AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Shall we begin the ritual? I’ve everything ready.” He led me to a door at the back of the room.
“This will break the bond between Morio and me without hurting either one of us?” I looked at him anxiously, desperate to trust him, afraid to trust him.
“Yes. Better you break it now, because if you slept with him, the bond would be unshakable. Or if you drank his blood. You haven’t done either, have you? Tell me the truth.” He paused, his hand on the knob.
“No. Nothing. A lot of stolen glances. A kiss or two. But…no blood since my blood first healed him. And no sex. I think that’s why I fucked Roz the other night, and drank from him. I wanted Morio so much that…I used Roz as a substitute.” I hated admitting that—I didn’t like using my friends.
“I thought it was the doppelganger? A charm spell or something?”
I frowned. “I don’t know, to be honest. Six of one, half a dozen of the other, maybe? The drinking—yes, that was the doppelganger. The sex…I don’t know.”
“Well, at least you’ve not muddled things up too bad. Come now, we’ll break the bond and you will be free to go back to your old selves. However, he will retain the strength he gained from you during the transfusion. And he will retain the wild streak…”
I glanced at him. “I thought he’d become more feral since then.”
“Oh, no doubt, my love. And that will stay with him. I’m sure Camille has noticed by now? Has she not said anything to you?”
I shook my head. “No, she hasn’t. But she couldn’t be unaware…” And with that thought in my head, I followed him into the room, ready to close out at least one problem in my life.
Chapter 17
The room into which Roman led me was small and made me think of a shrine. It was laid out in an appalling shade of blue. Or rather than appalling, perhaps it was just overwhelming. I winced. The color itself was pretty—not sea green blue, but the glimmering blue of cobalt glass, so that I felt I was under the water in a swimming pool.
The room was simple, with a central console table, low to the ground, against the back wall. On that table rested a clear goblet, a large pillar candle, a small vial of—something—and a silver knife with a bone handle, along with a dozen red roses. The room was lit from glowing tiles in the walls. Two pillows rested in front of the table, the only other furniture. A white dress, simple and much like a Grecian tunic, hung on a hook on the wall.
“Change while I prepare for the ritual.” Roman turned and left me alone.
I knew enough not to poke around the altar. I didn’t want to muck this up in any way. I stepped out of my jeans and pulled off my shirt, and gracefully draped the gown over my head, tying the simple belt at the waist. It felt elegant and from another time. Looking around for a place to leave my clothes, I finally took them out of the room and put them in the parlor.
At that moment, Roman entered, wearing a long crimson robe, belted by a gold sash. A crown of gold rested on his head and his hair was loose, falling around his shoulders. He looked every inch a prince, and for the first time since I’d met him, the fact that he was the son of Blood Wyne hit home. My stomach thudded and I let out a little sound of surprise.
He seemed to notice. “Few have seen me in my court attire.” He did not ask if I liked it, merely motioned for me to reenter the chamber and followed behind me.
As we entered the room, I waited for his instruction.
“Kneel on the pillow to the right.”
I did. He closed the door and took his place opposite me. He looked so at ease, and I realized how little I knew of him and his heritage. Blood Wyne had risen again. Roman had talked about his mother, but had he told me everything about her? Had he been truthful about her intentions? And how could I find out?
“Do you know how the vampires came to be, Menolly?”
I shook my head. “No, I don’t know. It’s not something we learned in school, or that the OIA taught me when they brought me back to sanity.” I’d told Roman all about that time period—the year of madness and my slow fight back to sanity.
“No one knows how long ago it happened, but it was before recorded history, long before the Great Divide. Humans had risen to sentience and reasoning. And a shaman from a village desired immortality like the Fae.”
“But the Fae aren’t immortal. Even the elves die. Even the gods die,” I whispered.
“True,” Roman said, “but the mortals didn’t know that. Their life span compared to a Fae? A whisper on the wind. The shaman’s name was Kesana. At least, that’s the name we know for her. She decided she wanted the same immortality the Fae had. She went on a quest through the Dream-Time to find the answer, and instead she found demons…demons who fed off life energy.”
“Like Vanzir? Dream-chaser demons?”
Roman shrugged. “No one knows. All we know is that they promised her life unending if she would allow them to merge with her soul. And so, she agreed. The ritual took her down into death. She died and was reborn in the same body—but she was changed. The aging process had stopped, and her hunger for blood was strong.”
“The bloodlust…” I’d wondered how blood played into our mythology and background. Roman’s story rang true.
“Yes, the bloodlust. Kesana found that the more she fed on others—on their blood—the stronger she became. And her shamanic abilities allowed her to learn how to pass along the curse. She learned how to turn others. But instead of the demons merging with her victims, a little part of her own force brought about the change. That is how siring was born. She is the mother of us all.”
It made sense. Vampires were considered minor demons. “What happened to her? Kesana?”
