The Dark Gifts Birthright (6 page)

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Authors: Willow Cross

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BOOK: The Dark Gifts Birthright
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“As the Council gained control, the others
either joined them or were destroyed. The Council made no
concessions; the law was written in stone. The foremost of these
rules was keeping the secret. Every other law was built on that
primary law. For the first time in history, peace replaced chaos,
and vampires lived in anonymity.”

“That’s pretty vague.”

Raising an eyebrow, he glanced at her. “The
dead don't tell stories, Liz. Any who are defiant enough to prove
our existence to mortals, is put to death. And any mortal having
definite proof...”

Turning away, Liz gazed out the window. “So
you just murdered anyone who knew you were real. Wow. Some Council
you have there. I can see how that's so much better than the
previous situation.”

Michael sighed. “You need to try to
understand. In the modern world they call it collateral damage. And
there weren't all that many who died because of such knowledge.
Even back then, many humans found it difficult to believe. After a
while, the stories became just that. Stories.”

She nodded, folded her arms across her chest,
and refused to look at him.

He explained the connection and how, when
used properly, it would keep the new ones with the maker. It only
failed when a greedy or lonely vamp changed too many within a short
time. Those that had no connection could not be controlled. They
could not help themselves. Without the proper guidance of a maker,
their senses went into overdrive. They could not fight the power
within them and no one could rein them in.

“So this connection will not allow me to
leave you?”

“If you wanted too, you could leave. The
first few hours are extremely important. Those initial hours bind
the newly made to the maker. Some humans have strong minds and even
stronger wills. Those are the hardest to control. It is a fairly
sure bet that any human showing signs of aggression, or evil, will
be consumed by the inner darkness. That is why it is necessary for
the Council to evaluate each chosen partner. They no longer allow
the turning of humans who cannot be controlled.”

“What about me? What do you think they will
say about me?”

Michael removed one hand from the steering
wheel and patted her leg. “You are doing well. Extremely well. You
are the first newly made I’ve seen to completely quiet the darkness
without help. It is truly impressive.”

Liz sat, hands clenched tight around the seat
cushion and door handle, and listened. Her eyes closed as she tried
to process the previous onslaught of information. After several
minutes, her lids fluttered opened, and her gaze drifted to him.
“This is all real, isn’t it? I'm just having a hard time grasping
this. Even after everything I've seen and done.” She paused for a
moment, then sliding her body to the side, faced him. “Everything
you’ve just shown me is real, and I am really part of it now.” Her
voice barely registered above a whisper.

Michael glanced at her for a brief second
before answering. “Yes, you are as much a part of our past as you
are our future.” Overcome with guilt for what had happened to this
amazing woman, he looked away.

Being a vampire, Michael wasn’t prone to
feeling guilty about anything. He knew the connection was stronger
than what humans called love, but it was beginning to dawn on him
that somehow, in some way, he actually cared about Liz. Not just
because of the connection, there was something even stronger and
deeper going on. He was having the same trouble as she, focusing on
what needed to be done and said.

His eyes kept wandering over Liz. His hands
did not want to stay on the steering wheel. What they really wanted
to do was pull her close. He desired nothing more than to brush his
lips against her awaiting mouth. And if she didn’t stop flashing
that vivid image in his mind, he might end up doing just that. His
knuckles whitened as his fingers tightened on the steering
wheel.

“Are you okay?” Her soft words broke into his
thoughts.

“Yeah. Why?

“Nothing. Just…” Her voice trailed off as she
shrugged her shoulders. She turned away and watched the passing
scenery through the passenger side window.

They rode the rest of the way in silence.

As trees and the dotted yellow line in the
road flashed by, her thoughts turned to family and home. She
envisioned her mother at the stove standing over a large pot of
chili while her father restlessly read the newspaper at the kitchen
table. “Why hasn't she called? She calls every day,” her mother
would ask.

She imagined her father’s response. Without
glancing away from his coveted Wall Street section, he’d answer,
“She's fine, Momma. You know how young people are. She's off with
her friends having a good time is all. They do move out for a
reason.”

Sure, that's what's going on now, she
thought. But when the phone starts ringing and everyone wants to
know where I am, what then?
Liz stretched her mind, hoping she
could somehow make contact with them. The only thing she felt in
response was cold emptiness.
I'll be all right, mom. Don't
worry.
She hung her head in sorrow and wished she could
cry.

 

***

 

The digital clock on the dashboard flipped to
eleven just as they pulled into the parking lot of an old abandoned
lumberyard. He pulled the Nova between a red Jaguar and a black ’69
Mustang Fastback.

Her voice trembled with fear as she asked,
“Are we here already?”

“This is it. Looks like a full house
tonight,” he said with the irritating chuckle that she had somehow
grown fond of. “Everyone wants a ring side seat for tonight’s
festivities.”

“What festivities?”

He forced himself to look away from her. Her
face, her smell, her hair; he wanted so desperately to reach out
and pull her into his arms. Even under these dire circumstances, it
was difficult to think about anything else.

Michael shrugged and said, “Some have been
waiting a long time for this.”

“Why?”

“Because I am the Council assassin. It is my
duty to take the lives of those that break the law.”

“So you’re a vampire killer?” She looked
incredulous as she laughed. Her laughter cut off as she realized
what that meant. “Doesn’t that mean that most of those inside hate
you?”

“Most of those inside have lost others
because of me. They are here tonight hoping to see my head
roll.”

She shook her head. “No.” She didn't know how
she felt about him, but she knew that he wasn't to blame for her
situation. Not completely anyhow. And although she still harbored
some resentment, she didn’t want to see him die. He was a friend. A
friend?
Yes he is my friend. I don't want anything bad to happen
to him either.

He reached up and brushed her cheek with the
back of his fingers. It was softer than he remembered. “No matter
what happens tonight, believe me when I tell you that I had no
intention of bringing you into this, and I am sorry.”

He wrapped his hand around hers and together,
they walked toward the dilapidated structure. Michael felt a tug as
Liz stopped.

She brought her free hand to the side of her
head. Hundreds of voices whispered at once. Brief images flickered
in her mind before winking out.

“What is that? It's awful.”

“You’ll learn to block it.” Michael pulled on
her hand urging her to continue.

She pulled back. “No, wait. I'm not ready, I
need some time.” Fear and anger began to consume her. She felt the
darkness inside rise up, insidiously trying to gain control.

Michael waited as she regained composure.

Liz took a breath, straightened her
shoulders, and pushed against the instinctual rise. With a half
hearted smile, she shrugged. “Let's get this over with.”

The buzzing continued as they went inside,
then slowly the consistent hum defined until she could distinguish
words and phrases in the din of voices--

Her eyes snapped open. Liz heard faint
approving murmurs as the council members left her mind. The dull
ache in her head was replaced with a rhythmic pounding. Before her,
the small cloaked figure held out her hand.
“You will come with
me.”
Turning, she walked away.

Liz had no choice. Her body moved like a
puppet, and the woman ahead of her controlled the strings. They
didn’t go far. Had she known that she was so close to where the
others were staying, she would have remained quiet in her cell.
They passed five doors and turned into the sixth.

It looked nothing like her cell. Candles
glimmered and flickered all over the room. Sheets of maroon and
gold silk hung from the ceiling and covered the walls, giving it
the appearance of a prosperous sultan’s tent. Large decorative
urns, that must have been hundreds of years old, sat all around the
room. Several glass encased cabinets filled with collections of
silver goblets and candelabras lined the walls. Plush couches and
chairs were strategically placed here and there, and a giant bed
lavishly covered in maroon satin filled the back corner. An ornate
fire pit rested in the center of the room. Round and open with a
vent going up into the ceiling, it gave the room a homey feel. It
was a warm comfortable room. Something Liz hadn’t expected to see
in a vampire fortress.


You didn’t really think we slept in
coffins, did you?”
asked the woman.

A hint of a smile inundated her words. Not
the malice or coldness that Liz expected. As the woman removed her
cloak, Liz’s jaw dropped. She was even smaller than Liz originally
thought. Barely five foot tall. Fragile and elegant, she looked
like a miniature Greek goddess. The natural vampyric pallor was
underlying in her skin, giving the woman an unnatural sun-kissed
glow reminiscent of polished bronze. However, Liz could tell by her
features that her skin tone in life would have been much darker.
Ebony hair cascaded down her back to her waist in perfectly formed
ringlets. Eyes, black as coal, barely blinked as they gazed upon
her, yet they seemed loving and kind. Her lips, in contrast to the
creamy caramel of her skin appeared the darkest of burgundies.
No human woman could ever be that beautiful
, she
thought.

“But I am not human,” the woman smiled as she
spoke. Her voice was warm and friendly, still having the undertones
of a wise mother talking to her child.

“My name is Athena. A bath has been prepared
for you and there are clean clothes on the table. You must be
nearly famished; by the fire on that stand is something to drink.
It is fresh from my personal stock. It should still be quite warm
if you wish to partake of it now.”

“Athena, like the goddess?”

“Yes, exactly like that.”

Liz's mind raced as she tried to decipher the
comment.
The real Athena? From mythology? Is that even
possible?
In this new world with real demons and monsters, she
supposed just about anything could be possible.

“I don’t understand what's going on. Is this
my last supper? When are you going to kill me?”

Athena smiled and said, “Dear child, we have
no intention of killing a rare specimen such as yourself. We have
been waiting for one such as you for thousands of years. There have
been many stories passed down from the dawn of our time about
humans who have the potential to turn almost spontaneously, and
none of us have ever encountered one before.”

“I don’t understand. Why the trial? Where is
Michael? Why was I locked away for so long?” Relief flooded her,
but she was once again full of questions and still totally
lost.

“It was a test of sorts. We had to be certain
you would follow the law. More importantly, we had to discover if
Michael would continue to obey, even under the influence of the
connection. We are not monsters anymore, Elizabeth. We are
honor-bound to protect all of those we rule, and ensure that all
recognize they must abide by the law.”

She turned and was instantly beside Liz,
patting her arm.

“No more questions now, all will be answered
in time. Regain your sustenance and clean up. You are quite a
mess.” Athena moved across the room, pulled back a rectangular
piece of burgundy satin hanging on the wall, and fastened it to a
wrought iron fitting encased in the stone. Behind it, candles lit a
small room. “The water is hot and ready. I've taken the liberty of
acquiring fresh clothes for you. I'm afraid they are not quite your
normal attire, but they'll do in a pinch. Hurry now, we will join
you shortly.”

In a blink she was gone and the door was
shut.

Liz walked to the door and checked the
handle. It wasn’t locked. The door opened just as smoothly and
quietly as her cell door had. Peeking out, she noticed no guards at
the door. Not a soul in sight as far as she could see down the
passage. Maybe she wasn’t a prisoner anymore. Looking around the
room, she caught her reflection in a mirror draped in fine dark
silk. She was a mess. Dirt streaked jeans, and tattered,
blood-stained shirt combined with the rat’s nest that used to be
flowing red hair, left her looking like an escapee from an insane
asylum.

The smell of the carafe by the fire pulled
her in that direction. The burn in her throat had returned. Liz
walked over and gulped down the warm nectar. It was good!
Intoxicating and sweet, it soothed the fire and awakened her
senses. After draining every last drop, she set about taking a hot
bath.

 

Chapter Four

The Unnamed

 

Clean, refreshed, and dressed in a long
emerald green gown, she sat on the couch by the fire and waited.
Her fingers tapped rhythmically against the arm of the couch while
her legs swayed side to side. Their idea of shortly and hers did
not coincide at all. Just when she thought she was about to go out
of her mind, she felt a mental nudge. He was close. Her body filled
with a new warmth the fire could not provide.

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