Blood Awakening

  Taking a step back from his frustration, Nachari offered a compromise: “I tell you what, if the spiked hair is the look, then why don’t we go into town—get a professional hair cut—so you can wear it spiked...with class.”

  Braden shook his head adamantly. “That’s just it, Nachari. No way am I cutting my hair.” He started to run a smooth hand through his locks, got stuck on a stiff patch of gel, and quickly placed it in his pocket, instead. Playing it off, he shrugged. “A brotha’s gotta be able to play it both ways, cool and classy. Feel me?”

  Nachari counted backward from ten to one. How in the world did the fellowship consider this an important skill of wizardry? Whatever. “Braden, I can assure you of one thing: you are not a brother. And why can’t one hair-style accomplish both?”

  Braden chuckled then, trying to sound older than he was. “The truth?”

  “By all means.”

  “Because, man, I need the spikes to be like Marquis—you know, a warrior. But I also need the waves to be like you—pull the women. ’Cause that, my brotha, oh man…”—he let out a deep, wistful sigh—“that’s da shizzle for da rizzle.” All at once, his body jerked unnaturally, and his right leg swung out from underneath him, causing him to lose his balance.

  Nachari jumped up, alarmed. “What’s wrong with your leg?” Vampires did not get muscle cramps, and they certainly did not have seizures.

  Braden righted himself, frowned, and looked away. “Uh, nothing. Nothing. It’s all good.”

  “Braden?” Nachari raised his eyebrows.

  Braden gazed at the floor and shook his head, exasperated. “Just a little dance move I’ve been working on, ah’ight?” He paused, and then looked up sheepishly. “Guess it needs a little more work.”

  Nachari bit his lower lip. Don’t laugh at the boy. Do-not-laugh. Do. Not— “I’ll tell you what: If you want to keep your hair long, then lose the spikes. If you want to keep the spikes, then you have to get it cut. End of discussion. As for da shizzle for da rizzle and the new dance moves, tone it down. Way down. Understand me?”

  Braden moped and bobbed his head in reluctant agreement. “Yeah...okay.”

  “Way down,” Nachari repeated.

  Braden nodded again and then folded his hands in front of him, looking suddenly lost.

  Nachari sat back down on the sofa and held out his left arm. “Now then, when was the last time you fed?”

  While most males in the house of Jadon only needed to feed every six to eight weeks, Braden’s body could only consume small amounts at a time—not because his system wasn’t fully converted, but because his once-human brain still resisted the notion of living off blood. Consequently, he had to feed a lot more often.

  “See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about!” Braden huffed. “Fine, you don’t want me to have spiked hair, I won’t. And fine! You don’t want me to talk like I’m cool, whatever, but dang, Nachari, why do you have to treat me like a girl?”

  Nachari stared at him, utterly perplexed. “What are we talking about now, Braden?”

  The kid sighed and began waving his arms emphatically as he spoke. “No self-respecting vampire feeds off his step-dad and his guardian. Off other males! That’s just embarrassing. All the other vampires my age hunt already.”

  Nachari considered the child’s words. “I understand your frustration, Braden, but do you really think you’re ready to hunt?”

  “Yes!” the kid exclaimed, his face flushing red.

  Nachari sighed. “Okay, then tell me this: How well can you discern a human spirit?”

  Braden’s top lip curled up in question. “What?”

  Nachari held his gaze. “Can you tell evil from good?”

  “Yeah, of course. I mean…I think so.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yeah, I think so! Why?”

  “Because it’s against our laws to take the life of an innocent, Braden. And even if you could identify a completely corrupt soul—verify that he or she is a predator against other humans—you would have to be able to isolate the person without being seen, attack so swiftly that they go down without a struggle, siphon enough blood to insure the kill, and then harness the necessary energy to incinerate the body. You think you’re ready for that?”

  Braden looked down, dejected, and shook his head. “No, but I was thinking more like...maybe I could hunt like you.”

  “Like me?”

  “Yeah, you know, forget the bad guys, just lure the pretty females.”

  Nachari sank back into the cushions and smiled. “Braden—”

  “Why not? I mean, you should see when some of us guys from the academy go into town—man, the human girls flip out!” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of crumpled-up pieces of paper. “See this? They’re phone numbers, Nachari. Chicks giving me their phone numbers! And I don’t even have to ask.”

  Nachari sighed. “Braden, there is no question that you are a handsome young man.” Far more striking than the child realized, actually: thank the gods. “And even if you weren’t, your vampire DNA would still attract women to you. It’s a powerful magnet, but the danger is far too great, especially for someone as inexperienced as you.”

  “Oh, ’cause now you think I’m gonna try and have sex with the female.”

  “No,” Nachari argued, “I was speaking in terms of manipulating kinetic energy and honing your hunting skills, not of having sex—even dogs can do that. But since you’re bringing it up, do we need to go back over the consequences of having sex with humans? The fact that pregnancy would kill your partner?”

  Braden rolled his eyes, clearly irritated. “Have vampires ever heard of condoms?”

  Nachari snarled a deep warning. “And if the condom breaks, she dies. Are you really that reckless—”

  “First of all, I’m not like a Dark One. I would never speak a pregnancy into being, knowing what could happen.”

  “What would happen! And you could kill her with just your strength alone, Braden! The power of a vampire, unleashed...unrestrained...you have no idea. Not to mention, you would most assuredly drain her of every last drop of blood even if you didn’t command a pregnancy. I repeat: you have no idea—the impulse to bite, the need to feed, how integral it is to the sex act.”

  Braden rolled his eyes.

  “Braden?”

  The kid huffed.

  “Braden?”

  “What!”

  “Are you listening to me?”

  He stomped his foot, his lips pursed together in aggravation. “Yeah…I’m listening.”

  “Good, then let’s just say, for the sake of argument, you go ahead and take one of those phone numbers out of your pocket—give a human girl a call. The next thing you know, the two of you are sitting on a bench somewhere, maybe side-by-side at the movies, and she whispers in your ear…or rubs up against you…or has a few too many buttons undone on her blouse: As sure as the sun sets in the west, every cell in your body will ache to drain her, right then and there, and we’re not even talking about being in some bedroom half-undressed. Trust me, Braden, you are not ready.”

  “Nachari,” Braden sighed, throwing up his hands, “I’m not—”

  “You’re damn straight you’re not!” Nachari snapped, his fangs beginning to advance in his mouth. “You’re fifteen years old, Braden. And while our species might mature faster than humans, you have had less than one year to adapt. Not to mention, a human female? Fifteen years old? That’s a child! With great power comes great responsibility—”

  “Damn!” The kid was practically jumping up and down now. “Nachari!”

  Nachari stared a hole right through him. “What?”

  “I’m not even thinking about having sex. Sheesh! I wasn’t even gonna call anyone.”

  Nachari looked at him warily. “Then why are you holding onto those numbers?”

  Tears of frustration welled up in the boy’s eyes, which clearly made him even more upset. “Because it makes me feel good”—he crossed hi
s arms and hunched his shoulders—“about myself. Okay?”

  Nachari met his gaze.

  Braden sighed and turned away. “Did it ever occur to you that it might be kind of nice to think that—maybe somewhere—someone sees me as better at something? Here, everything I do sucks. I’m like the worst vampire ever, no matter how hard I try. But to humans, I’m like a god. So yeah, I hang out with them sometimes, and yeah, I like it when the girls flirt with me. But I’m not stupid enough to try and have sex. Geez. You think I don’t know that I would probably suck at that, too? How much humiliation is one guy supposed to take? I just wish I could feed from human females instead of always having to take from you and my dad…that’s all. Forget it, already.” He sat down on the floor and crossed his legs, fighting to keep his tears at bay.

  Nachari felt like an idiot. He ran his hands through his thick mane of hair and took a deep breath. “Hey…Braden…I’m sorry, all right? I didn’t know you felt that way.”

  Braden shrugged. “Forget it.”

  Nachari shook his head. “You know, the last time I checked, you and Marquis were getting along pretty well, and if I recall, he said he was going to help you start working out—teach you a few weapons.”

  “Yeah, so.”

  “And if I recall, you were also feeling pretty good about everything you did to help save Jocelyn from Tristan and Willie—which means saving Nathaniel and Storm, too.” He looked at Braden and smiled. “And I must admit: You have been dressing like a righteous warrior instead of a... throw-back from the Dracula era. Major improvement.”

  Braden laughed then.

  “…which we’ve all been pleased with. So when did all that change?”

  Braden shook his head. “I guess it hasn’t. I mean, I can’t wait to hang out with Marquis sometime—although I’m kind of scared he’s gonna try and fry me with some lightning again if I mess up. When I mess up. But I do like my new wardrobe.” He smiled and raised his chin. “It is righteous, isn’t it?”

  “Absolutely,” Nachari replied.

  “I just...it’s just…man, you feed from like five or six females at once when you hunt, and you don’t kill any of them. I just wish I could do that, too.”

  Nachari smiled then. “You will one day, Braden, just not right now. You forget, I’ve been a vampire four-hundred ninety-nine years longer than you, and I spent four-hundred of those years at the Romanian University studying to become a Master. I feed from females because I prefer the softer taste of their blood. And I use so many because I don’t want to hurt any one individual by taking too much. And you’re right: I’d rather seduce pretty women than kill evil men—just my preference—but it takes a lot of concentration to put someone under a trance, bite a female and not take her…or kill her, know when to stop siphoning, and replace her memories with something else. I wouldn’t do it if I wasn’t absolutely sure of my control.”

  Braden cocked his head to the side. “So, are you telling me that you never go all the way with any of the females?” He smirked.

  Nachari shrugged. “All the way where, Braden?” He waved his hand, dismissing the question. “Gentlemen don’t kiss and tell, son.” He patted the sofa next to him. “Now then, I think part of the reason you’re getting so upset is, truly, because you need to feed.” He pointed at the leather-bound tome sitting on the couch next to him and picked it up. “Do you see this book?”

  Braden’s eyes grew wide as he leaned forward to take a closer look. “What is it?”

  “It’s the Blood Canon: the Ancient Book of Black Magic. It’s the Bible for those who practice Dark Magic. I took it from Salvatore’s lair.”

  Braden’s mouth flew open.

  “Do you know how important that secret is, Braden? In fact, you are the only person I’ve told so far.”

  Braden’s entire countenance changed. His features came alive. His shoulders, once again, fell back, and he held his head up high. “Cool!”

  “Yes, very cool. And I’m going to look a few things up right now…in absolute silence…because I need to concentrate. And I have a hunch or two.” He pointed at the sofa beside him. “And you, my young warrior, are going to come feed without any embarrassment whatsoever. Think about it this way: Our power is in the blood we consume, right?”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “Then you are not consuming the substance of a weak human but of a Master Wizard. So take advantage of the opportunity while you have it. I am never too ashamed to take from my brothers if I need it, nor are they ashamed to take from me. Do you understand?”

  Braden nodded, and Nachari could see the wheels turning in his head as he weighed the possibilities. He walked over to the couch with as much stealth as he could—for a boy who was a bit challenged when it came to being smooth—and knelt down on the floor in front of Nachari.

  Nachari avoided eye contact in an attempt to preserve the young man’s dignity. He pulled the book onto his lap, cradled it with his right arm, and laid his left hand, palm facing up, on the couch for the kid. “Go for it, buddy,” he murmured, opening the book with his free hand.

  Braden took Nachari’s forearm in both hands and struck a deep, clean blow. He was getting much better at biting, leaving far less of a mess to clean up. Nachari feigned a wince. “Ouch!”

  Braden snarled with satisfaction and began taking long, drugging pulls from the wizard’s arm.

  He switched them.

  Braden’s telepathic voice was barely a whisper in Nachari’s mind, his mouth still firmly attached to the wizard’s arm.

  Excuse me? Nachari asked.

  He switched them, Braden repeated. Salvatore: He switched the women.

  Nachari looked up from the passage he was reading in the dark text, and his heart skipped a beat. He stared at the young kid next to him and regarded his keen eyes. What Braden had just said surpassed the insight of a typical vampire. To divine such a thing was...well, unheard of...especially from a fifteen-year-old, use-to-be-human novice.

  Nachari’s curiosity piqued.

  He had already come to the same conclusion, but he was curious to know how Braden had determined such a thing. Explain yourself, he coaxed.

  Braden slowed his siphoning, released the suction-hold he had made with his mouth, and slowly withdrew his fangs from Nachari’s arm. His body swayed gently to the left as he tried to stand, still a tad bit drunk from the heady substance.

  Nachari caught him by the arm and eased him down onto the couch. As a stream of bright red blood trickled down his forearm, he realized the boy had forgotten to seal the wounds: Okay, so Braden’s brilliance was case-specific. Releasing his own incisors, he raised his arm to his mouth and dripped venom over the puncture wounds to seal them closed.

  “My bad,” Braden slurred.

  Nachari smiled and steered him right back to the previous subject. “What you just said, Braden, about Salvatore—explain.”

  Braden wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and leaned toward the book.

  “Do not touch it,” Nachari warned.

  Braden nodded and pointed to a circled stanza. “Read this.”

  Nachari read it aloud in its original Romanian form: “Lumina lui Dumnezeu atunci când apare în ceruri pentru a apela mai departe de sânge luna, umbra lui se stârni în abis.”

  And then, as if he had been born to the language, Braden interpreted the passage: “When the light god arises in the heavens to call forth the Blood Moon, his shadow shall stir in the Abyss.”

  Nachari was impressed as he continued: “În cazul în care lumină şi întuneric, împreună fi turnat, sânge torturaţi în nevinovăţie, sigilat, prin oferirea de ars; numele Sfintei se stornează.”

  “Should the light and the dark be poured out together, blood tortured in innocence, sealed through burnt offering; the name of the holy shall be reversed,” Braden repeated in English.

  “Lumina devine întuneric, şi întuneric devine lumina.”

  “Light shall become dark, and dark shall become light.” br />
  “Sigiliul de lumina se aplice la un suflet torturat şi de suflet, au obligaţia de a respecta întuneric se sigilează cu tortura.”

  “The seal of the light shall affix to a tortured soul, and the soul bound by darkness shall be sealed with torture.”

  Nachari looked at Braden like he had been born on another planet. “You were able to interpret all of that just by residing in my mind?”

  Braden shrugged. “Yep. You’re not that hard to read…wizard.”

  Nachari chuckled, impressed. “Very well then, explain to me how you came to your conclusion.”

  Braden rubbed the peach fuzz on his chin as if he was deep in thought, searching for the right words: “Well, for every Celestial Being in the heavens—every god or goddess in the galaxy—there’s a dark shadow twin in the Abyss, right? Down below in the Valley of Death and Shadows?”

  Nachari nodded. “Yes, there is. A dark lord or lady who can be called upon through the use of Black Magic, the shadow essence or deity of the original god or goddess.”

  “Right,” Braden said, “like when I was human, my dad believed in heaven and hell; so it’s like, for every angel in heaven there’s a matching demon in hell, only we’re dealing with gods and goddesses, and the heavens are literally the heavens.”

  Nachari shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. The youngster beside him no longer sounded like a confused little boy. “Very well said, Braden. Go on.”

  “Well, when the light god arises in the heavens to call forth the Blood Moon refers to one of the good celestial gods; in this case, Draco, right? Since that’s the god of Marquis’s constellation?”

  Nachari nodded.

  “Okay, so Draco, the light god, calls forth the Blood Moon for Marquis to finally give him his woman: his destiny.”

  “Go on.”

  “His shadow shall stir in the Abyss just means that Draco’s evil twin, down in the Valley of Death and Shadows, got all stirred up when Draco started to make things happen for Marquis. Like it woke him up or something.”

  “Hmm,” Nachari said, “I think you might actually have the gift of knowledge; you certainly have a talent for explaining things.”