Chapter 14
Timofey’s Home, Sunset, Friday, December 14, 2012
Like many small villages the world over with dwindling populations, the settlement in the valley near Timofey’s home had largely been forgotten by time and the rest of humanity. It was home to roughly a hundred souls, mostly farming families, who worked with each other. They had little use for the world outside their isolated valley, which provided everything they needed for their simple lives.
During his centuries of exile, Timofey had expanded his home from a single-room cabin to a meticulously maintained and self-sustaining miniature palace compound. The older man shunned social contact, but Maksim didn’t. They had everything they needed, but Maksim saw no reason to deny himself any creature comforts. He made regular trips to town for the few things he couldn’t make. He liked interacting with the villagers, and he’d made a few friends in town, though he rarely saw them. He shared very little of his life, but he absorbed their experiences and stories like a sponge.
While Maksim had not adopted his father’s disdain for other people, he’d been raised to enjoy solitude, and he was content with his life. His mother had taught him to weave, knit, and sew, but he found no joy in those things and preferred to purchase items from the village seamstress.
He picked up several pairs of socks and grabbed some reading material at the bookshop before going to the tavern. He planned to enjoy the superb local brew before returning home. The tavern owner’s ale far exceeded anything Maksim or Timofey could make.
Several people looked up to acknowledge his arrival when he entered the tavern. He knew everyone present except the stranger in the back corner, who was studying him with open interest. He took no offense. Strangers were unusual in the valley, and he was vain enough to admit that his height and muscular frame made him an attention-grabbing man. If for no other reason than people’s instinctive need to identify nearby dangers, they noticed him.
Maksim spoke when he was addressed, but he largely sat quietly and absorbed the sound of so many voices. He lingered long enough to consume three pints, then purchased a jug for his father and left the tavern to walk home. The moonlight illuminated the cobbled streets.
On the outskirts of the village, Maksim heard someone clear their throat and call, “Pardon me, good sir. I was hoping you might spare a moment to speak with me.”
It was the stranger from the tavern, who’d apparently followed Maksim. He didn’t recognize the accent but could understand the words, which had been uttered in fluent Russian. He looked at the man in the elegant suit with wary curiosity. “What do you need, stranger?”
The man nodded and came a few steps closer, leaving Maksim plenty of personal space. “I’m trying to find a man named Timofey. I’ve heard he resides nearby. Would you happen to know him?”
Maksim was instinctively suspicious of strangers, and his father hadn’t been to the village since Elizaveta’s death. He doubted there were any humans left who had any idea that a hermit lived deep in the mountains, let alone knew his name. It had been at least a decade since the oldest residents had asked about Timofey, and no one else would have any knowledge or cause to speak about him.
His body tingled with the awareness that this stranger was other, but his preternatural senses were undeveloped, so he didn’t understand the input. “Who is asking?”
The man smiled, and unease slid down Maksim’s spine when he thought he saw the tip of a fang. “Excuse me. I’m terribly sorry about that. I failed to introduce myself. My name is Jean-Pierre.”
“Maksim.”
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I was sent to find Timofey and convey a request for assistance from a friend who shares many of his values and viewpoints.”
Anyone who knew enough to mention his father’s opinion on Therians hadn’t found him based on anything he’d learned from the people here. Maksim had watched his father suffer in exile all his life. He was angry and resentful toward the kinsmen who’d cast Timofey aside. He decided to listen to what Jean-Pierre had to say. Passing on the message remained to be seen.
“I know the man you speak of,” Maksim agreed.
Jean-Pierre smiled. “Excellent! Do you mind if I ask how you know him? It’s been difficult to get reliable information.”
“Timofey is my father.”
Jean-Pierre’s eyes widened. That was the last response he’d expected, and he tried to dampen his excitement. “What has your father told you about vampires, Maksim?”
He shrugged. “Next to nothing. He usually rants about Therians.”
Maksim’s answer seemed to please the other man, who smiled warmly. “Would you care to retire somewhere more private so I can tell you what has brought me to this lonely valley?”
Maksim was desperate to learn more, but his natural wariness kept him from immediately accepting. “How can I trust that you mean me no harm?”
Jean-Pierre grinned, not bothering to hide his fangs. “Can you tell truth from lies?”
Maksim shrugged. “I’ve had little cause to develop the skill.”
“My name is Henri,” the vampire lied.
Maksim jumped in shock. “What in the hells was that?”
“Apparently, that is what lies feel like to you. Try this for comparison. My name is Jean-Pierre.”
Maksim grinned. “That’s a useful skill.”
Jean-Pierre nodded. “It is. Now, listen with your senses open. I mean you and yours no harm, and I come bearing an invitation for you both to be the honored guests of our vampire matriarch. Do you feel the truth?”
Maksim waited for the twinge that indicated a lie, but he felt nothing. “I do. Very well. Let us retire to somewhere with no eager ears and have a gentlemanly discussion. There are a great many things I wish to know that my father refuses to discuss.”
The vampire smiled. “I have a room at the tavern. That should provide an appropriate setting.”
They returned to the building and went to Jean-Pierre’s room, locking the door to ensure they wouldn’t be interrupted. While Maksim got comfortable, Jean-Pierre pulled a bottle of fine vodka from his luggage and poured them both a drink.
“I must confess, I found your home and spoke to your father. He refused me outright,” Jean-Pierre began. “I want to start this out with honesty. When I approached you, I did not know who or what you were. I thought you were just another human I hadn’t questioned.”
“What do you think I am?” Maksim asked warily, glancing at the locked door. He set the minor lie aside in favor of gaining the information he wanted.
“Unless I’m much mistaken, you’re a singularity—a hybrid born of a Therian father and a human mother. The only one to survive infancy and a powerful ally for my queen if you so choose.” Jean-Pierre took a sip of his vodka.
“Why have none of the others survived infancy?”
“I understand that procreating with humans has been forbidden for a very long time, and the former king, Nikoli, enforced that rule with death. There have only been a handful of souls brave enough to risk it, and all of them met disastrous ends.”
“What do you want from me?” Maksim asked.
“I was sent by Nadya, the progenitor and ruler of all vampires. She wishes to ally with you and your father. Vampires have been vastly misunderstood throughout this long war. We have been persecuted and hunted nearly to extinction by the Therians. Confined to small areas like animals in a cage, we’ve been forced to fight for every handhold and enough to survive. My queen heard about your father’s exile and thought he might like to hold a position of honor in her court.”
Maksim knew nothing about vampires or the war that had raged for so long, but he heard only truth in Jean-Pierre’s explanation, and his confusion deepened. Timofey’s rants focused on his people. The little he’d said about vampires painted them as a generic enemy incidental to the tale.
He hung on Jean-Pierre’s words, desperate for information about the world beyond this valley and the other life his father had lived. Had the fateful ambush that had gotten him exiled been against vampires? There was so much he wanted to know.
They talked for a long time. Maksim asked questions about the history between vampires and Therians, and Jean-Pierre asked pointed questions interspersed with tales. Maksim felt safe and relaxed, and he allowed the alcohol to loosen his tongue. When the conversation went back to the meeting Nadya wanted, he grimaced. “My father isn’t likely to be interested in helping anyone. He has no need for allies since he prefers his solitude.”
Jean-Pierre didn’t react. “How do you feel?”
Maksim took a sip of his vodka and considered that. As meager as his knowledge was, his father had said nothing positive about the clans. Maksim was grateful that he’d taken after his human mother. He wanted nothing to do with the treacherous Therians.
Does that mean I should treat with vampires? “I’m curious. Isolation has its appeal, but life can be incredibly dull, and he won’t tell me anything about his former life. I won’t deny the lure of an adventure, and it sounds like those Therians need a swift kick in the ass.”
Jean-Pierre chuckled. “Oh, my queen will like you.”
“What help does she think I could provide? What does she want from me?” Maksim asked.
The vampire shrugged. “I am merely the messenger. Nadya did not inform me of her plans, and I would never presume to know what she thinks. I was only told that she desires a meeting to hear her out with no further obligation.”
Maksim considered that. “When would she want to meet?”
Jean-Pierre flashed fang as he grinned. “I must return to her tonight. I can take you with me if you like. You can tell your father about the meeting when you return. Perhaps he’ll be more likely to join if you’ve made a commitment.”
Maksim’s father would never agree to leave, and he would refuse to help the vampires without more information and proper motivation. However, there was no reason Maksim couldn’t listen to what the vampire queen had to say.
“Now? My father will worry if I don’t return.”
Jean-Pierre shook his head, his expression grave. “I must leave within the next few minutes to reach safety before the sun rises. If you wish to come with me, it must be now.”
He was torn. On the one hand, he longed for adventure and burned to learn what the vampire queen could offer. On the other, Timofey would be furious if he went. “Aside from information, what can your queen provide?”
Jean-Pierre’s grin was chilling. “Nadya will offer you an opportunity to get revenge on the Therian royals who exiled and shunned your father.”
Damn. It was like the vampire knew exactly what words would capture Maksim’s interest. He found himself nodding. “I will go with you, but I can only promise your queen a conversation.”
The vampire’s smile widened, and he gestured at the door as he retrieved his luggage. “That is all I ask, good sir. Shall we?”
Maksim left the village with Jean-Pierre, heading for an unknown destination. Forces far beyond his understanding were at work. As he sped away from the valley in the vampire’s Aston Martin, he hoped this course of action would let him right the wrongs his family had endured.