Chapter 3
Three
No matter.
“Tonight, we begin your first and most important lesson as a new vampire.” I addressed the nest, voice commanding as I looked from one to the next.
I was pleased to see they shifted beneath my gaze, a submissive response I remembered well from my years in the Puritan school—although fanglings were a much more dangerous sort of unruly than the boys I’d taught basic figures. “Tonight, we hunt.”
Two hands shot up into the air.
“Yes, Alex?” I called on the first.
“Billy said we don’t need to hunt if we aren’t comfortable with it. He said we can feed off the blood bags.” His hair never left his eyes, shielding his gaze no matter which way he gestured.
“Mr. Barlow has tasked me with teaching you to master your powers and learn what your sire would’ve passed to you.
Hunting is an integral part of your new life, and you will not always have the luxury of convenience delivered.
” I sniffed, nodding to the next fangling with their hand still up. “Bradford?”
“I don’t want to eat anyone.” His voice was deep but gentle, like the push of a great root into the dirt. “And you can call me Ford, Professor.”
I paused, taking in the others. “Do you all echo these sentiments?” Six heads nodded in unison.
“I see.” I tapped a finger to my lips in thought.
I hadn’t planned for such hesitance in a nest this young.
Fanglings were often dangerously ravenous, unable to control themselves in their hunger.
But these six seemed content to snack on the vampiric equivalent of microwave meals.
And I still needed a fresh drink, regardless of their discomfort.
“A compromise, then,” I said, steepling my fingers together.
“I am not so strict as to force your hands, but the fact remains you must learn how to feed from a living being for your own safety.” The fanglings shifted their weight, scuffling gravel at such intervals as to sound like an orchestra pit at warm-up.
Another hand shot up, but I waved it down.
“Tonight will serve as demonstration only.”
More hands shot up. I put my hands out to end the matter, shaking my head. “No more questions. Follow me.”
But before I could take another step, the nest broke out into chaos, breaking formation to swirl around me, clawing at my shirt, all six voices a shrieking cacophony.
“What about my mum? I won’t let you—”
“—families have lived here since we were kids, we know everyone—”
“This isn’t right! Billy said—”
“I’m not even hungry, I promise—”
“—wrong!”
“—one of us instead!”
“ENOUGH.” I pushed the clinging nest from me, waving them back into formation with a clench of my fist. Their bodies moved clearly against their wills, panicked red eyes rolling in their heads as they sought comfort from one another, fear radiating off them in waves.
Hand still tight, I spoke slowly, looking at each stricken face in turn.
“It is not practical for me to control you like this for every lesson. It is exhausting and ineffective. But it is becoming increasingly clear to me that you do not understand what is at stake here, and I may have rushed you in that regard.” I released the nest, stretching my fingers as they each slumped their shoulders, patting hands down their own fronts, nodding to one another in silent assurance.
“So, we will take a step back together.” I smoothed the front of my shirt, smothering my annoyance at the small slashes in the fabric left by desperate claws. “Who knows what happens to a vampire who loses control of themselves?”
The nest stared back in stillness.
“I see.” I let my feet pace up and down the line, inspecting each fangling in turn. “And who knows what might make a vampire lose control in the first place?”
More stillness.
“Interesting. They’ve really left you out here to fail,” I muttered to myself. I stopped in front of the eldest redhead. “Master Alfred, who is your employer?”
“Madame Marie Laveau, Professor Aglio.” He seemed pleased to finally have an answer, and I nodded, noting the way his chest swelled just a touch at the affirmation. Validation over force, then.
“Very good, Master Alfred. And who is the madame?” This time, a hand raised from a fangling I hadn’t been thoroughly harassed by: a thin-framed young man with hunched shoulders.
Had he stood straight, I would’ve assumed him to be the eldest over Alfred, but his submission gave him the impression of the runt.
“Yes, Master . . . ?”
“Benedict, Professor Aglio. Madame Marie Laveau is one of the world’s oldest and most powerful vampires. She controls legions, and her investments span the globe, like the Clotswold.”
“Excellent, Master Benedict. And what do you suppose may happen to a vampire who endangers the mMadame’s power?”
Nervous silence.
“Come now, I’m sure one of you could take an educated guess.” I tried to sound encouraging but feared condescension. “Master Alex?”
Dipping his head to look at his toes, the walking bowl cut answered in barely more than a whisper. “She’d get rid of us.”
“The consequences for crossing the great Marie Laveau are a touch more concerning than unemployment, I fear.” I stopped my pacing, squaring my body to the nest. They watched me intently now, their fidgeting in the gravel nearly silent.
“To go against the lead of your colony, such is the greater relationship between Laveau and your nest here in Ashbourne, is to risk being sentenced to ash—left out in the sun against your will to combust into nothing more than flakes in the wind. It is the most painful way for a vampire to die, and the only true way to ensure they never rise again.”
“Isnae our fault.” Alex tilted his chin up in defiance, the barest flash of his red gaze peeking through the curtain of hair. “We didnae ask for this.”
“That’s why it’s called a curse, Master Alex. No one refers to vampirism as a ‘gift’ or ‘elective procedure,’” I snapped. I liked less and less how this one seemed to tug at something in me, something I’d tried to smother eons ago.
“How are we supposed to know if we’ve made her mad or not? It’s not like there’s a rule book somewhere,” Frederick, the other redheaded brother, chimed in.
“No, but there is a Code we all adhere to—one you are all dangerously close to breaking by continuing your human attachments.” I fixed them each with a meaningful look. “You must not be discovered.”
“Leslee knows Billy is a vampire.” Ford, in his deep voice, drew a few supporting nods and “yeahs.”
“Is Miss Hawthorne human?” The nods turned to shakes.
“Now, if I may continue.” I returned to pacing, crunching purposefully in the gravel drive.
The moon hung above us in a brilliant crescent, and somewhere in the distance, frogs chirped to their mates.
The night was young, and my hunger pressed against me like a lover, urging me to move closer to desire.
“Zipping about and leaping off buildings as you’ve all been doing with no thought for who can see you is certainly one way to get found out, although that no one in your village has caught on yet speaks to the average intelligence of the populace—it may be your saving grace. ”
The nest squinted back at me. A few sharper fanglings shot me a glare at the perceived insult. “But the most dangerous, and most preventable, form of discovery, is succumbing to hunger.”
“Professor, we have a supply—”
“And when you don’t?” Every fangling’s most vicious era was that collection of years when they had not yet mastered their appetite.
We are reduced, initially, to the very essence of hunger—a mindless, bloody, violent rampage that, unless overseen by a sire, turns into the type of carnage only found in human-created wars.
That the fanglings had been essentially bottle-fed since their creation left a dangerous door unopened.
“Why wouldn’t—”
“What if the relationship between the Clotswold and the hospital disbands? What if there is a storm that wrecks the truck, leaving your steady stream bleeding into the street? What then?” Each fangling dropped my gaze as fast as I caught theirs.
“You must know how to feed from a live source—” Several protests began, but I held up a hand for silence. “If only for emergencies.”
“I willnae eat anyone in the village.” Alex, again. I could tell from the angle of his face that he was staring me down, could feel his stare penetrating the curtain of his hair.
“Do you all echo Master Alexander’s sentiments?
” I would’ve sighed had I the held breath to do so.
Instead, I found that cluster of headaches pressing against my forehead, stretching into the bridge of my nose and the edge of my vision.
I pressed fingers at that key point, trying to relieve the tension.
“Yes, Professor, we do,” Alfred answered.
“There is another way, if you insist.” I gestured to the edge of the woods on the horizon, their dark jagged forms scratching at the stars beyond.
“Your first test is to arrive at the woods without my detecting you. So much as a shadow, and I’ll send you back to the start.
We won’t begin the next lesson—meaning I will not offer you the alternative for sating your hunger—until you pass this test.” Without another word, I unleashed my silent speed, sprinting for the woods in a matter of moments.
Once there, I settled in a comfortable crook of tree branches toward the front, watching with disappointment as fangling after fangling stumbled their clumsy way past the hotel, over the stables, and into the open expanse of moonlit meadow.
For every teen I could hear coming from a distance, I returned them to the start, only letting those improving their muffled steps move farther.
I’m embarrassed to admit my wrist got a workout, catching them with my control and flinging them back to the start, one by one—sometimes two by two.
But the night was young, and there was no greater teacher than experience.