The Vampires' Birthright (35 page)

BOOK: The Vampires' Birthright
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I instinctively moved toward her, feeling the urge to cry myself.

“Give me another five minutes, and I should be done, Txema,” she said, after motioning for me to let her tears flow, and to not try to wipe them or comfort her as I wished to do. “My daughters learned to accept me in this state, and for the most part grew up to be wonderful women. However, Marissa suffered slight brain damage during one of the violent feedings when she was young. Racco and I knew she’d never be suitable for marriage since she was given to fits, so we created a haven for her to live out her days in a remote village far away from France in Kazakhstan. I continued to keep an eye on Jacqueline in Perpignan, and she eventually married a fisherman.

“At that time, Jacqueline was the only fertile woman alive who carried the birthmark and who could produce children…”

Chanson couldn’t finish, and I again tried to approach her. But she refused my gesture again.

“Let me finish… I can do this. I
must
do this!” she pleaded, to which I weakly nodded, too afraid to say anything as I feared whatever came out of my mouth would be the wrong thing. “I had never heard of Ralu, although obviously Gustav knew of his brother’s evil heart, and Racco had dealt with him from time to time over the centuries. He apparently also knew about our bloodline’s near extinction and had crept into the French Pyrenees with his small band of mongrel vampires. Unbeknownst to me, he had kept close watch on Jacqueline and waited until she was far along in her first pregnancy to strike. At dusk one night, and without warning, he and his band invaded her home. After savagely butchering and eating her husband in front of her, they tore my daughter and her unborn child to pieces. There was so much blood and I knew that he and his warriors had not drunk a bit of it, for fear it would begin to turn them like us. The only blood they drank came from her husband’s corpse.”

“Then, how did the birthmark survive?” I wanted to hear her version of the miracle that kept our bloodline alive.

“It is possible that a miracle did happen among my relatives, your direct ancestors,” said Chanson, wiping at her own eyes. “Several of them gave birth to baby girls and boys who bore the birthmark. I was obsessed with this, because of what happened after, and I have come to think that it is more likely that they were hidden survivors of massacres. Ralu was neither so cunning nor so thorough last time nor did he keep so tight a leash on his thralls and as you have seen, when they begin feeding they quickly lose focus.” Her voice turned bitter. “In any event, before that, the
miracle
was a single damaged girl, hidden away in a village and unknown to Ralu or his minions. They, we,
survived for a short time sharing Marissa’s blood and making terrible choices as to who was worthy of that blood. And then, before Ralu could do anything about it, several more children were born with the mark. By then, Gustav had begun to put together his kingdom, and his vampires nearly wiped out Ralu’s small army. Gustav imprisoned Ralu for years in Transylvania. It wasn’t until the full onset of the Victorian age that he relented to Ralu’s pitiful promises to reform, and released him. I guarantee that my maker would never be so merciful again, if presented the opportunity to end his brother Ralu’s existence once and for all.”

And with that last statement, delivered with an angry snarl, Chanson finished her story of what brought her to the present. A little different from what Kazikli told me, but it rang true. And, yes, I’m sure she has much more that could be shared, but woe unto any foolish enough to ask.

She allowed me to embrace her, and I honestly believe we became even closer that night. She let me wipe away her tears on my shirt, despite her protests for ruining the lovely outfit our hosts had given to me to wear that day. I couldn’t have cared less about it—Chanson’s comfort was my only concern.

Afterward, we walked and talked about the here and now, and she gave me her blessing to see Racco romantically if I so desired.

“Always remember that he will forever be young, and someday you won’t be.”

Chanson couldn’t have been more clear, and as for me, maybe joining her someday as a vampire? I never asked. Honestly, I hope there’s some other way to protect my baby girl from the same fate that happened to my ancestors.

As the moon descended toward watery horizon, I sent a prayer heavenward in the tradition taught to me by Yangani weeks earlier. A prayer for continued protection for my daughter and me, and for lasting peace and happiness for Chanson and the rest of my vampire friends.

he next few weeks were good for all of us on Racco’s hidden island in the Maldives.

A heart-to-heart talk with Racco the day after my conversation with Chanson led to the beginnings of courtship, although he agreed to take it slow. Long walks along the beaches would sometimes end with tender kisses, and he and I would discuss what a life together could be like. In a sense, we were more like good buddies who understood there was much more untapped beneath the surface. News of what was going on in the world of the escalating ‘vampire versus human problem’ became scarce, and I’m certain this was on purpose. Gustav made it clear that I wasn’t to worry about such things, unless the conflict spilled over into an outright war.

I prayed every day, fervently at morning and at night before I went to sleep, for peace. Peace that brought compassion to all living things and would be everlasting, as Yangani and Suddhodana had taught me to pray in Nepal.

I also prayed that Peter would be found alive and rescued from the demon Ralu, and that Garvan, Armando, Franz, and Kazikli would soon return to us in full health. Meanwhile, Chanson and my other female protectors continued their nightly forage into the surrounding islands. Tyreen had never looked happier, and even Raquel seemed more content than I’d seen her before. As the saying goes, pray for peace and prepare for war, so while my companions slept, I also worked on the two small tricks I had been taught. Shuffling my thoughts in the hopes of someday having a bit of privacy in my head without letting Racco dig around in my brain in the more physical sense, and continuing to work on altering my aura toward the ultraviolet spectrum.

I should also add that the bond between Chanson and I was definitely strengthened. If I could be sure my daughter would be safe and sound, I’d risk life and limb for my cousin if it ever became necessary. I had no doubt she’d do the same for me.

As for Alaia, she continued her miraculous growth rate, and by the time she was four weeks old, Racco and Chanson both confirmed she seemed at least three months along in her development—and maybe closer to four. I started to wean her away from formula, and she loved applesauce. Her hair had become thicker and longer, to where it curled in back above the nape of her neck. And her eyes started to change. They seemed a lot more hazel than brown these days.

Did I mention how every now and then I heard what sounded like ‘ma-ma’ coming out of her mouth?

It’s the kind of thing that gets me through the nights when she wakes up, more often lately from teething… but, there I was boring everyone with details every parent experiences, I’m sure, even if not as quickly as with a child like Alaia.

As our fourth week on the island began, our long lost vampire brothers showed up at the palace. I didn’t even realize what was happening until Tyreen and Chanson shrieked in joy and flew over to where Armando stood beneath the reception area’s tall arched entrance. They threw their arms around him, and a moment later, Franz and Kazikli appeared next to him. I was about to ask where Garvan was, but he startled me by appearing at my side.

“Hello, Txema,” he said.

The soft aroma of cinnamon wafted toward me, and I realized Chanson and the other girls’ aromas had been greatly muted, almost to where I was only faintly aware of their varied floral scents. Koimala and his brood of vampires didn’t have a fragrance, other than perhaps a sea salt and sand smell when in vampire form and a humid cat fur scent when shape shifting.


Garvan!

I shouted, as I rose to meet him. I threw my arms around his neck, and held on as tightly as I could, despite the coolness and rock-hard frame. “You’re finally back. Oh, thank God!”

He seemed hesitant to squeeze me back, and from his skin’s paleness, I could tell he hadn’t fed, or perhaps not enough. His clothes were dusty and the edges torn.

“You’re not well,” I said, worriedly. “Let me get Chanson over here, so she can take a look at you—”

“No!
I mean, no, that’s not necessary,” he said, brooding despite my excitement to see him. “I’ll be fine for now. There’s something we need to take care of with you first.”

“Like what?” I was leery of his words and his tone. Something was terribly wrong, and I feared even more what had happened on their trip. “What could you possibly want with me?”

I thought about it for a second and realized I knew.

Tears began to stream down my face, though which emotion unlocked them was less clear than the answer to my question.
“Peter!”

“What we need to do is take you to him,” said Kazikli, who appeared on my right side. I had been sitting with Racco, who bounced Alaia upon his knee. Garvan eyed Racco angrily while Kazikli merely glanced at him before continuing with me. “He is resting in the shallow caves on the other side of the island.”

Armando and Franz joined us. They all looked tired, pale, and deeply worried. It was only in seeing them all together did I realize their now-tattered garments had once been the splendid attire they had been wearing when we flew in from Nepal to Nashville.

Peter and his welfare were my main concern.

“Take me to him—I’m ready to go!”

“Let us go with you, Txema,” said Mohini, who appeared next to Franz on my right. “We know the shortcuts there, which will save you time and keep you from cutting yourself on the sharper rocks inside the caves.”

I had quickly grown to love Mohini. She and the other ladies of Koimala’s clan had welcomed my daughter and I as if we were honored guests rather than the desperate refugees we truly were. They were kind and gracious, and her lioness nature had been on display in protecting us as more and more of the European vampires had arrived on the island each night.

“No. Too many of us coming along with Txema would not be good,” said Kazikli. “Peter is a little confused, and he gets easily spooked.”

“He is a violent animal!” said Armando, shaking his head. I’m sure his disdain was directed at Kazikli’s sweetened description that I soon learned was highly inaccurate. “Like I said earlier, Kazikli, we should wait a day for him to settle down, and then arrange a meeting between him and our beloved child.”

Kazikli seemed to debate Armando’s request, silently, for a moment. Meanwhile, Racco mouthed to me if I’d like him to come along.

Garvan seethed, baring his fangs. “Have you not done enough already by whisking her away from our protection in Nashville?!”

“She and Alaia would’ve died had I not ‘whisked’ her away from trouble before it started that night,” said Racco, calmly. “I’m at least part of the reason they are still alive.”

I watched nervously as Garvan’s eyes grew dark and he hissed at Racco.

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