Story - Embrace ch. 12
Jun. 30th, 2008 07:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maderrI actually wrote most of this at work, during my lunch, because it would not leave me alone.
I fear I am predictable, but I guess a good predictable, so I shall have to live with that.
Aubrey groaned, eyes fluttering as he battled sleep to stay conscious. Groaning again, he slowly found purchase and struggled to sit up.
"Stay still," said a gentle voice, and after a moment he realized it was Stregoni in doctor mode.
He grunted and ignored the command – but it took it more slowly after a wave of dizzy promptly dropped him back down upon the bed. "What—where—Streg, what's going on?"
"You've been asleep a little over a day," Stregoni said.
That he remembered – well, passing out he sort of remembered. Whatever Ruthven had done, by the end of it all Aubrey had felt weak as a baby. Only his refusal to drop before Ruthven was safely in their bed had kept him from passing out sooner.
He slowly turned his head to look at Stregoni, who was slumped tiredly on a stool pulled close to the bed.
"You look exhausted," he said, immediately feeling guilty. Of course it would be Stregoni who took care of them all. Then everything came rushing back to him. "Ruthven. Gille. How are they?"
Not waiting for a reply, he turned to look at the other half of the bed, relief undoing the knot in his chest as he saw that Ruthven looked no different than the last time he'd gone into a deep sleep.
"Ruthven is fine," Stregoni said, yawning. "Gille is sleeping at least as hard, but seems okay otherwise." He frowned.
That drew Aubrey's attention to something else he'd noted during the awful night. "Stregoni…how long have you been in love with Gille?" Because there was no mistaking the way Stregoni had looked bent over an unconscious and – at the time – very likely dead Gille.
Stregoni flinched at the question, and did not reply.
Aubrey didn't press it, not really able to comprehend it, and still too tired to try and figure it out.
"Carmilla is not getting any better," Stregoni said.
"Milla?" Aubrey said, snapped from where he'd turned back to Ruthven. "What's wrong with Milla?"
Stregoni shook his head. "I don't know. She's been sick since last night – I think the shock and the fear were too much for her frail body. She is sleeping, as well." He sighed and rubbed his forehead tiredly, and the shadows beneath his eyes suddenly looked all the worse.
"What time is it?" Aubrey asked.
"Coming on eight o'clock," Stregoni said, smiling weakly. "I was beginning to think the lot of you would sleep forever. Your father is downstairs in his study. Blackfield and his wife are confined to their rooms until Lord Sangre sees fit to let them return home. He is, to say the least, quite furious with them. We still cannot find William. Elisabeth managed to confirm for us that we were, indeed, poisoned – but it seems to be a poison which affects just Pets."
Aubrey frowned. "That makes no sense. What is the point?"
Stregoni shrugged. "I do not know. If your father has figured something out, he has not said." He stood up slowly, grasping the bed for balance.
"You are dead on your feet," Aubrey said, sliding slowly from the bed himself. "Go rest, Streg. You will probably be needed later, so it's better that you rest now. I can manage until you wake, just tell me what to do."
"Nothing," Stregoni said. "Keep an eye on your sister, make her drink her tonic whenever she stirs. Try to make your father sleep. Check on Gille, but he should be fine, I think. Whatever your odd Pet did, he will be fine once he wakes."
Aubrey shifted his gaze to Ruthven, fast asleep and perfectly still, like some exotic doll stretched out on his bed. "Yes, my odd Pet. That is still another question that will require an answer at a later date."
Likely his father would be bellowing for those very answer. Stifling a sigh, Aubrey took Stregoni by the arm and all but dragged him from the room and towards his own – but he hesitated halfway there, remembering the look upon Stregoni's face when he thought Gille would die.
He did not understand it. His cousin was a bastard of the highest order…but there was no mistaking that look, and Stregoni was more his brother than his friend. If there were answers to be had about the oddity of it, he would get them later.
Changing directions, he guided Stregoni to Gille's door.
"What?" Stregoni said, struggling to break free. "I don't think—"
"Just go rest," Aubrey said, opening the door and pushing him inside.
When Stregoni did not move, he pushed him toward and onto the bed.
"This is a bad idea," Stregoni said, looking around the richly appointed room as though he expected something to leap out and bite him. Then his eyes landed on Gille, and he forgot to keep struggling. "He'll kill me," he said softly.
Aubrey snorted. "I doubt Gille will be capable of fluffing his own pillow when he wakes. You're worried about him, so stay here and keep an eye on him. I'll be busy with other things. Tug the bell pull if there's a problem."
He did not wait for a reply, but strode from the room, closing the door firmly behind him.
In the hallway, he had to rest a bit, wait for the world to steady beneath him.
First thing was first – he needed to get cleaned up and changed, then find food.
Then…then he would have to go and speak with his father, and see what the two of them could figure out, as there was simply no one else to do it.
He returned to his bedroom and fumbled to pull out fresh clothes, ringing for a servant. Turning away from his wardrobe, his gaze landed absently on the window.
Outside, the snow had resumed falling – and it looked as though it had been falling for some time, and rather heavily. Just a few days ago it had begun to melt. Now they were once more being consumed by winter. The moonlight made all the snow glow, where it slipped through between the heavy clouds.
It was, he thought, rather like being caught in a dream.
He turned and looked at Ruthven.
Perhaps nightmare was the more accurate term.
Hearing the servant arrive, he bundled his clothes together and went to order a bath and food.
Two hours later, he wanted only to go back to bed. Another pot of tea would take care of the worst of the exhaustion, but he still would rather linger here and make certain Ruthven would be all right.
"What are you?" he asked softly, brushing back a strand of Ruthven's hair. It was as eerie now as it had been the first time Ruthven had gone into a deep sleep.
Exertion, that was obviously the reason behind it. But what had Ruthven done the first time to exhaust himself? Hell, he still wasn't certain he knew what Ruthven had done this time. Saved Gille by taking Aubrey's blood – that's what it seemed like, anyway.
Shaking his head, allowing himself one more glance at his too-still Pet, Aubrey turned away and left his rooms.
Downstairs, he knocked on the door to his father's study, then pushed the door opened when he heard something.
His father was sitting at his desk, for once not dressed to the hilt, but sitting in nothing more than his shirtsleeves, rolled up as he read through various books.
Books Aubrey knew he'd never seen before, and he was doubly sure of it when he drew enough to read the titles. "Where have these been?" he demanded.
Sangre looked up at him, tired and angry – but amused. "In my room," he said calmly. "Where sons with a tendency to defy me would not find them."
Aubrey glared, but could not muster the energy to be truly angry.
"You should still be resting," Sangre replied.
"So should you," Aubrey shot back. "What have you learned?"
Sangre set down a book he'd been reading, leaning back in his seat and scrubbing at his face tiredly. "Call for tea, would you?"
"I already told them to bring it here," Aubrey said. "Tell me."
"Patience, Brey," Sangre muttered. "I knew what was going on the moment the word poison came up." He sighed and picked up one of the books on his desk, rifling through the pages, then turned and pushed it toward Aubrey. "I believe poor Francois was killed by an extract made from the garlic flower," he said quietly. "I have seen its affect upon vampires only once before."
Aubrey startled, looking at his father. "What did you call them?"
"Vampires?" Sangre asked, mouth quirking in amusement. "Your mother and I never called Mina our Pet – she was always just a vampire to us. We believed, once, that half the battle was overcoming the Pet stigma, and that so long as they were called Pets, that was all they'd ever be."
Nodding, still not certain how to handle the fact his strict father had once fought to free Pets, Aubrey glanced down at the book. "Garlic flower?"
"Yes," Sangre said, still sounding far too amused. "Vampires are, for reasons unknown, highly allergic to all parts of the garlic plant. Usually, it's not a problem – humans do not ingest enough of it, on those occasions we do, to cause vampires real harm. Most are not even aware of the problem. Those that are, take care to feed their Pets well before or well after they have eaten. Even if they don't, the worst that happens is that the vampire takes sick for a little while. A case of vampire poisoning has not occurred in many years."
Aubrey frowned. "Why?" he asked. "I don't understand who would have done this, and why."
Sangre leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms over his chest. "I think our culprit is William – that much is obvious by the way he has vanished. We will run him to ground, eventually. This weather hinders him as much as us. The why eludes me – I can only assume it has something to do with the fuss Gille and I raised over the way Stregoni was treated. A bit of an overreaction, which leads me to conclude William did not quite mean things to go as they did."
"Francois is dead," Aubrey said quietly. "I never cared for him, but he had nothing to do with this – what exactly happened?"
"He had enough garlic, ingested through the feeding, that it simply drove him crazy. It would have made him crave still more blood, in an attempt to find untainted food, but the more he ingested, the worse it became. He finally died from simply having taken in too much."
Aubrey closed his eyes. "I never thought I'd say it, but poor Gille. I might not of been fond of Francois, but I'm sure he was, after a fashion."
"You might try saying 'poor Gille' more often," his father said in a tone of quiet reprimand. "There is more to your cousin than you have ever bothered to learn." He grunted softly. "Though, that certainly goes both ways."
"If you say so," Aubrey said, but couldn't muster the will to really argue, not when he remembered Stregoni's face. For his best friend to feel that way...either Gille was more of a monster than he'd always believed, or far less of one.
He put the thought aside to deal with later, one more on what was going to be a very long list.
"How did Gille survive?" Sangre asked. "I saw him, before I went downstairs to find Francois and William. He should not be alive. Ruthven has fallen into his strange, deep sleep again -- I cannot think the two are unrelated."
Aubrey hesitated.
"Tell me," Sangre said firmly. "I seriously doubt you can anything to shock me, not after what has already transpired...and what I used to do."
"Ruthven...did something..." Aubrey said slowly. "He drank my blood...and then, I think, gave it to Gille. I don't know, it was very strange."
Sangre went still. "What?" he asked softly. "Are you certain?"
"As certain as I can be," Aubrey said, scowling at the desktop. He glanced up at his father, who had a strange look on his face. It was part disbelief, part suspicion...and Aubrey swore he almost looked excited.
Standing, Sangre began to rifle through his books in earnest, setting several aside after flipping through them, all but tossing some aside in his impatience. "Are you positive that is what happened, Brey?" Sangre demanded.
"I don't know," Aubrey snapped. "I said it was all very strange, and he fed from me three different times. To the best of my knowledge, yes, that is what happened. Who can say for certain though? I was half asleep and scared at the time." He covered his face with his hand for a moment. "There was blood everywhere."
"Hmm," Sangre said absently, then gave a soft "Ah ha!" and sat back down again. "Here we are - medical treatises on vampires. Most of them are concerning the blood fixation – that a vampire can only feed from the human from whom he first takes blood." He opened the book and gave it to Aubrey. "The accepted theory is that despite bonds of family, each person's blood is in some way wholly unique. This was one argument for never freeing Pets – they could not survive without their masters, and so would be slaves anyway."
Aubrey frowned as he read, eyes snapping open wide as he comprehended the words. "This...proposes that's not true." He looked up at his father. "What in the hell are you doing with so many illegal books."
Sangre snorted in amusement. "Jealous?"
Glaring, Aubrey looked back down at the book. "This says that there are different kinds of blood, but not as unique as we currently believe..."
"Yes," Sangre said. "Vampires can only feed on the blood of their masters. If they tried to feed off someone else, it would not suffice. They would starve. This would indicate that no two people have exactly the same kind of blood...yet Ruthven used your blood to save Gille."
Aubrey frowned in thought. "Maybe it's only a difference that affects vampires, not humans."
"That could be," Sangre agreed. "Most of us did not believe it, though. If it were true, the vampires would not have thrived as they did for so long, before they agreed to being enslaved."
"What!" Aubrey dropped the book he was holding. "What in the hell do you mean 'agreed to being enslaved'?"
Sangre quirked a brow. "The situation is far more complicated than you can possibly imagine, Brey."
"Not for lack of trying," Aubrey snapped. "You're the one who won't let me get involved."
"For your own good," Sangre said, voice taking on a heat of its own. "The people who killed your mother will not hesitate to kill you too! That should be obvious."
"So what?" Aubrey snarled. "Everything comes at a risk."
He started to say more, but the shadows which appeared in his father's eyes stopped him short.
"And what," Sangre said quietly, "would you do if one day they killed your sister, instead of you? That is what they did to me. I ignored their threats, determined to take them on -- and instead they killed your mother and Mina. Is that what you want, Brey? Let the past lie."
Biting back an angry curse, Aubrey bent to pick up the dropped book. Silence fell for several minutes, until at last he forced himself to stir. "What was all that nonsense about vampires choosing enslavement?"
"Oh, how long ago is it now? Well over a hundred years. Must be closer to a hundred and fifty now..." Sangre sighed. "It is buried knowledge, like so much else where the vampires are concerned. They were created by mistake, though I could never learn anything more than that." He glared at his books; clearly this was a sore point. "Anyway, they got out of control, or so it's said. It was decided by everyone, including the leader of the vampires - the Prince, they called him -- that it would be best if his race was annihilated. If they continued to grow in power and numbers, they would eventually destroy the human race."
Aubrey frowned. "That seems cruel."
"Yes," Sangre said. "There were many vampires who disagreed, obviously, with their Prince. One week before the agreement was to be signed, the Prince died. It was, naturally, an accident. No one believed it for a moment, but no one could ever figure out who actually did it. So an accident it remains. Someone else stepped into his place, and agreed to his people's enslavement rather than their demise."
"How...how do you know all this?"
Sangre smiled sadly. "Because once I believed very strongly in freeing them, and took a great many risks to learn all I possibly good. Many secrets cost me gold, others cost me favors...and some cost me blood. In the end, I paid a price I could not bear." He toyed with the wedding ring he still wore, turning it round and round, the heavy ruby set in it glinting in the fire light. "When I found you, Brey,' he said, not looking up, "you were covered in blood. You did not stop crying for nearly a week. It was much longer before you stopped calling for your mother and Mina."
Aubrey looked down at his own hands, not certain what to say. His father had never volunteered such information before, and he was at a loss as to what to do with it.
A servant knocked on the door, announcing the arrival of the requested tea.
Sangre coughed, and Aubrey stood to fetch the tea and pour for both of them. When they were both settled again, Sangre spoke. "The authorities came while you were all asleep, and spoke with Stregoni and I. They are presently scouring the countryside for William, and have issued alerts to other villages. One way or another, we will find the bastard."
"What will we do with him?" Aubrey said, his imagination supplying plenty of satisfying methods of revenge.
"That will be determined after we catch him, and all affected parties are able to decide," Sangre replied, the tone of his voice implying that his own imagination was just as satisfying.
Aubrey took a sip of his tea, dark and sweet, staring at it a moment before finally speaking again. "Stregoni said Carmilla has taken a turn for the worse."
"Yes," Sangre said, face turning dark and stony. "If she does not recover in the next few days...I..." He trailed off, staring at his own tea, looking troubled.
Aubrey did not press him to finish.
He struggled to think of something else to say, mouth quirking as something indeed came to him. "Stregoni said you are keeping the Blackfields hostage."
"Yes," Sangre said, his own mouth quirking, and for a moment father and son looked very much alike. "I would go and fetch their son, but in light of what I learned from Gille, I feel perhaps the lad is doing better without their overzealous fretting. Stregoni will likely go see to the boy once everyone here is doing better."
"You mean once Gille is awake," Aubrey muttered, then realized he'd spoken the thought aloud.
His father only laughed however. "Noticed that too, eh? I tried to speak to Gille about it, but he will not discuss it. If there was one trait I wish my brother and I had not passed on as well as we did, it would be the obstinance.
Aubrey snorted, unable to argue that one. There was no denying that they all of them were a trifle to stubborn, from his father to Carmilla to himself and right on to Gille. "Is your brother obstinate, too, then?"
"Yes," Sangre said. "Far more than me, even." He frowned, then shook his head. "We have enough problems, without discussing my idiot brother."
"You know, he's the only one you talk about less than mother."
Sangre looked up, every line of age showing in his face now. "We neither of us could handle losing the women we love. I have dealt with it better than him, but not by much. Gille would not want it discussed, for he is ferociously guarded about such things, but if I had not taken him from his father I have no doubt he would be dead. There is..an arrangement, I guess you might say. I raise Gille, he leaves all of us alone."
Aubrey nodded, feeling more tired than ever. Secrets and secrets -- how much more of his life and family had never been told to him? Why was he so damnably ignorant?"
"This is the second time your Pet has gone to sleep like this," Sangre said suddenly. "Why did he do it the first time?"
"I don't know," Aubrey said. "Though, uh, there were things about that night I never told, that I guess I should tell now."
Sangre's brows went up. "Do tell."
Wincing, Aubrey told him all that had actually transpired.
When he finished, Sangre leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest, and simply sat thinking for several long moments.
Aubrey sat nervously, wondering if they were about to get into another shouting match -- and realized he'd rather enjoyed that so far there had been no voice raising at all. Not even a moderate loss of temper.
He and his father were getting along. How strange.
"Your vampire," Sangre said at last, "is the strangest thing I've ever heard about. Nothing I've ever read would account for such behavior. He sounds more like the stuff of myth and legend, all of it utter rot and nonsense."
Aubrey grimaced. "I guess that's what we get for letting Gille do the shopping."
"I'll be certain to take him to task for it," Sangre said, smiling.
Before he could catch himself, Aubrey smiled back.
I fear I am predictable, but I guess a good predictable, so I shall have to live with that.
Blue Convolvulus
(chapter twelve)
(chapter twelve)
Aubrey groaned, eyes fluttering as he battled sleep to stay conscious. Groaning again, he slowly found purchase and struggled to sit up.
"Stay still," said a gentle voice, and after a moment he realized it was Stregoni in doctor mode.
He grunted and ignored the command – but it took it more slowly after a wave of dizzy promptly dropped him back down upon the bed. "What—where—Streg, what's going on?"
"You've been asleep a little over a day," Stregoni said.
That he remembered – well, passing out he sort of remembered. Whatever Ruthven had done, by the end of it all Aubrey had felt weak as a baby. Only his refusal to drop before Ruthven was safely in their bed had kept him from passing out sooner.
He slowly turned his head to look at Stregoni, who was slumped tiredly on a stool pulled close to the bed.
"You look exhausted," he said, immediately feeling guilty. Of course it would be Stregoni who took care of them all. Then everything came rushing back to him. "Ruthven. Gille. How are they?"
Not waiting for a reply, he turned to look at the other half of the bed, relief undoing the knot in his chest as he saw that Ruthven looked no different than the last time he'd gone into a deep sleep.
"Ruthven is fine," Stregoni said, yawning. "Gille is sleeping at least as hard, but seems okay otherwise." He frowned.
That drew Aubrey's attention to something else he'd noted during the awful night. "Stregoni…how long have you been in love with Gille?" Because there was no mistaking the way Stregoni had looked bent over an unconscious and – at the time – very likely dead Gille.
Stregoni flinched at the question, and did not reply.
Aubrey didn't press it, not really able to comprehend it, and still too tired to try and figure it out.
"Carmilla is not getting any better," Stregoni said.
"Milla?" Aubrey said, snapped from where he'd turned back to Ruthven. "What's wrong with Milla?"
Stregoni shook his head. "I don't know. She's been sick since last night – I think the shock and the fear were too much for her frail body. She is sleeping, as well." He sighed and rubbed his forehead tiredly, and the shadows beneath his eyes suddenly looked all the worse.
"What time is it?" Aubrey asked.
"Coming on eight o'clock," Stregoni said, smiling weakly. "I was beginning to think the lot of you would sleep forever. Your father is downstairs in his study. Blackfield and his wife are confined to their rooms until Lord Sangre sees fit to let them return home. He is, to say the least, quite furious with them. We still cannot find William. Elisabeth managed to confirm for us that we were, indeed, poisoned – but it seems to be a poison which affects just Pets."
Aubrey frowned. "That makes no sense. What is the point?"
Stregoni shrugged. "I do not know. If your father has figured something out, he has not said." He stood up slowly, grasping the bed for balance.
"You are dead on your feet," Aubrey said, sliding slowly from the bed himself. "Go rest, Streg. You will probably be needed later, so it's better that you rest now. I can manage until you wake, just tell me what to do."
"Nothing," Stregoni said. "Keep an eye on your sister, make her drink her tonic whenever she stirs. Try to make your father sleep. Check on Gille, but he should be fine, I think. Whatever your odd Pet did, he will be fine once he wakes."
Aubrey shifted his gaze to Ruthven, fast asleep and perfectly still, like some exotic doll stretched out on his bed. "Yes, my odd Pet. That is still another question that will require an answer at a later date."
Likely his father would be bellowing for those very answer. Stifling a sigh, Aubrey took Stregoni by the arm and all but dragged him from the room and towards his own – but he hesitated halfway there, remembering the look upon Stregoni's face when he thought Gille would die.
He did not understand it. His cousin was a bastard of the highest order…but there was no mistaking that look, and Stregoni was more his brother than his friend. If there were answers to be had about the oddity of it, he would get them later.
Changing directions, he guided Stregoni to Gille's door.
"What?" Stregoni said, struggling to break free. "I don't think—"
"Just go rest," Aubrey said, opening the door and pushing him inside.
When Stregoni did not move, he pushed him toward and onto the bed.
"This is a bad idea," Stregoni said, looking around the richly appointed room as though he expected something to leap out and bite him. Then his eyes landed on Gille, and he forgot to keep struggling. "He'll kill me," he said softly.
Aubrey snorted. "I doubt Gille will be capable of fluffing his own pillow when he wakes. You're worried about him, so stay here and keep an eye on him. I'll be busy with other things. Tug the bell pull if there's a problem."
He did not wait for a reply, but strode from the room, closing the door firmly behind him.
In the hallway, he had to rest a bit, wait for the world to steady beneath him.
First thing was first – he needed to get cleaned up and changed, then find food.
Then…then he would have to go and speak with his father, and see what the two of them could figure out, as there was simply no one else to do it.
He returned to his bedroom and fumbled to pull out fresh clothes, ringing for a servant. Turning away from his wardrobe, his gaze landed absently on the window.
Outside, the snow had resumed falling – and it looked as though it had been falling for some time, and rather heavily. Just a few days ago it had begun to melt. Now they were once more being consumed by winter. The moonlight made all the snow glow, where it slipped through between the heavy clouds.
It was, he thought, rather like being caught in a dream.
He turned and looked at Ruthven.
Perhaps nightmare was the more accurate term.
Hearing the servant arrive, he bundled his clothes together and went to order a bath and food.
Two hours later, he wanted only to go back to bed. Another pot of tea would take care of the worst of the exhaustion, but he still would rather linger here and make certain Ruthven would be all right.
"What are you?" he asked softly, brushing back a strand of Ruthven's hair. It was as eerie now as it had been the first time Ruthven had gone into a deep sleep.
Exertion, that was obviously the reason behind it. But what had Ruthven done the first time to exhaust himself? Hell, he still wasn't certain he knew what Ruthven had done this time. Saved Gille by taking Aubrey's blood – that's what it seemed like, anyway.
Shaking his head, allowing himself one more glance at his too-still Pet, Aubrey turned away and left his rooms.
Downstairs, he knocked on the door to his father's study, then pushed the door opened when he heard something.
His father was sitting at his desk, for once not dressed to the hilt, but sitting in nothing more than his shirtsleeves, rolled up as he read through various books.
Books Aubrey knew he'd never seen before, and he was doubly sure of it when he drew enough to read the titles. "Where have these been?" he demanded.
Sangre looked up at him, tired and angry – but amused. "In my room," he said calmly. "Where sons with a tendency to defy me would not find them."
Aubrey glared, but could not muster the energy to be truly angry.
"You should still be resting," Sangre replied.
"So should you," Aubrey shot back. "What have you learned?"
Sangre set down a book he'd been reading, leaning back in his seat and scrubbing at his face tiredly. "Call for tea, would you?"
"I already told them to bring it here," Aubrey said. "Tell me."
"Patience, Brey," Sangre muttered. "I knew what was going on the moment the word poison came up." He sighed and picked up one of the books on his desk, rifling through the pages, then turned and pushed it toward Aubrey. "I believe poor Francois was killed by an extract made from the garlic flower," he said quietly. "I have seen its affect upon vampires only once before."
Aubrey startled, looking at his father. "What did you call them?"
"Vampires?" Sangre asked, mouth quirking in amusement. "Your mother and I never called Mina our Pet – she was always just a vampire to us. We believed, once, that half the battle was overcoming the Pet stigma, and that so long as they were called Pets, that was all they'd ever be."
Nodding, still not certain how to handle the fact his strict father had once fought to free Pets, Aubrey glanced down at the book. "Garlic flower?"
"Yes," Sangre said, still sounding far too amused. "Vampires are, for reasons unknown, highly allergic to all parts of the garlic plant. Usually, it's not a problem – humans do not ingest enough of it, on those occasions we do, to cause vampires real harm. Most are not even aware of the problem. Those that are, take care to feed their Pets well before or well after they have eaten. Even if they don't, the worst that happens is that the vampire takes sick for a little while. A case of vampire poisoning has not occurred in many years."
Aubrey frowned. "Why?" he asked. "I don't understand who would have done this, and why."
Sangre leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms over his chest. "I think our culprit is William – that much is obvious by the way he has vanished. We will run him to ground, eventually. This weather hinders him as much as us. The why eludes me – I can only assume it has something to do with the fuss Gille and I raised over the way Stregoni was treated. A bit of an overreaction, which leads me to conclude William did not quite mean things to go as they did."
"Francois is dead," Aubrey said quietly. "I never cared for him, but he had nothing to do with this – what exactly happened?"
"He had enough garlic, ingested through the feeding, that it simply drove him crazy. It would have made him crave still more blood, in an attempt to find untainted food, but the more he ingested, the worse it became. He finally died from simply having taken in too much."
Aubrey closed his eyes. "I never thought I'd say it, but poor Gille. I might not of been fond of Francois, but I'm sure he was, after a fashion."
"You might try saying 'poor Gille' more often," his father said in a tone of quiet reprimand. "There is more to your cousin than you have ever bothered to learn." He grunted softly. "Though, that certainly goes both ways."
"If you say so," Aubrey said, but couldn't muster the will to really argue, not when he remembered Stregoni's face. For his best friend to feel that way...either Gille was more of a monster than he'd always believed, or far less of one.
He put the thought aside to deal with later, one more on what was going to be a very long list.
"How did Gille survive?" Sangre asked. "I saw him, before I went downstairs to find Francois and William. He should not be alive. Ruthven has fallen into his strange, deep sleep again -- I cannot think the two are unrelated."
Aubrey hesitated.
"Tell me," Sangre said firmly. "I seriously doubt you can anything to shock me, not after what has already transpired...and what I used to do."
"Ruthven...did something..." Aubrey said slowly. "He drank my blood...and then, I think, gave it to Gille. I don't know, it was very strange."
Sangre went still. "What?" he asked softly. "Are you certain?"
"As certain as I can be," Aubrey said, scowling at the desktop. He glanced up at his father, who had a strange look on his face. It was part disbelief, part suspicion...and Aubrey swore he almost looked excited.
Standing, Sangre began to rifle through his books in earnest, setting several aside after flipping through them, all but tossing some aside in his impatience. "Are you positive that is what happened, Brey?" Sangre demanded.
"I don't know," Aubrey snapped. "I said it was all very strange, and he fed from me three different times. To the best of my knowledge, yes, that is what happened. Who can say for certain though? I was half asleep and scared at the time." He covered his face with his hand for a moment. "There was blood everywhere."
"Hmm," Sangre said absently, then gave a soft "Ah ha!" and sat back down again. "Here we are - medical treatises on vampires. Most of them are concerning the blood fixation – that a vampire can only feed from the human from whom he first takes blood." He opened the book and gave it to Aubrey. "The accepted theory is that despite bonds of family, each person's blood is in some way wholly unique. This was one argument for never freeing Pets – they could not survive without their masters, and so would be slaves anyway."
Aubrey frowned as he read, eyes snapping open wide as he comprehended the words. "This...proposes that's not true." He looked up at his father. "What in the hell are you doing with so many illegal books."
Sangre snorted in amusement. "Jealous?"
Glaring, Aubrey looked back down at the book. "This says that there are different kinds of blood, but not as unique as we currently believe..."
"Yes," Sangre said. "Vampires can only feed on the blood of their masters. If they tried to feed off someone else, it would not suffice. They would starve. This would indicate that no two people have exactly the same kind of blood...yet Ruthven used your blood to save Gille."
Aubrey frowned in thought. "Maybe it's only a difference that affects vampires, not humans."
"That could be," Sangre agreed. "Most of us did not believe it, though. If it were true, the vampires would not have thrived as they did for so long, before they agreed to being enslaved."
"What!" Aubrey dropped the book he was holding. "What in the hell do you mean 'agreed to being enslaved'?"
Sangre quirked a brow. "The situation is far more complicated than you can possibly imagine, Brey."
"Not for lack of trying," Aubrey snapped. "You're the one who won't let me get involved."
"For your own good," Sangre said, voice taking on a heat of its own. "The people who killed your mother will not hesitate to kill you too! That should be obvious."
"So what?" Aubrey snarled. "Everything comes at a risk."
He started to say more, but the shadows which appeared in his father's eyes stopped him short.
"And what," Sangre said quietly, "would you do if one day they killed your sister, instead of you? That is what they did to me. I ignored their threats, determined to take them on -- and instead they killed your mother and Mina. Is that what you want, Brey? Let the past lie."
Biting back an angry curse, Aubrey bent to pick up the dropped book. Silence fell for several minutes, until at last he forced himself to stir. "What was all that nonsense about vampires choosing enslavement?"
"Oh, how long ago is it now? Well over a hundred years. Must be closer to a hundred and fifty now..." Sangre sighed. "It is buried knowledge, like so much else where the vampires are concerned. They were created by mistake, though I could never learn anything more than that." He glared at his books; clearly this was a sore point. "Anyway, they got out of control, or so it's said. It was decided by everyone, including the leader of the vampires - the Prince, they called him -- that it would be best if his race was annihilated. If they continued to grow in power and numbers, they would eventually destroy the human race."
Aubrey frowned. "That seems cruel."
"Yes," Sangre said. "There were many vampires who disagreed, obviously, with their Prince. One week before the agreement was to be signed, the Prince died. It was, naturally, an accident. No one believed it for a moment, but no one could ever figure out who actually did it. So an accident it remains. Someone else stepped into his place, and agreed to his people's enslavement rather than their demise."
"How...how do you know all this?"
Sangre smiled sadly. "Because once I believed very strongly in freeing them, and took a great many risks to learn all I possibly good. Many secrets cost me gold, others cost me favors...and some cost me blood. In the end, I paid a price I could not bear." He toyed with the wedding ring he still wore, turning it round and round, the heavy ruby set in it glinting in the fire light. "When I found you, Brey,' he said, not looking up, "you were covered in blood. You did not stop crying for nearly a week. It was much longer before you stopped calling for your mother and Mina."
Aubrey looked down at his own hands, not certain what to say. His father had never volunteered such information before, and he was at a loss as to what to do with it.
A servant knocked on the door, announcing the arrival of the requested tea.
Sangre coughed, and Aubrey stood to fetch the tea and pour for both of them. When they were both settled again, Sangre spoke. "The authorities came while you were all asleep, and spoke with Stregoni and I. They are presently scouring the countryside for William, and have issued alerts to other villages. One way or another, we will find the bastard."
"What will we do with him?" Aubrey said, his imagination supplying plenty of satisfying methods of revenge.
"That will be determined after we catch him, and all affected parties are able to decide," Sangre replied, the tone of his voice implying that his own imagination was just as satisfying.
Aubrey took a sip of his tea, dark and sweet, staring at it a moment before finally speaking again. "Stregoni said Carmilla has taken a turn for the worse."
"Yes," Sangre said, face turning dark and stony. "If she does not recover in the next few days...I..." He trailed off, staring at his own tea, looking troubled.
Aubrey did not press him to finish.
He struggled to think of something else to say, mouth quirking as something indeed came to him. "Stregoni said you are keeping the Blackfields hostage."
"Yes," Sangre said, his own mouth quirking, and for a moment father and son looked very much alike. "I would go and fetch their son, but in light of what I learned from Gille, I feel perhaps the lad is doing better without their overzealous fretting. Stregoni will likely go see to the boy once everyone here is doing better."
"You mean once Gille is awake," Aubrey muttered, then realized he'd spoken the thought aloud.
His father only laughed however. "Noticed that too, eh? I tried to speak to Gille about it, but he will not discuss it. If there was one trait I wish my brother and I had not passed on as well as we did, it would be the obstinance.
Aubrey snorted, unable to argue that one. There was no denying that they all of them were a trifle to stubborn, from his father to Carmilla to himself and right on to Gille. "Is your brother obstinate, too, then?"
"Yes," Sangre said. "Far more than me, even." He frowned, then shook his head. "We have enough problems, without discussing my idiot brother."
"You know, he's the only one you talk about less than mother."
Sangre looked up, every line of age showing in his face now. "We neither of us could handle losing the women we love. I have dealt with it better than him, but not by much. Gille would not want it discussed, for he is ferociously guarded about such things, but if I had not taken him from his father I have no doubt he would be dead. There is..an arrangement, I guess you might say. I raise Gille, he leaves all of us alone."
Aubrey nodded, feeling more tired than ever. Secrets and secrets -- how much more of his life and family had never been told to him? Why was he so damnably ignorant?"
"This is the second time your Pet has gone to sleep like this," Sangre said suddenly. "Why did he do it the first time?"
"I don't know," Aubrey said. "Though, uh, there were things about that night I never told, that I guess I should tell now."
Sangre's brows went up. "Do tell."
Wincing, Aubrey told him all that had actually transpired.
When he finished, Sangre leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest, and simply sat thinking for several long moments.
Aubrey sat nervously, wondering if they were about to get into another shouting match -- and realized he'd rather enjoyed that so far there had been no voice raising at all. Not even a moderate loss of temper.
He and his father were getting along. How strange.
"Your vampire," Sangre said at last, "is the strangest thing I've ever heard about. Nothing I've ever read would account for such behavior. He sounds more like the stuff of myth and legend, all of it utter rot and nonsense."
Aubrey grimaced. "I guess that's what we get for letting Gille do the shopping."
"I'll be certain to take him to task for it," Sangre said, smiling.
Before he could catch himself, Aubrey smiled back.
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Date: 2008-07-01 12:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-01 12:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-01 12:31 am (UTC)I had not even considered garlic, flower or not. I love your brain. This is the best vampire story ever. *thinks* Well, I do adore the DwtD vamps, but this trumps for sheer cleverness. ^__________________________^
Also, *pets* Good luck with work this week. I hope your boss is back right on time. And well rested and up to the task.
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Date: 2008-07-01 01:03 am (UTC)I don't even know where to start...*ish thinking of all 12 chapters cause she read them all tonight*
Guille drives me insane with his silent-rough-treatment of Stregoni and snobbishness then angry-caring-ness.
I want Milla as my sister. The girl may be weak physically but she's tough like nothing else otherwise.
Aubrey is a Little bit...uhh...girly in habits. But its funny! ^_^ He can't figure out what, or how really to handle Ruthven and Ruthven is...well...yeah. Confusing but sexy-cool.
Write more? And I soo know the lunch break writers thing. When I did fanfics and would run up to the library at lunch just to type. Wish I had the zeal I had then for stories now. *kicks novel*
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Date: 2008-07-01 01:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-01 01:46 am (UTC)Sangre now rocks. Gille rocks more.
I shall give you a high five!
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Date: 2008-07-01 01:48 am (UTC)And I feel like an addict. Great.
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Date: 2008-07-01 02:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-01 02:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-01 04:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-01 05:43 am (UTC)All the players got face time, providing they're awake and not sleeping or sick or locked up in their room or on the lam. But those still got an honorable mention. I liked knowing where all the game pieces were.
Why would Gille be in danger from his own father?
Loved that Sangre and Aubrey are getting along so well here. Sangre was such an ass before.
You did eat food for lunch as well as pencil erasers ?
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Date: 2008-07-01 07:50 am (UTC)Good job XD
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Date: 2008-07-01 08:55 am (UTC)The doctor is love. That is all.
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Date: 2008-07-01 09:44 am (UTC)Can't wait until Ruthven and Gille wakes up!
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Date: 2008-07-01 10:57 am (UTC)MENDED FAMILIAL RELATIONSHIPS MAKE ME SO HAPPY. AND I CANNOT WAIT TILL GILLE WAKES UP NEXT TO STREGONI. AHAHAHAHAHAHHA. WILL HE EXPLODE OR WILL HE touch his hair gently, then make sweet, sweet love to him?
WHO IS TO SAY?
D: Poor Francois. I firmly believe that he could have realised his error in judgment, and eventually find out why Streg is Hot To Trot.
Also, I belive that Carmilla may be the daughter of Mina, and possibly the next leader of the vampires. Or Ruthven may be the leader of the Vampires. And that William is but an unwitting pawn.
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Date: 2008-07-01 12:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-01 07:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-01 09:19 pm (UTC)lasjflsjf! I am on tender hooks for the next chapter!
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Date: 2008-07-02 12:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-02 12:33 am (UTC)Aaaaaaaaaaargh!
Date: 2008-07-02 03:47 am (UTC)A) Um, Squee!. I'm loving this.
B) Aaaaargh! Damn! You're killing me here! More, more, more!
*contemplates grey winter skies and temps hovering just above freezing*
Hmmm. Maybe I'll just go back to bed.
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Date: 2008-07-04 04:44 am (UTC)i was wicked happy when i finally got my computer and found 6 new chapters from when i'd last read. love, love, love this story still. and i'm starting to like gille more and more, though i figured he probably wasn't the complete bastard he appeared to be. but i love all the little revealing scenes when we see through the facade. :)
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Date: 2008-07-04 02:54 pm (UTC)You are so cool. <3333
I love that Brey and his father are starting to try to mend bridges and I love that Sangre has less of an idea as to what Ruthven is than Brey does. It's nice to know Brey's not the only one in the dark where that's concerned. XD I also like the divulging of some of the family secrets and some of the relationships. I like how both father and son have realized with this incident that Stregoni and Gille have a bit of a murky relationship going.
And I hope Carmilla gets to feeling better. ;_; I hope she wasn't affected by the garlic flower...
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Date: 2008-07-05 08:19 pm (UTC)