that he had no reason to fear the harsh elements of the Ice Age.

“He was the first of our kind. He was raised in caution and secrecy due to his eye color; surely we both understand how primitive tribes would have reacted to children who were different. Again, not much has changed. The
Knosis
does say that, as he matured, others feared him because of his ‘fire skin’ and ‘sharp teeth.’ To protect him, his mother kept him discreet by picking off the old and sick of the tribe, but also feeding him the blood of farm animals. His appetite was voracious, comparable to one of our older ones. Luckily, there were over a thousand humans then and missing a couple was not an issue. So time moved on for everyone, except him.”