Chapter 8
CHRISTOPHER SEPHTIS
T he Ambrogio sisters were notorious for their calculated appearances. It began sporadically after our mother’s passing, their mothers sending all seven daughters during a time meant for mourning, when the silence that now harbored the household’s walls arose. Their intention was as conspicuous as our involuntary correspondence in age, fully confirmed three years ago on Anabella’s twentieth—two weeks after I had also come of age.
Whispers of our marriage arrangement turned into persistent chatter, intensifying each year as a brother and sister followed in coming of age. Two weeks ago, before Kaleb’s disgraceful scheme deferred our discussion, it was meant to be the prime focus, yet it hadn’t.
We were to make a decision in less than two months, before the Christmas Ball, but their mothers were expecting a swift commitment as four prospects conveyed multiple avenues. But how could one proper pairing be chosen when our existences were more of placeholders than of that to duly rule our kind? When this matter should be one to ponder, yet I continue to let thoughts of Lorenzo consume me after our breaths married? Particularly when I’d sensed him through pure intuition.
My hand intuitively traveled to the pocket that housed the clicker I’d threatened Lorenzo with. His reaction flashed in my mind with clarity.
He’d flinched, a deliberate expression shadowing his hardened features when those godforsaken words escaped my lips. Then, his eyes went dark, as if a switch had flickered, and he responded like a conventional guardian.
A sunken sensation consumed my chest.
“Why do they continue to curse us with their presence?” Kaleb uttered through an exasperated exhale behind me. The household’s enveloping darkness shrouded the wrinkles lining his charcoal gray dress shirt and paired trousers as he descended the stairs to the last step, pausing before the foyer. Though they were minuscule, the insolence of his shabbiness grew egregious with each visit. Yet, one didn’t have to look at him to assume so.
It was evident in his suffocating ego, the very air around him intense enough to unsettle those in close proximity. Though I had no reaction to it as he settled in his accustomed place on the last step, the twins did as they silently trailed behind in similar indigo collared shirts. Habitual unkempt dirty blonde hair was styled into a quiff, the short tips peeking behind their ears.
Greetings from the second and third youngest were prompt, Jacob’s and Jacque’s gaze never meeting mine. When Kaleb’s head meandered to them, their presences peaked. Jacob’s distinctive self-possession knotted, and in contrast, Jacque’s overweening presence swelled. The twins were thought to share many qualities, one mind to a certain extent. It was far off the mark, and in truth, they possessed a singular affinity: their muscles stiffened whenever in Kaleb’s vicinity.
Air brushed my side as broad shoulders sped past, a body sliding off the banister and landing on carpeted floors in one swift motion. An oxford blue dress wrapped around Noah, the second oldest, and elongated his torso and slim hips as he claimed his fixed place between Kaleb and I.
“Oh, my Bethany. She can’t seem to be apart from me any longer. You know, she last took me?—”
“Do not,” Kaleb hissed, his fingers combing back his walnut brown waves, “finish that sentence. I’ve heard enough of those little adventures your dearest embarks you on.”
“But Christopher, nor the twins, have heard it!” Noah frowned as he leaned forward and glanced at the twins. “And you’d like to hear, would you not?”
With a stiff smile that struggled to meet his ears, Jacque said, “Yes.” Jacob, on the other hand, simply nodded.
Raven-black hair swayed along Noah’s shoulders as he turned to me and pouted, fangs shadowing his bottom lip as large cobalt blue eyes widened. “Will you let me share, Dear Eldest Brother?”
Evolution was the observation of species, the foundation of our biological basis. Vampires were rooted in such adaptation, the flowers of success in our assimilation to humanity and society. However, many disregarded the key factor to our kind's advancements: facades. Without the many masks to face the reality of the world, vampirism wouldn’t be what it was today. For some vampires, it was a disguise to conceal the truth they held dear; for others, it was deeply ingrained, bound to the individual.
What Kaleb nurtured was innate; for the twins, it was survival. However, for Noah, it was neither. And there, within the glint in his eyes, surfaced the shadow he tamed underneath this performance everyone believed to be true.
Screeching tires scratched the air as footsteps resounded outside the household. Light crept in as Sonia swiftly opened the towering doors, an outline following her. Raphael, the youngest of the Sephtis name, stepped away from behind her and briskly bowed to us without a proper greeting. Kaleb’s and Noah’s eyebrows rose, and before I could notice, mine did, too.
Raphael kept his head leveled to the floor and his steps calculated, jet-black curls concealing his eyes. However, his tightly entwined fingers against his abdomen raised prickly silent questions.
I glanced at Sonia, her impassive features furthering them. She had received notice of the fourth oldest feeding complications an hour ago. Yet, why had Raphael only arrived now from his feeding?
And where was Alek if he wasn’t with Raphael?
Noah widened his mouth, yet no words escaped him as the familiar engine ceased beyond the entrance. Presences drowned our surroundings as bodies entered the household, my abdomen intuitively twisting at the sight of all seven Ambrogio sisters.
They bore harmonious outfits, each sister donning an array of colorful dresses that emphasized their shared ice-blond hair and distinctive features. A silent indication thrummed in the air as each sister stood before their match, and synchronously, we bowed—except for one.
Davina, the fourth oldest of the Ambrogio name, stared at the vacant place between Jacque and Kaleb meant for Alek. Though her jaw hardened, she did not bring attention to herself; instead, all eyes fell at the body as he stepped through.
“My apologies,” Alek muttered swiftly, a scattered flush painting his pale flesh. At first glance, it appeared in the same manner it did to vampires of fair tones—like ourselves—who were underneath the sun’s rays for longer than ought to be. However, the spotted black veins that webbed around his eyes and temples told otherwise. They were eerily similar to Kaleb’s and Noah’s whenever altercations occurred.
He had fought.
“Let’s move over to the dining room, shall we?” At my words and direction, everyone followed suit, tension weighing between our bodies.
“What’s going on?” I whispered into Anabella’s ear as I assisted her into her seat. This spontaneous visit was one I had prepared for the moment Sonia received notice. In spite of that, it didn’t calm the nerves that tightened my abdomen as we had a deal.
I had to approve calculated appearances before they could occur.
Anabella’s gaze roamed on each sibling as they settled around the extensive, iron-forged table. Conversations between pairs filtered around us. “Where have you been? You haven’t visited Le Maudit.”
“I. . .” What was I to tell her when I couldn’t fathom answering the question for myself?
“Father’s pressuring our mothers regarding the marriage arrangement. Tensions continue to rise between the Ministry and the Human Bureau. They need an answer.”
“We have until the Christmas Ball.”
“Yes, but. . .” An exasperated exhale escaped her, and servants silently entered, resting blood-filled goblets before us. Her voice thinned. “I’m worried, stressed to the bone. They’re going mad, and in turn, I’m going mad. The Mubaraks are gone. The Premier seems to be operating on havoc instead of restraining it. There’s no trace of Mal, and Christopher, they’re hunting him like lunatics. They’ve visited the parlor more than I would like. What if he truly is connected to the Mubaraks’ disappearance?”
Before my tongue could form a consolation, eyes fell on us, particularly the three youngest: Esmeralda, Fortuna, and Gia on the opposite side of the table.
Anabella promptly buried our subject by announcing, “The ball’s underlying theme has been approved.”
Catalina’s murmurs chimed, yet her words were inaudible underneath Noah’s resounding voice as he leaned into Bethany. “Oh, Bethany! I hope you have thought about our matching attire. I have no preference, though I wouldn’t mind sporting a dress this year.”
Anabella added, “This year’s Christmas Ball will be dedicated to appreciation.”
“The invitation has been extended to select Elected Officials within the Human Bureau and Ministry alike. Even close servants that assist them,” Bethany said.
A sharp smile stretched across Davina who sat at the opposing corner of the table before Alek. “All high-ranking guardians are to attend. Which includes the one behind us.”
Eyes whipped to the foyer and onto the body that suddenly halted, the familiar outline carefully turning to the dining room. It was the guardian who was put at risk after Kaleb’s scheme, the one who had put my very brother in his place at our first meeting.
I wasn’t one to appreciate a guardian overstepping their bounds, but in that instance, Ms. Eli earned a sliver of my respect.
“I’m sorry. What did you say?” she asked, almost adrift.
“It’s quite simple.” Davina’s slate eyes fell on her. “There will be a curated list for every guest and household, the max of invited guardians depending on how large the attending family is.”
“In your case, it would be three,” Bethany commented.
Davina added, “You, deary, must take a spot.”
Anabella vibrated beside me as she spoke, desperation oozing between words, “Father wants us all to showcase our unification. In hopes it keeps the Mubaraks’ disappearance out of view. News outlets have begun raising questions regarding their absences during hearings. The confirmation of the Christmas Ball’s theme and the new attendance sheet will bury it.”
With a narrow yet possessive gaze that stumbled on Alek, clouded emerald eyes glinting, Ms. Eli crossed her arms against her chest.
A murmur silenced beneath Kaleb’s mockery, “So not only will guardians be guests but still operating like usual.”
“Oh my, what a brilliant idea!” Noah bounced in his chair and clapped enthusiastically. “Continuous labor disguised as fun.”
There was something familiar about Ms. Eli’s demeanor, the way she carried herself in a room where she was meant to be reverent—not bold.
Catalina quarreled, “No, you idiot. It’s not an undercover job. But if by chance something out of the ordinary occurs, then the already stationed guardians will have reinforcements.”
The soft lights within the dining room contoured Ms. Eli’s umber flesh as her expression suddenly melted, admiration dilating her pupils in a way I’d seen before in the murkiness of a cave.
“Not in the mood to bite today?” Davina challenged.
Catalina scoffed to herself. “She shouldn’t be. A mutt should know its place.”
“Don’t call me that,” Ms. Eli rapidly bit back, irritation binding her words to stand her ground. It was practically identical to the guardian I hadn’t seen and?—
Metal clinked against the table as Noah rested his goblet. “Ah! There’s that gleam we all favor!”
Ms. Eli widened her mouth, but Mr. Amelle made an appearance, silvery golden dreadlocks twisted in a large bun high on his crown as he bowed. “Pardon my intrusion.” Mirrored shades concealed his eyes, and though his voice carried a consistent steadiness, it faltered.
Heavy breaths plunged his chest, the tactical vest emphasizing his slouched broad shoulders. Sweat lined deep sepia flesh and glistened across his freckled cheekbones underneath the low lighting.
He appeared as ruffled as Alek.
“What do you require, Mr. Amelle?” When had my tongue dried to this extent?
“We require Ms. Eli’s presence, sir. It’s time for the routine search across the grounds.”
“One day won’t do no harm,” Davina mentioned.
“I’m afraid that the request is coming from the Senior Guardian. I’m only the transmitter, Ms. Ambrogio.”
Noah shook his head with exaggeration. “Oh, no fun! It was just growing interesting.”
I nodded, and in sheer abruptness, they vanished, yet the question remained.
Why did she remind me of Lorenzo?
As the eldest, I did not get called upon. This was an insolent act under the vampire hierarchy, my seniority rooted deep in the very basis of our society and set principles. Age came after prestige, and as the first born of the Sephtis line, heir to the Premier title, I possessed both underneath this household, my authority greater than all my brothers combined.
However, at rare times, a brother could request my time. In the cases that it occurred, it was for one or two reasons: someone had dirt on someone, or there was a matter at hand with That Man.
Yet, the prickle in my abdomen denied the two as I entered Noah’s domain the day following the Ambrogio’s spontaneous visit.
Purple-toned lights radiated around the barren vault, accentuating the corridors surrounding the prodigious pool. A lone body swam to the edge, the water’s pale surface intensifying Noah’s gape. In a wink, he lifted himself and grabbed a towel from the camouflaged benches along the wall.
“Eldest brother! So lovely to see you here at such an hour.”
“You requested this.”
“Maybe, but you didn’t have to say yes to it. Aren’t you the one with the authority under this household?”
“Authority is figurative.” Before our mother’s passing, these vampiric practices were simply taught, never thrusted down our throats. It wasn’t until after our mother’s passing we began playing into these hierarchical games. On which grounds? Unbeknownst to us all. It was from one night to another, a result of the consolation none of us received. It had been the only support we possessed to upkeep a sense of balance, a trap that, once discovered, was ingrained too deep to alter these dynamics that society had imposed on us.
“Sure, sure. Would you like a drink?”
Lips widened but quickly shut as the taste of distant metal coated my tongue and abruptly churned my body. A dry heave knotted at the base of my throat. At that moment, it struck like a viper.
When had I fed last? What had led me to stop?
Burning bronzed eyes lined with possession and allurement flashed within my mind.
Since that night.
I cleared my throat. “No.”
“Then I shouldn’t either.” Noah winked with a wide grin, fangs gleaming. Then rapidly, he swept something from the bench and threw it in my direction. My hand caught it before my eyes could register what it was. But there was no need to when my touch recognized the rounded structure.
I opened my palm to the cold clicker. “How?—”
“Next time, you hold something of value, Eldest Brother,” Noah said, “don’t drop it.” There was no jest in his usual tone. The performance had vanished the moment I stepped foot inside, the Noah before me pensive and firm.
Panic bubbled in my throat. “Did you press it?”
“I may act like an imbecile, but it doesn’t signify that I am one. I don’t test my luck with items that I’m not familiar with.” A smirk flourished across his pale complexion underneath the low lighting. “Though it was Bethany who pointed out what this little particular device entailed.”
In a moment, the air shifted to a pensive buzz, a weight burrowing into my abdomen. To ask was to dig my grave deeper; was it worth doing so when Sonia had denied such a thing?
“What does it entail?”
“You know that’s not how it works, but,” Noah tilted his head, “you still are the eldest. And for that, I will keep it simple. So, Christopher, what do you think—a question for a question?”
Silence was the only answer I offered.
“The clicker neutralizes our enemies, the very one’s humans created,” he noted. “Lycans.”
Lycans had gone extinct after the Cold War, utterly erased from media and memories alike until they were believed to be a myth. In our mother’s teachings, she’d mentioned them a handful of times, though they held no place in our vampiric scriptures since they were seen as unworthy of the past, present, and future.
I’ve read instances of when one’s reality overturned, how the world tilted and spun, reality suspending into a state of upheaval. Never had I felt such sensation. . .until now.
Every moment spent with Lorenzo caved, knotting and threading into a tight grip around my chest.
“Now, tell me, do you know of a lycan?”
A burrowing pit caved into my body—a body where its existence dangled further from a reality that seemingly thinned.
“I suppose so.”