Chapter 4 #2
And with that, he was thrust into the darkness and oppressive heat of his father’s study.
There was a fire burning in the grate and candles in the corners, but as always, Vladimir had eschewed the actual lights installed in the ceiling in favour of pretending that it was still 1700.
The room was cavernous, the high arched window behind the massive desk letting in the barest hint of moonlight.
Shadows wreathed the stacks of books, piles of art, and taxidermy animals that Vladimir insisted on collecting.
Nothing broke the silence except the sound of Alexander’s own breathing, the snick of the lock as the door was shut, and the scratching of his father’s quill on what looked to be actual parchment.
Looking at Vladimir Damianos, one wouldn’t know that he was anything other than a middle-aged man, well preserved and with very sharp canine teeth.
His hair was still ink-black, his gold-hued eyes sharp.
When Alexander was forced to attend mortal functions with Vladimir, they were frequently mistaken for brothers.
A common affliction of being a vampire out in human society, what with everyone ceasing to age physically before they began to look the least bit old.
And the family resemblance did run strong, except for the fact that Vladimir wore a permanent frown and was a master of deep paternal disappointment.
Alexander waited three entire minutes before his tongue got the better of him. “I got you a laptop for a reason, you know.”
“I see your attitude has improved not one whit since this morning, then.” Vladimir’s retort was brittle, and he didn’t even deign to look up from whatever he was working on.
“One would think that you would have slightly more pride after you finally managed to drain” – Vladimir paused dramatically, pulling what was clearly a blank piece of paper off the desk as if consulting it – “your very first mortal in the last fifty years.”
Alexander winced, from the admonition for being careless with his kill and because Maria had clearly sold him out. He was already suffering from the guilt twisting his insides, and it was horrible to have the added sting of betrayal there too. “I told her not to–”
His strangled protest was what finally got his father to look up. “I love your sister, but Maria isn’t nearly half as clever as she thinks she is. Of course, everyone in this house tells me whatever I require. I am, after all, the one who pays them.”
“And he who holds the purse holds the power,” Alexander muttered out of sheer instinct, his lessons with his father burned into his memory.
He sucked in a breath. “I should have known better than to waste my time telling her not to tell you.” She would have, of course, thinking that it would make their father proud.
Undoubtedly, she was right as well – Vladimir would seize on anything to show that his son had the potential to be as bloodthirsty and dismissive of mortal lives as the rest of them.
“I’m quite glad she did.” His father leaned back in his high-backed chair, the wood of the frame creaking in protest. “Because it has given me an idea.”
Nothing good had ever come from his father having ideas in his general direction. Alexander leaned on a particularly hideous table that looked like it was from Louis XIV’s boudoir and braced himself.
Vladimir steepled his fingers together, cocking his head. “You’re aware of the attacks making the news.”
Even though it wasn’t phrased as a question, Alexander nodded anyway. He already hated wherever this was about to go. “I am.”
“Then I figured, with your perverse insistence on being at that mortal university” – as if that wasn’t where Vladimir himself had obtained fifteen degrees, Alexander thought bitterly – “we might as well make good use of it. You’re to catch the rogue and bring them to me.
It’s a small dissent, but one which I simply won’t tolerate.
But no killing the culprit, not on your own.
Use some of that control you’re so known for, because this deserves a bit more of a public display. ”
Alexander finally found his spine, clenching his hands at his sides. “I’m not the fucking police. Don’t you pay them off for a reason?”
His father literally tutted, and for some reason the dismissiveness of the sound made Alexander’s blood boil. He took a step forward, only for his father to level him with a look and say, “Stop.”
And stop Alexander did, because he was only the second-strongest wielder of vampiric compulsion on the planet. The first was seated in front of him.
No matter that Alexander had trained his entire life to be able to use nothing more than the innate magic in his voice to affect others – he couldn’t move if he’d needed to save his life.
His ties to his father were such that his own power was merely a derivative, and he was helpless in the face of a true command from Vladimir.
It was, Alexander thought, the most inconvenient and threatening of the myriad powers vampires could be blessed with.
“Fine,” he said, lowering his gaze and showing the back of his neck, making himself subservient and vulnerable. “Fine. You want me to take on a task better suited for one of your enforcers? I’ll do it. Let me go.”
“It’s time for you to learn your place, Alexandros.
” His father tightened the command just a bit, until his lungs couldn’t expand in his chest, and only then released it.
Alexander grimaced at the use of the name he’d been given at birth, back in the days when his father was obsessed with the Ancient Greeks, before Alexander had changed it to something far more English.
“This is creating political trouble for us. Ministers are getting nervous about the crime rate, and all we need is for that internet of yours to get wind of what’s happening, and we’ll have a far bigger problem on our hands.
Whatever do you think would happen to you if humans found out what walked among them? Whatever would happen to Maria?”
And that was check and mate, because even though Alexander wanted as little as possible to do with his father’s stringent and unyielding expectations, even though he wanted to be his own person and live his own life, he loved his older sister more.
Vladimir had kept him in check for hundreds of years with a variety of threats, but none was more effective than the insinuation that he’d harm Maria.
“I didn’t invent the internet,” Alexander snapped back, immediately flushing at the way his father could reduce him to juvenile retorts.
“But fine. If that’s what it will take to get you to accept that I have an actual profession other than fucking around with other old men and their laws and elections, that I want to do more than just sit around all day manipulating the stock market, that I just want some fucking variety in my life, then fine. I’ll do it.”
Vladimir completely ignored his outburst, staring at him blankly in a way that was deeply infuriating.
“By the end of the fortnight, if you’d please.
I don’t want this marring the ball. And a gathering like that would be the perfect place to make an example of a member of my clan who was no longer following my rules. ”
That last part was a threat, and Alexander ignored it in favour of turning on his heel and storming out the door.
None of his usual methods of calming down were working, and as the hours of the night stretched on, Alexander abandoned trying to jerk himself off into sleep in favour of downing three bottles of his father’s most expensive vintage wine in an act of rebellion that he was quite sure would go completely unnoticed.
Four in the morning found him resoundingly drunk and perched on the slate-tiled roof of the manor, a bathrobe hanging loosely off his shoulders and his flannel pyjama trousers sticking to the slate shingles.
He fished out his phone. If he was going to be threatened into hunting down some rogue who was crazy enough to break his father’s rules, he might as well get off while doing it. He clicked on his recent calls, picked Tobias, and began typing out a message.
Alexander Damianos (04:16): Meet me at Quod, tomorrow at half past seven. It’s private enough.
He didn’t make it a question. Even though the librarian had stood him up just hours ago, something told him that the boy would come this time.
Message sent, he climbed back through the window and toppled into his bed, the silk of the sheets mercifully cool against his overheated skin. Sleep finally found him, dragging him under and pulling him into darkness that definitely wasn’t haunted by blond curls and blue eyes.