The Dark Proposal (The Claire McCormick Trilogy) (22 page)

Over the course of five years, Antolos sired a eighteen children. Some were girls, others did not last long. Once the five years passed, there were five boys he could call his sons. Their names were Vorternon, Elleso, Azuelo, Gosheven, and Casames. Each boy was physically strong and quick at their hunting. Some were capable of gaining great knowledge in governing, while the others knew how to strike fear into the tribespeople and make them obey their father.

Eventually, it was time for them to be obeyed. When they were late in adolescence, Antolos died of illness. As sons of the deceased chief, they all stood a chance to be elected to become the new leader of the tribe. Debates were held among the elders and the priests. Hunting and fighting contests were held. After nearly a season, it was decided the eldest, Vorternon would be the chief. It was no surprise. He was tall, wise, and fair in his judgment. Although he was the leader of all, the young man, who was only eighteen at the time, treated his brothers as his closest advisors. He had them by his side at all times, and not out of fear. All five of them were together and believed as long as they were, their tribe would succeed.

That belief proved true. In the years following Vorternon’s election, the tribe had an abundance of crops, perfect fish gathering, and won many battles against other tribes. The tribespeople had the brothers to thank for their lack of rivalry did not tear them apart, and they regularly honored them.

Soon, those honors became more and more frequent. The people would part paths, bow or even grovel before Vorternon and his brothers. The tribe was at its zenith, and nothing could stop it. The tribe completely believed the five brothers were godsends.

But then, within two years of Vorternon becoming chief, strange disappearances began to happen in the tribe. At first, it was the criminals or prisoners of wars, who would be tied up in a hut one day and be gone the following morning. It was odd but the people weren’t too worried as long as they did not come back.

Then more disappearances occurred, and they were that of the elderly or young children. Soon, healthy adults were vanishing. The people were frightened.

Turning to their chief and his brothers, the tribespeople were told by Vorternon that a demon must be haunting the tribe and prayers to the gods must increase. He told his people to ask the deities to give him and his brothers strength and power to deal with the demon. When the priests warned him that meant being as strong and powerful as the gods, the chief insisted that was the point.

About a year after the first criminal disappeared, a novice shaman witnessed Vorternon and his brothers alone in the woods one night. They were saying odd prayers and performing unfamiliar rituals around a fire. Then a young child, which had been wrapped in a black cloth, was brought forward and stabbed in its belly. One by one, the brothers took turns drinking from the boy until there was no more blood to drink. Horrified, the novice told his superiors, and one of them approached Vorternon the next morning.

The head priest, who’s name was Hatagos, confronted Vorternon as he ate his morning meal in his large hut. Two of his brothers, Elleso and Casames, were there eating with him. The priest knew questioning the chief in front of his two bully brothers was not going to be easy, but blasphemy had been reportedly committed and there needed to be answers.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” was Vorternon’s response.

“My lord,” Hatagos tried again. “My novice who is very honest and loyal to me, told me what he saw out in the woods when he went to meditate. The young man is not a liar or I would not have accepted him as a novice.”

“Are you accepting the words of a boy who has no status over the words of your chief?” Elleso asked. “Where do your loyalties lie?”

He, Vorternon and Casames glared at the priest, who bowed in his head in surrender and walked out of the hut.

But Hatagos, his novice, and other members of the priesthood were deeply suspicious. They watched the brothers carefully for the next several weeks and whispered to the people of the demon haunting the tribe. The priest, not the chief and his brothers, had to be told if anything bizarre happened for it was they that could rid the tribe of the demon.

Finally, in the middle of a summer night, a young man raced to the head priest’s hut, woke him and told him about the demon who had tried to take his wife’s mother. The demon was described as a tall, muscular man dressed in black.

Hatagos ran to Vorternon’s hut, but there was no one there, save for his two sleeping wives. The neighboring huts that housed his brothers were also empty. Hatagos had his answer.

Gathering the able male members of the tribe, he led a hunt for the brothers. His novice was the main guide, even though it had been weeks since the young man saw the forbidden ritual deep in the woods. But the novice proved to be worthy guide.

There in a clearing were the brothers, all naked and wearing the heads of wolves and deer on their heads. They were gathered around a fire and each had large bowls at their feet. Vorternon was carrying a large knife, which the tribesmen could see had been used often. His brothers, Azuelo and Gosheven were beside him, one holding the old woman they almost failed to get. The woman was bound and gagged. Vorternon was chanting about the gods giving him and the others their strength and power.

The tribesmen at first were stunned that their chief and his brothers were performing such a ritual for unknown purposes that involved the killing of their own people. But then one of them stepped on a twig, setting off a loud snap that halted Vorternon’s chants. Then the action began. The men charged toward them, hurling their spears.

But they did not know how quick and strong the brothers had become. The spears were either caught in mid air or they stepped casually from the volley. One of the spears stabbed the bound woman. The brothers then took the other spears, turned them around and threw them back at the running men. The men were fatally pierced.

Hatagos stopped just a few feet from the brothers. Anger and fear were in the eyes of the priest, and he did not know what to do. Slowly he stepped forward.

“My lords,” Hatagos said in a carefully controlled voice. “Stop this madness at once. This is blasphemy and against the will of the gods. Never have they told me of such rituals, and I am the closest to them -”

“You are wrong,” Vorternon said, knife still in hand. “We are closer. We have been getting closer for some time now, and tonight, we’ll be closer than ever.”

“How is this so?” Hatagos tried to ignore Vorternon’s slow, dangerous tone.

“The blood of our people is giving us eternal life,” the eldest continued. “Just as we want it. They are also giving us powers you’ve never dreamed of.”

To prove his point, Vorternon began darting around the clearing in literally a blink of an eye. He first appeared by the priest’s side, and then behind his brothers. He stopped when he appeared in the spot where he stood before.

Hatagos was aghast. He along with the tribe had spent nearly three years exalting these five, believing they were blessed by the gods. Now they were, but it was as though they were being blessed by something like a demon.

Hatagos struggled to speak and the brothers were amused. Finally, he got his words out.

“My lords, this cannot be the work of the gods. The gods would not permit a mortal to be like them. They never had and they never will.”

“Never?” Vorternon smirked. Turning to the others, he asked them, “Brothers, would you say this old priest is envious of the gods favoring us so that they are allowing us to be their equals?” They laughed or nodded in agreement. “Perhaps then, he should see for himself.”

Before the priest knew what was happening, the chief and three of the brothers were standing front of him. They grabbed and dragged him to the fire, where they all encircled him.

Standing over him, Vorternon turned him over and stripped him.

“Brothers, this is our chance. We’ve wanted eternal life. We’ve wanted to be like the gods. Now we have the perfect sacrifice to them, one of their servants. Let us make the offering to our gods - those who are pleased with us - and may it signal to them that we are ready to be like them.”

Bowing their heads, the brothers listened as Vorternon chanted a prayer unknown to the priest, who was panting with fright and confusion. He had spent nearly all his life dedicating himself to the gods and knew what was happening was not their will. A member of the tribe, let alone someone who served the gods, would not be made into an offering. His dedication was enough; his blood was not needed.

The chief was still chanting, calling the gods to enter the body of Hatagos so their essence could be devoured by him and his brothers.

He muttered a few words, then he spoke louder and louder. Loud enough to interrupt Vorternon’s chanting.

“You will be doomed. Curse you, curse you all! May the gods have their revenge, and the people of our tribe have theirs!”

Sneering, Vorternon leaned down to the priest’s ear. “May your curse fail.”

He then took his long knife and stabbed the old man in the collarbone, sliding it down to his belly. The wound let out a flood of blood, which delighted the brothers. They lunged for the blood and started drinking. They sucked the blood eagerly, pausing only to praise the gods. The priest kept cursing them, until he could speak no more.

But before the blood of Hatagos was sucked dry, there was a sudden lurch in the bodies of the brothers that caused them to pull away from the corpse. Gasping, they all stumbled back, bent over with their hands at their abdomens. Agonizing pain was overwhelming them and they could not stop crying out. It was as though their insides were tearing at them.

Their breathing came heavily and their hearts pounded loudly in their ears. Their heads felt as though they would burst from the hammering feeling pulsing away. For a moment, some of the brothers wondered to themselves if the gods really were cursing them, just as the priest had said.

Then, as suddenly as it began, the pain was gone. It had flown away like a hawk, done with its feeding, and all was still and quiet.

Too quiet it seemed, for the brothers could no longer feel their hearts beat anymore. They felt cold and empty.

But as soon as they opened their eyes and saw a new world before them, that no longer mattered. They were seeing things they had never seen before. They could hear what was previously unheard. They had become like the gods, just as they wished.

Delighted, the brothers celebrated for hours, dancing, singing and playing with their newfound powers. Their time had come at last. Their people had treated them like gods since day one of their lives, and now they finally were.

But the celebration did not last long. As the sky began to show the beginnings of daylight, the brothers’ skin began to turn red. Gray smoke began to rise on their skin and it looked as if they were cooking alive in the sun. The pain they had experienced earlier returned.

Frightened, they fled from the sun into a nearby cave their tribe used for initiation rituals. They stayed there all day until the night came. They emerged, consumed with thirst and anger. The brothers hunted down members of the tribe and drank from them. They all turned into the demons they had warned their people about. They had become creatures of the night rather than something like the gods. The brothers felt betrayed.

But soon, they realized how powerful and god-like they had become. Their senses were beyond anything they had ever dreamed of. Their physical strength was more than five men put together. They could seduce any man or woman at a glance. They could also bend the minds of other people and make them do their will. And best of all, they were immortal, living forever.

As for never seeing the sun again, the five eventually took advantage of that. It felt exhilarating to be the demons of the night. Knowing they struck fear into mortals everywhere they went made them feel unstoppable. The power of the night was at their hands and they could do whatever pleased them. They had indeed become invincible beings.

Claire was frozen. She could barely absorb what she just learned.

Daniel’s hand was gently rubbing her shoulder, and Casames was watching her.

“Yes, it is a lot to take in,” the ancient vampire said. “But that is how we got here, how we had lived through the centuries, and how we will remain. There is no stopping us. Nothing has ever gotten into our path because we are too strong, too quick, too powerful.” He smiled at her. “You should be delighted about Daniel’s offer for you to join us.”

Claire sat in her chair, still barely moving. Then she realized Casames’ last words were a question, and she flinched.

“Claire McCormick,” the head vampire leaned towards her. “Do you wish to join us, leave your mortal world behind, and be something you never thought possible?”

The room felt as if it would collapse from the weight of the moment that rested in Claire’s hands. She had to answer, even though her throat was dry,

“Yes,” she whispered at first. Then louder. “Yes.”

Casames smiled and leaned back on the couch. He said to the rest of the assembled vampires. “Since I have my trust in Daniel’s insight and judgment, tonight I announce my acceptance of Claire McCormick into our fold. By the end of this week, in Paris at Vorternon’s home, she will be made into one of us. We will have our grand ceremony, and the transformation will take place.” He gave a deep nod to say his word was final.

Daniel squeezed Claire’s shoulder as some of the others smiled and applauded. Hilde simply glanced at her and gave a short grin.

Claire forced a smile, but could not make herself appear to be at ease. She knew everyone was seeing this and was probably doubting if she could be made one of them. If that were the case, maybe they would decide not to do so. After all, why waste their energy on making her a vampire when she couldn’t live the life?

But that would mean making her a slave, of course. She knew too much. What choice did she have?

Then she noticed Casames was staring at her with a smirk on her face. She almost gasped in fright. Why did she allow her mind to wander in this room filled with mind readers?