The Dark Gifts Birthright (9 page)

“I will kill you, Monroe,” Michael hissed
back. “Right where you stand, I will kill you if you ever liken her
to a dog again!”

“What if they make it out of the fortress,
Gregorio? How do we keep the secret then?” Athena asked.

“They will never make it out,” Gregorio’s
strong voice sounded confident. “Michael, you need to go hunt. It
is your place to do so, regardless of Liz’s condition. We reached
her in time. She will heal. If any of our own are lost because of
this incident, you and Liz will be in great danger. Even the Eldest
will not come to your aid.”

Liz opened her eyes and searched for Michael.
He was beside her in an instant. “You have to go, this is all my
fault.” Liz mustered the closest thing to a smile that she
could.

“I can’t leave you,” he said.

“You have no choice,” she answered softly.
Grimacing in pain, her voice turned bitter. “Kill every last one of
them.”

Gregorio laughed and the tension in the room
seemed to ease. “It didn’t take her long to become a full-fledged
vampire, did it?” He laid a hand on Michael’s shoulder saying, “I
will not leave her until you return. Go do what you must.”

Michael gave Liz one last searching look,
bent down and kissed her, and was out the door in a flash. Athena
sighed and sat beside her pushing strands of hair out of her face.
“That was a close call, my dear. You gave us quite a start. How did
you end up in the dungeon? That was definitely not on your
tour.”

Liz glanced at Monroe standing in the open
doorway. Finally having a face to put with the evil sounding voice,
she was stunned by the familiarity of it. Something about this
particular monster seemed strangely familiar. The word monster
described him perfectly. Unlike his brother vampires, Monroe had no
unearthly beauty. Ghostly white skin stretched tight across his
tall skeletal frame. Long stringy hair as pale as his flesh hung
limply around his face. His pale, icy blue eyes looked more alien
than human. Although his face and voice rang familiar, his hands
were even more so. His fingers were extremely long and thin, ending
in razor-sharp, pointed nails that gave his hands the appearance of
claws. His countenance was the embodiment of a long unthought-of
nightmare from her childhood.

It was unsettling to think that somewhere in
her early youth she might have met up with this fiend. As she
stared at Monroe, his loathsome gaze washed over her. He did not
even attempt to conceal his hatred. Turning away, she focused on
Athena. Without knowing who was involved in the conspiracy against
the Council, she needed to be cautious with her answer.

“I really don’t know how I got there,” Liz
said, her voice soft and laden with guilt. “I was just wandering
around looking at everything, and then I got lost. I saw the doors
with bars and decided to look into one of the windows.”

“And what, pray tell, made you think you had
the right to stick your nose in such matters?” Monroe questioned.
His eyes glinted with malice as disgust resonated in his voice.

Gregorio turned and glowered at Monroe until
he gave a curt bow and left. “Liz, you’re not off to a very good
start here,” he said kindly. “I thought I was clear earlier when I
explained what a problematic situation this is for Michael. We do
not want you to feel like a prisoner here, this is your home now.
However, you cannot meddle in matters which are not your
concern.”

Liz wished she could talk to Gregorio alone
and tell him why she’d ended up there in the first place, but she
didn’t know if Athena could be trusted.

Athena cocked her head to the side and gave
her a curious look. “Hmm,” she murmured.

“Hmm, what?” Gregorio asked.

“I can’t read her, can you?”

He looked at Liz for a moment before breaking
into another smile. “Well done child. You are rapidly improving
your skills. Some take centuries to learn to close off their
minds.”

Liz moved restlessly wanting to avoid any
more questions about her thoughts. “I’m sorry. I truly am. I
promise it will never happen again,” she said with a weak smile.
Moving slowly, she sat up in the bed and inched her feet towards
the floor.

“Oh no you don’t!” Athena ordered. “You will
stay in this bed until Michael returns, unless you’d rather have a
hot bath? You’re a mess
again
. That’s twice in one day.”

“I think I would love a hot bath, but first
tell me…what was that thing?”

Athena looked askance at Gregorio. The
subject was taboo, even among the elders. He nodded and she began
to explain. “We do not usually speak of them. They are Methuselah’s
Children, but generally, they are called the unnamed. It is
exceedingly heartbreaking. Not every human turned manifests the
change properly. Sometimes the human becomes fully vampire with
human emotionality. They all have vampire strengths and
characteristics, but do not have the power to control the baser
emotions of fear and rage. Without that ability, they lose their
minds and become monstrous.”

A spasm of pain rushed through Liz's body
causing her to shake. Gregorio moved to her side with a goblet of
warm blood. “Drink this. It will help you to heal.”

“I'm okay.”

“No you are not, as you say, okay. You are
injured. Only blood and rest will heal you now,” he said and placed
the glass firmly in her hand. Turning to Athena, he said, “Maybe
that's enough for now. The child's been through more than enough
for one day.”

“Of course, she--”

“No. Please tell me the rest. I want to
know.” Eyes pleading, Liz took a sip of the healing elixir.
Immediately, warmth rushed through her. In awe, she watched as the
cuts on her arms began to close and scar. With each sip, injuries
faded until they were no more. Draining it, she handed the goblet
to Athena. “I'm being a good girl. Please tell me the rest.”

Athena sighed and continued, “The thirst
overwhelms them. It is a hideous thing to have a connection with
one such as those. The maker is allowed to choose either death for
his companion, or they can be imprisoned here. A connection with
the turned is not reciprocated. It is agonizing for the maker to
keep the turned alive because he is connected to nothing but rage,
hate, and thirst. In spite of this, for some, the pain of their
death and the loss of connection is equally torturous. So they stay
here in the dungeon. Locked away to prevent them from doing any
harm. Many cannot stand to be separated from their turned, so they
visit them frequently. Others never come at all and leave them to
rot in their cells.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier and safer for them all
to die?” Liz asked.

Athena sadly replied, “Safer is not always
easier. You feel it, could you sentence Michael to death?”

Just the thought produced a swelling sadness
in Liz’s chest. She shook her head.

Athena smiled, knowing Liz understood the
predicament. “No more talk now. You sleep, it will help you
heal.”

Liz closed her eyes thinking she'd never be
able to fall asleep, but within seconds her mind began to drift
into darkness. Her last memory was of Athena caressing her cheek
while mumbling something she couldn't quite understand.

Chapter Five

Surviving the Cause

Liz woke to an empty room. Sometime during
her sleep, someone had bathed and dressed her in a clean nightgown.
She stretched slowly to see if the pain that had bombarded her the
last time she awoke, was still dormant in her body. She felt
wonderful, totally regenerated. The thirst was building, but she
was controlling it. It was not the same over powering lust for
blood she’d felt in the beginning. She heard a mental giggle right
before Angie appeared at the door.

Standing in the doorway, smiling shyly, Angie
looked expectantly at Liz. “Do you want to be alone?”

“The last thing I need is solitude. Come on
in.” Liz smiled. “How long have I been out?”

“Two whole days! I thought you were never
going to wake up. Are you okay? It’s all my fault, it really is. I
should have never left you here alone. If mother hadn’t called me,
I would have stayed. I love talking to you. Are you mad at me?” The
words tumbled out of her mouth.

Liz laughed as she reached out and pulled
Angie on the bed to hug her.

“It’s not your fault, silly. I’m too nosy for
my own good.”

Angie smiled her big cruise ship director’s
smile and threw her arms around Liz. Then the chattering began. She
told Liz that Michael had been gone the entire time she’d slept,
but had been checking on her often. She filled her in on everything
she missed during those two days as well. Who was fighting with
whom about the whole disaster, and what was being said amongst the
council members. She rattled off so many names that Liz started
wondering just how many lived in the fortress. The Council was
divided on what should be done about Liz’s transgression. Some
argued that she should be punished and Michael as well, while
others blamed it on Liz not being thoroughly informed in the first
place.

Gregorio was the leader of the faction that
wanted it dropped and left alone. Monroe led the witch-hunt against
them.

“They are all taking sides now.” Angie said
softly as she looked around the room. She leaned in closer and
whispered, “You don’t have to worry though. The Eldest is on our
side. He won’t let anything happen to you or Michael. They need you
both, you know.”

Angie leaned back as Liz sat up, reached out
to fluff the pillows behind her, and pushed her back against
them.

“I'm not worried about that. Where is he? How
long will he be gone? I want to know when I can see him again.” She
still needed to tell him about the conversation she’d overheard in
the tunnel.

“I don’t know. I know he’ll come back as soon
as he can. He checks on you all the time. Almost hourly.” she
giggled.

“Checks with who?”

“Well me of course! Who did you think?”
Angie’s eyes sparkled as her smile widened.

“Why doesn’t he just check with me?”

“He doesn’t want to wake you up silly. You
are supposed to be resting. Remember? Anyway, let me tell you a
story about Michael. This one time about--oh I don’t know for
sure--maybe twenty-five years ago, we were out on this…” It went on
like that for hours.

Michael was a topic that Angie loved to talk
about. She gushed with stories about things he had said and done.
Every few years, Athena would allow Angie to live among humans. The
old gloomy fortress could become depressing for a young girl, even
if she was a vampire. When the time came for her to go out into the
world again, Michael was her designated protector. Angie told Liz
all about Michael’s sense of humor, his likes and dislikes; she
even knew his favorite hunting grounds and what type of human he
preferred.

Although she had plenty of stories from the
past to tell her, try as she might, Liz couldn’t pry any
information about where he was right now or what he was doing out
of her. Angie would not be budged. Someone, probably her mother,
had given her a direct order to keep his whereabouts and activities
completely concealed. If Liz attempted to bring up the topic, Angie
would sweetly answer, “Just a few more days, and he’ll be home. I’m
sure he’ll tell you all about it then.”

Liz spent those days with Angie. Whatever her
responsibilities had been before, she had been relieved of them by
those higher up, and set with the task of babysitting Liz. Except
for missing Michael and worrying about him, Liz enjoyed her time
with the girl. Angie was so full of life and spontaneity that she
kept Liz’s mind occupied most of the time. She told her the entire
goings on of vampires in and outside of the complex. She even told
her ghost stories.

Apparently, several ghosts resided among the
vampires. Angie didn’t know where some of them had come from or how
they happened to settle there, but she could see all of them.

A vampire telling ghost stories can be
chilling to say the least, and Angie was full of them. According to
her, spirits roamed the old tunnels constantly. Some were just
mischievous, but others bore malicious intent. Malevolent or not,
they were of no harm or consequence to the vampires of course, but
to humans, they would have been deadly. Angie’s favorite ghost
story involved a young deceased soldier named William. He died on
the land above the fortress during the civil war. He had stumbled
onto the property seriously injured and died on the ground above.
After his death, he had somehow ended up in the tunnels below and
had latched on to Angie. She talked to him every day. Even though
her mother frowned on her fraternizing with ghosts, Angie and
William had become good friends. “Now not all vampires can see
ghosts, but I am special,” Angie proudly told Liz.

“That is remarkable.”

“Even when they don’t want me to see them, I
can.”

“Really? What do you mean by they don’t want
to be seen?” Liz asked.

“Well, ghosts are mostly tricksters. Most
don’t like for people, even our kind of people, to know they are
around. They can show themselves to anyone…if they want too. It
takes a lot out of them though to materialize like that. William is
quite good at it. They don’t have to materialize for me. I can see
them whether they are doing it or not.”

“Wow. I bet your mother utilizes your skills
frequently.” Liz smiled.

“You’d think that wouldn’t you? Do you know
she doesn’t even believe in ghosts?” Angie shrugged her shoulders
and moved closer to the fire.

“How is that even possible?” Liz laughed.

“She thinks I made them up. And William is no
help at all. He refuses to materialize in front of her.” Angie
grabbed the fireplace poker and hacked at the burning wood. Sparks
hissed, buzzing back and forth before floating up the chimney.