Ancient Blood: A Novel of the Hegemony (The Order Saga Book 1) (13 page)

I noticed another of the footmen coming down the stairs and started walking. Valmont kicked the front of my shin as I passed and I went down onto the landing. The other footman marched by without so much as a glance.

“Clumsy oaf,” Valmont said.

I picked myself up, facing his way so as not to give him another easy shot at me but he just made faces at the boy and blew on his tummy. It made me sick to watch him play with the kid, knowing what was really going on.

“I’m going to violate the boy before I drink him.” It was so matter-of-fact that it took me a step or two before it sank in. I didn’t want to look back but I couldn’t help it.

“That’s the way I prefer them,” he continued, rocking the child and smiling at him as he spoke. “As sweet as pure innocence can be, there’s a piquancy it takes on when freshly spoilt which is unrivaled.” He looked down at me, smiling. “You, boy, shall have part responsibility for his suffering. He could have died in bliss had you accepted my generous offer, something to ponder while I decide your punishment.”

He picked up the boy’s wrist and told him to say bye-bye to me. With a gap-toothed smile, the boy did. Then Valmont carried him up the stairs and disappeared.

I made it to the bottom of the stairs before I had to sit down. Finally, my rage came back and I sat fighting the tears that wanted to pour out.

 

* * * * *

 

Wilkes smirked at me as I stood up. He leaned against the doorway of the security office, located next to the morning room and parlor. The security office had banks of closed circuit monitors that displayed all the “common” areas of the house, so I knew he’d seen everything.

He waved his hand at me, mimicking the boy: “Bye-bye.”

I ignored the prick but had to walk past him on the way to the kitchen. As usual, it was hot with activity, one side doing prep work, while Helmut and his assistants prepared and set out finished dishes on the other side. The other footmen hurried in, put them on trays or carts and hurried out.

“Hey, are you done with the Judicis yet?” one of the other footmen asked me.

“No, not yet,” I said. “I got a little—”

He cut me off with a heavy sigh. “Well, guess I’m taking Jade Tiger’s order up, then.” Mr. Pissy slid a few more covered plates onto a wheeled cart and took it back to the dumb waiter before stomping up the servants’ stairs to meet it.

I decided it’d be a bad idea to go down to the cellar with my anger and hunger so keyed up. However, on the way toward the blood freezers, I happened to glance out the window in the door of the “mud room” that leads to a small, fenced-in courtyard between the kitchen and parlor wings. It’s one of the few nice places on the estate with grass, marble benches, path stones, flower beds, trimmed shrubs, climbing ivy and even a fountain. Everybody on the staff pitches in a little here and there to keep the place looking good and I know a lot of people go out there to smoke or just relax when the weather’s nice.

That night, Sebastian paced past the window, talking to somebody.

The little courtyard was one of the places that I knew wasn’t covered by the cameras, so that meant this was something Sebastian didn’t want anyone to know about. That made it something Caroline would want to know about. I crept into the mud room, hiding myself amid the hanging coats and rain slickers and strained to see the corner bench but Sebastian’s back obscured my view. Then he kneeled down and pulled a small knife from his belt. Bringing his other hand into view, he sliced his palm and held it up as an offering. As she leaned forward to drink, Julia Agrippina came into view.

I realized why Valmont had bothered toying with me for so long on the stairs. What I witnessed was something Caroline’s cultural essays called a Blood Pact. It’s more than just the kind of political deal that seems to be the life blood of the Hegemony. A Blood Pact means that the “Pact Slave” swears to be ruled by the “Pact Master” in all things relating to their Pact. It is as unbreakable an alliance as exists in the Vampyr world, since if you don’t fulfill your agreement to the satisfaction of the Pact Master, your life is forfeit. Maybe Caroline’s head for intrigue was starting to rub off on me because even I realized that this put us on a whole new playing field. Julia wasn’t just supporting Sebastian’s election to Judicis, she was engineering it. She was behind him with the full weight of her experience, influence and allies.

In short, we were utterly fucked.

Deciding to not take any chance of getting spotted, I backed away from the window and went straight through the kitchen to the cellar stairs.

Was any of this worth the trouble? What could we do to stop these people? Julia was literally older than Jesus and knew the ins and outs of that fucking council blindfolded. How could we compete with that?

I felt pretty defeated by the time I walked past the rows of cages. I created reasons to be annoyed at the victims to keep myself from finding them appetizing. I found a teenage girl who looked enough like what Iago wanted to be passable and dragged her out of her cage, muttering and cursing while trying to ignore her desperate squeals. I was rough with her as I unhooked the Flex Cuffs on her ankles and the I.V. tube from her arm. I thought about how bad she smelled and what a pain in the ass this was to stop myself from feeling sorry for her. I forced myself not to look at her body—not out of decency but because I might find her attractive and then she’d be a human being to me again. I left her wrists bound because I didn’t want to fight her and I kept her gagged, so I couldn’t hear her beg.

I had to carry her upstairs while she kicked and tried to shout through the tape. I carried her through the kitchen without looking at anyone, only stopping by the mud room to grab a long coat. It seemed to quiet her down a little when I draped it over her shoulders. Of course, with the coat on, she was just an anonymous figure with oily hair.

I wonder if that was the way it started for guys like Wilkes and the kitchen staff.

 

* * * * *

 

Nobody hassled me on the way upstairs, which was probably a good thing for all concerned. Luckily, Iago didn’t ask what took so long, just motioned for me to bring the girl into his suite.

As I turned to leave, he said, “Close the door. I should like you to remain.”

Great
, I thought.
Probably wants me to take the body away when he’s done
. There are modified garbage chutes in all the suites for just that purpose, they lead down to a large basement under the center of the house that contains a crematorium furnace. I did my best to force down all my emotions, my simmering anger included. I knew that no matter what was coming, it’d be easier to face if I didn’t let myself feel anything.

Removing the coat, so the girl stood naked before us, Iago ordered me to undo her bindings. I came over and removed the plastic handcuffs, noticing the welts and bruises all over her.

“Oh, how wretched,” he whispered as he looked her up and down.

The girl cringed and tried to cover herself and I also thought he was being critical.
Hey, fuck you, Dusty. You try picking a beauty queen outta Sebastian’s Dungeon of Terror
. After Iago removed the tape from the girl’s mouth and stroked her hair, I realized that he’d been pitying rather than criticizing.

“Here you are, darling,” he said after a bit, handing her back the coat.

In one of my rare insightful moments, I realized that my presence might not help the calming effect Iago was trying to have and I stepped back.

The girl sobbed again and pleaded for her life and Iago reassured and quieted her with the skill of the world’s most experienced grandfather.

After a minute or so, the girl let Iago take her in his arms, while she cried onto his suit. I waited for the bite but it didn’t come. They just stood, holding each other for a while until Iago encouraged her to sit down in the nearest chair.

He knelt before her and in the soft glow of the fireplace they looked like a living oil painting. The girl’s stillness was a fear of movement, Iago’s was inhuman, showing the kind of complete non-motion you only see in the animal kingdom.

I couldn’t see his lips move even when I heard his hushed voice in the silence of the room. “My dear child, I see your recent days have brought you naught but pain. I would lift that burden from you. Clear your mind of thoughts, child and lose yourself in my eyes. Let all the pain that has befallen you vanish from your remembrance like the morning dew. Let them be gone, returning nevermore to trouble you…”

I moved closer, fascinated despite my caution to see the reality behind the various fantasies I’d read over the years.

“I want you to travel back in your memories to the time of your capture. You will not relive or feel them again but merely observe as though it were a play you were watching. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Completely calm and detached now.

“Very well. Please relate what occurred.”

The girl told us how she’d been walking home from a friend’s house, when she noticed a large van coming up behind her. Even as she moved away from the road, she heard a voice from inside and felt what she described as a bee sting.

After she finished, Iago implanted a series of post-hypnotic suggestions, telling her that she’d do what she was told until a code word was spoken. When it was, she would go to sleep and wake up a few hours later, aware that something had happened to her but unable to remember what. Furthermore, she wouldn’t want to remember and would be determined to put it behind her and enjoy the rest of her life.

After reinforcing his instructions to the girl to remain calm and aware of nothing, Iago pushed up the arm of her coat to her elbow, where the plug for her I.V. drip remained. Working with the utmost care, he slid the plug out and brought his mouth down onto the wound. A few seconds later, he finished drinking and pressed his finger onto the vein.

“On the table behind you, you shall find a doctor’s bag,” he said without looking at me. “Please bring me a small wad of cotton and a bandage.”

I turned and found the bag sitting between a few old books. Opening it, I was surprised to find a commercial bag of cotton balls and bandages of various sizes (along with some antique bloodletting equipment). I brought the cotton ball and bandage over.

“In such poor circumstances,” Iago said as he rose from the floor, “that rather rushed effort is all I can do for her. Now, you will take her to Sebastian’s man Ash and tell him that this girl is to be freed upon my authority. Give Ash the release word and explain my instructions to the girl, he shall know how best to arrange the details. Is this understood?”

I nodded, feeling my spirits lift and an odd return of hope. My mind whirled with thoughts of Louis and Marius from Anne Rice, Yarboro’s St. Germain, Joshua York from
Fevre Dream
, Angel and even Nick Knight. Characters haunted by the deeds of their pasts and driven by a desire to atone.

“Excellent,” he said in response to my nod. “Best see to it apace, then. For myself, I must summon fortitude for this even’s council…”

 

* * * * *

 

After Ash made the arrangements and put the girl to bed in one of the guest rooms, I followed him down to the security office to relieve Wilkes. Caroline was already there, working on her transcription of the council meeting and she gave me a quick kiss when I came in.

“I heard about what happened with Valmont,” she whispered with a glance at the departing Wilkes. I just shrugged. Once Major Jerk-Off was out of sight, she told Ash, “He knows something’s up.”

“He’s not quite as dumb as he looks,” Ash said, pouring a cup of coffee.

“I don’t think that’d be possible,” I added. I was still feeling pretty good. I told her everything that I’d seen while the council went through some long ritual of opening the session (which she’d already cut and pasted into her transcript).

Ash made no comments as I spoke, though the fact that Caroline didn’t object to my speaking in his presence, told me that he was with us enough to keep our secrets. Caroline smiled a little when I finished up with Iago and the girl, drawing the same conclusions from his actions that I had.

“It’s great news, Avery,” she said. “Julia and Valmont are going to add a lot of difficulty but Iago’s actions give us reason to be optimistic.”

My stomach rumbled and I was just about to excuse myself to get something when Ash said, “Those two—”

We both turned. He sat a few feet away at his desk, coffee cup inches from his lips, with an expression like he’d surprised himself by speaking aloud. He finished sipping his coffee and glanced around at the various screens for a distraction.

“Ash, please,” Caroline said. “It’s not as though we’d betray you.”

Ash sighed, setting down his cup. “Hell, that isn’t even the point. He gave me a direct order.”

In the end, I think it was their long years of association that broke the Dhampir’s deadlock in our favor.

“`Bout a week ago,” he began, staring at the bank of exterior views on the wall. “I was ordered to install pinhole cameras and microphones in Hegemon Julia’s suite.”

He spoke the way a man confessing to an embarrassing crime in court might.

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