The Vampires' Birthright (5 page)

xema, it’s time for you to awaken.” Chanson’s voice dragged me out of a very deep slumber.

She was staring at me with those intense green eyes that glowed behind her dark bangs. The only other light in the room came from other sets of eyes; blue, lavender, and four other green ones, which meant Armando, Raquel, Garvan and Tyreen were with her.

“Where are we?” I was still groggy with sleep. “What’s going on?”
“You have an appointment with the big bosses!” Armando said, moving in closer to where I could see more than his eyes. “You’ll have to get your beauty sleep later!
Chop-chop!”

“Why is it so dark in here?”

I forced myself to sit up in my bed. My head throbbed, and I wasn’t sure if it was from lack of sleep or some fragmented and unremembered nightmare I had awakened from.

“Oh, come on, damn it—Txema ain’t like us. She can’t see worth shit without a light on!” said Tyreen. Clothing rustled near my bedchamber door, and then soft yellow light filled the room from the lone overhead lamp. “There, that’s gotta be better, right?”

I blinked and squinted. Yes. Much.

They all stood around my bed, my team of protectors. Only at the moment, they seemed more like impish tormentors, as all five wore Cheshire smiles. All had changed their wardrobe, and most favored the hard-rockin’ Gothic look I had witnessed on several previous occasions, as if they wanted to ensure our Chinese hosts took them seriously as creatures of the night. More likely, though, I suppose it felt more comfortable, and nothing beyond that. Being ‘comfortable’ seemed especially true for Raquel who wore a white silk cheongsam covered with cherry blossoms.

Chanson held out a dark green cheongsam for me as well. Perhaps the traditional attire was intended to demonstrate my appreciation and, I don’t know, subservient status to the Chinese emperor. Were I not so tired I would have been grumpy.

“Does she even have time to change?” Armando pointed to the clock radio. “We have less than six minutes before the meeting starts, promptly at three o’clock!”

“That gives us just enough time… provided Txema fully cooperates and doesn’t squawk about having to wear sandaled heels to go with her dress,” said Chanson. As she had the previous night on the plane, she silenced my additional questions with her forefinger. “Hold those thoughts, my dear, or we
will
be late!”

Really, I was more concerned with how cold it would be outside the toasty comfort of my bedchamber. Knowing we would have to travel through the frigid main floor in order to reach the meeting place wasn’t exactly something to get excited about.

Chanson motioned for me to stand once my shoes were on, and Garvan brought me the jacket I wore earlier. I zipped it up tight. If nothing else, it doubled the protection around my neck, since the cheongsam’s neckline came up past my birthmark. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about a room full of vampires lusting after my exposed throat.

“Wrap your arms around my waist, cousin, and we’ll be on our way!”

She didn’t feel near as cold as she had earlier, and looked flushed. She had finally fed. While my thoughts about the logistics of opening the heavy bedchamber door and then navigating the hallway and stairs were still in their infancy, my surroundings became a blur. I was briefly aware of my door opening and an abrasive draft of chilly air that steadily grew colder.

Once downstairs, we raced through the main floor’s long corridor, accelerating until everything became unrecognizable. I caught the occasional landmark glimpse of marble pillars, granite walls, and the fleeting face of an Asian child as we sped through the building.

The air grew incredibly cold, but only for a moment as we went outside, and then the air warmed again as we passed through an immense archway and into a massive building that contained some kind of greeting hall. It was bright enough in here that I had to squint, but I heard the susurration of a lot of voices. As my eyes adjusted, I saw that we were inside a grand hall and with us were dozens, if not a hundred others. Vampires, mostly European but some of our Chinese hosts were among the number as well.

“We’re here!” Chanson announced. My head ached for a moment, and it took a valiant effort to keep my stomach’s contents from pouring out of my mouth.

“And, look, we are indeed the last ones to arrive, with, hmmm… maybe thirty seconds to find a seat before this little convention begins!” Armando spoke through a grin, but shot an irritated look at Chanson.

She did her best to ignore him, but her grip on my hand tightened as she led us into the throng. His little barb angered her.

“It appears we’ll be standing after all,” said Garvan, hustling through the crowd to catch up to us.

He was right; I didn’t see any open chairs before us, but it hardly mattered. This was by far the most ostentatious area I’d seen in the palace. My companions agreed, as I heard several polite murmurs of ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ among them. Raquel and Tyreen wore childlike expressions of wonder as they sought to move up closer to the immense gilded stage where two heavily jeweled thrones sat unattended.

Like everywhere else in the palace thus far, there were dragons―both in sculptures and paintings. In this case, the detailed reptiles were adorned in gold and the eyes were made up of different colored jewels the size of my thumb. They covered the walls and several of the fountain sculptures throughout the great hall. The twisting body of one enormous dragon loomed above the pair of thrones. Other than that, the marble columns, inlaid floors, and walls were the same as the main building’s first level—only on a grander scale of artisanship.

Meanwhile, the multitude in attendance watched me. Most were familiar; I recognized them from le Chateau de Douleur. Unlike those happier times for them, when every night was like a Mardi Gras celebration and they were glad to see me, they now regarded me warily. Many of them seemed to be shell-shocked. Chanson had explained to me that change was not something that came easily to the immortals, and to have it thrust upon them was very uncomfortable. She assured me that it wouldn’t last and that I would just have to be patient with them.

What surprised me the most―and here as well―were the glares of outright hostility that met us, more specifically
me
, from some of the Europeans. As if it was my fault that the party came screeching to a halt?

I guess it didn’t matter that they would be partying on borrowed time, since my bloodline was the only thing preventing them from becoming monstrous Chupacabras. In a matter of time, they’d all be the same—which is Ralu’s goal. They wouldn’t have to worry about receiving refuge invitations from their Chinese brethren.

“They don’t all hate you,” whispered Garvan from behind me. “You have more friends among us than enemies.”

I whirled around to face him while Chanson continued to drag me through the crowd. He smiled, and I felt grateful he kept pace. It engendered a sense of peace to see his determination to stay close to me. Not that my immortal cousin’s treatment of me as her little sister didn’t help create that same feeling of well-being. It just meant something extra to have this gorgeous male vampire also stay the course with me. I needed them both to get through the profound uncertainty I found myself floating in. I caught the thought as it bubbled to my mind, and I wondered again if it was pheromones or simple hormones from the pregnancy. This attraction was, at this point, becoming a distraction I would have to ask Chanson about when we had some girl time. I was beginning to doubt whether I would trust my feelings and when it came right down to it, whether I could trust myself.

We almost made it to the front, where Tyreen and Raquel excitedly called to us, acting like a pair of groupies at a Taylor Swift concert. But before we could join them, out of nowhere, the kings of our immortal gathering flew onto the lavish platform. I thought the restless crowd might erupt into a fervor rivaling the feel of that concert, and prepared myself for the possible crush of their bodies. Luckily, it didn’t happen.

Pomp and circumstance are handled differently among those who have been witness to such excesses from century to century, I suppose. Rather than an eruption of applause and spirited emotion, a deathlike stillness encompassed the entire room.

Dressed in their full raiment as vampire royalty, in rich colorful robes of the finest silk and inlaid gemstones, the pair moved over to their thrones and sat. Gustav and Huangtian Dadi were roughly the same height, but Gustav’s pope-like crown was a few inches shorter than the gold pagoda crown adorning Huangtian Dadi’s head.

To the best of my knowledge, Gustav Domnul-delael was the oldest vampire in the world, unless someone else predated his ‘turning birth,’ back when Mesopotamian civilizations flourished. Yes, he’s nearly five thousand years old. I always found his appearance to be somewhat frightening in comparison to much younger vampires like Chanson, Armando, and Garvan.

Gustav’s skin was as white as alabaster, and after a feeding, it became almost pink with slightly more blushing upon his cheeks. I’ve heard he can crush a man’s bones with the slightest touch, and yet when he held my hand to guide me to my place of honor at the celebration table in Racco’s castle last week, he did so as delicately as a newborn baby holding its mother’s fingers.

It’s the eyes that frightened me the most. They are like two matching kaleidoscopes where the color shifts like fractals between every brilliant shade of blue one can imagine and pure gold. Impossible to read accurately, I worry sometimes about the monster that lies dormant behind those eyes, behind the serene and fatherly façade. I’d never want to be the one to awaken it.

As for Huangtian Dadi, his appearance was similar to Gustav’s—at least in the sense of lifeless skin tone. Unlike Gustav, however, this ancient vampire liked to wear makeup. I’m sure of it. His cheeks and chin each had perfect circles of apricot rouge. And, unless I was wrong—which I’m not—he had a fetish for eyeliner.

Even so, it would be most foolish to underestimate the ruthless creature that had commanded subservience among his undead Asian peers for the past twenty-eight hundred years.

“Greetings to you all!” Gustav exhorted us, his rich, mellow voice easily traveling across the room. This morning, he also carried a long golden scepter in his lap embedded with jewels similar to the throne. “Our gracious host and fellow vampire ruler, Huangtian Dadi, and I have gathered all of you here to outline our course of action in response to the latest aggressions by my brother, Ralu Izcacus. It is imperative that we follow our new plan precisely, and that we all be ready to migrate to a safer vantage point at a moment’s notice.”

He paused, studying the crowd before him. I’m not sure if he expected a reaction of some sort, but for the moment, the throng remained quiet. The proverbial pin dropping on the floor and being the only thing heard would be quite apropos. Satisfied he had our attention, he nodded and then scanned the room… for me.

“Txema Ybarra, do you like your accommodations?”

Naturally, everyone turned to look at me, even Chanson, and I could tell she had no idea that our leadership’s conversation would include direct dialogue with me.

“Um, yeah, they’re pretty decent.” I shrugged while I looked around. George Romero would be so proud. No emotion—just a room full of the undead staring back at me. Mind you, the grand hall was already cold, and my flimsy coat was failing miserably to keep me warm. But, the vamps as a group were sucking even more heat from my personal space. “I guess the only thing lacking from my room is some decent TV. Since I don’t have HBO, I’m gonna miss the latest episodes of
Game of Thrones
.”

I’m not normally a bitch or some spoiled ingrate. But sometimes irreverent thoughts are impossible for me to keep locked up in my head. I didn’t think anyone present would laugh—although I heard a stifled chuckle escape from Tyreen. Like I said, it just comes out.

“What is
Game of Thrones
?” Huangtian Dadi’s voice sounded surprisingly smooth and melodic—sort of like Gustav’s, the first time I heard his. It must’ve been the tone of genuine surprise for the older vampires. He looked over at Gustav and then back at me again.