It felt good to be home. The trip had been a good one and he had found, what he hoped would be, the perfect servant. Clarence had the best qualifications he had seen in a long time and his breeding was impeccable. When they pulled up in front of the house, however, he knew something was off. He knew Gabriel had killed while he was away but he also knew the young vampire hadn't eaten since then. It had only been a matter of two days, which was nothing to Donovan. For a fledgling, however, that was an entirely different matter.
The energy inside the house was nervous. Ruben had hardly given Clarence a judgmental glance at all when he answered the door, instead choosing to focus on Donovan.
“Master, I am afraid Gabriel has refused to leave his room for the past couple of evenings. He has left the bottles in the hall untouched, despite my best efforts. I did not know what to do.”
Donovan couldn't help but sigh, “Ruben, show Clarence the house and go over the tasks you take care of on a daily basis. I will go take care of Gabriel.” He touched one of the lions on the head as he made his way upstairs to Gabriel’s room. Three bottles lay untouched by the door and it tempted Donovan not to knock at all but he had respect for his fledgling. He knocked firmly, “Gabriel, I'm home.”
There was momentary silence. An instant. A few seconds. Yet they might as well have been hours, as long as it seemed to take for the lock of the door to click before Gabriel swung it open. He did not look good.
“What took you so long?” Gabriel asked, looking down at the bottles on the ground and then forcing his eyes back up to meet Donovan’s. Too tired to be defiant.
“I returned as soon as I was able.” He bent down, picking up one of the bottles, “you need to drink. I know you haven't been eating properly.”
Gabriel looked as if he was going to close the door, which wouldn’t have ended well. “I don’t want to,” he replied sullenly, stepping aside to allow Donovan to enter his room. “It makes me feel weird. Every time I drink, I feel like someone else. Like I’m losing a bit of myself. I don’t like it.”
“You're not losing yourself, if you don't eat, however, you will. You will lose your mind to hunger, to the beast, become nothing more than a ravening monster. Consumed with nothing but the desire to eat.” He held out a bottle to him, “drink.”
Sullen, Gabriel took the bottle from him and glared down at it, “I feel like an addict.”
“When you were human, were you addicted to food? To taking in sustenance? This is the same, the only difference is that food comes in a different form.”
“You can’t have a conversation with a side of beef or a carrot,” Gabriel replied, uncorking the bottle, “it’s different.” He lifted it to his lips, inhaling the scent of heavily spiced wine and blood.
“You are at the top of the food chain now, Gabriel, you need to learn to accept that. The blood wine will only take the edge off, you will need to eat sooner rather than later.” He left off the fact that he would force the issue if he needed to. His patience was reaching its limits.
Gabriel was about a quarter of the way through the bottle before he lowered it to wipe at his mouth with the cuff of his sweater sleeve, fortunate that he’d worn black tonight. “So what does that mean?” He lowered the bottle a little, “I killed someone while you were gone. I can’t control myself. I don’t want to risk doing that again.” There wasn’t any defiance in his tone this time, just exhaustion. Exhaustion and disgust with himself.
“If you would eat normally then you wouldn't have the issues with control that you do now. In order to subsist on smaller quantities of blood you must eat regularly. There are donors that we can utilize but only after you gain more control.”
“Why is this so easy for you?” Gabriel asked, draining even more from the bottle. Faster than he would have just a few days ago. He was not improving.
“It wasn't always easy. I've been alive for thousands of years, in my human years I was a hunter, I had a family. Do you think it was easy for me to kill when I was first turned?” He shook his head, “my sire made sure I got what I needed and it did get easier over time. It will get easier for you as well.”
Gabriel only spoke again when the bottle was finally empty, and the wine dancing through his bloodstream. The effects weren’t like regular wine was to a living person. They were more subtle. A calmer temperament. Warm, but not quite flushed skin. Little things. “What was your family like?” He asked with genuine curiosity, handing Donovan the empty bottle.
“I was a hunter. We lived off the land, my father, brothers, and I would go on extended hunting trips to supply food for our tribe.” He took a seat on the edge of the bed, “we were normal by societal standards.”
Once Donovan had placed the empty bottle on Gabriel’s night stand, the younger vampire sat beside him, not close enough to touch, but at least enough to know that he wasn’t upset at Donovan. “How’d you end up as a bloo--vampire?”
“My sire, Ignatius, stalked me, to put it mildly. He saw me hunting and liked what he saw. He is a man of exacting tastes, I think you'll like him when you meet.”
Gabriel relaxed a little, “how old are you?”
“Exactly? I lost count but well over two thousand years. Ignatius and I were in Rome at the time of the crucifixion.”
Gabriel looked somewhat dubious, “you’re kidding. You can’t be that old. There’s no way anyone can live that long without having a slip-up somewhere along the line. Didn’t any hunters ever catch on and come after you? Angry mobs? Nuns with sharp sticks?”
“Yes, we faced our share of hunters and mobs. The French revolution was a difficult time. Ignatius is ancient, one of the first, he knows how to avoid most problems.” He paused for a moment, “I was not careful in my youth, however, my sister was far worse. She was reckless and was the cause of our issues during the revolution. Indiscriminate killing does not go over well with the populace.”
Gabriel’s interest was piqued, which served as a nice distraction from his dour mood, “so you’ve got a sister?” This was the first time since the night Gabriel had first confronted Donovan that they’d had a nice conversation.
“Yes, both biologically and in blood. She had been badly injured, was dying, and I begged Ignatius to save her. He did, but in the end I'm sure he regretted giving in to my request. She went feral, at the time we didn't have blood wine so we were unable to prolong the amount of time it took. You are headed in that direction. She made it through, not everyone does, but I don't want to see it happen to you.”
Gabriel clasped his hands loosely over his knees, finding a spot on the carpet at the foot of the bed that suddenly became absolutely fascinating, “is she dead?”
“No, she's alive. Honestly I was surprised she survived the French Revolution. I haven't seen her in many years. She wasn't removed from our line, our family, but she is estranged.”
“So—“ Gabriel looked up at him, “is that what we are? Family?” He didn’t seem upset at the idea, but very confused. “Should I call you dad from now on?”
“No, you shouldn’t call me dad. I am your sire but calling me Donovan is just fine. We are family and as such we do have a family name. Viatorem is our family name. A name grants certain privileges, and our name is well known.” He explained, “this affords us a certain status amongst vampires and even with other supernaturals.”
“That’s a lot to take in. Not too sure I really want more hunters finding out about--” Gabriel waved an arm in the air, “--all this. Doesn’t really make me look too good. I mean, yeah, I know I’m probably not going to run into them anytime soon, but it’s weird. It’s just weird.”
“It may be unavoidable, however unless someone goes around vocalizing the fact that you are a vampire, no one will know.”
“They probably all know now anyway,” Gabriel shrugged after he spoke, a little defeated, “I mean someone sent those assholes to kill me that night. I talked to Chuck this morning and they don’t have any leads. Don’t even know who those two guys we killed were.”
“If you would like we can find out. I still have contacts that I can utilize. If that’s something you desire. I have but one request, come eat, properly.”
“I think I’d like to know. The only way I can think they found out is that someone was spying on us.” Gabriel paused, “you’re not talking about just your blood, or something from a bottle, are you?”
“No, I’m not. I would like you to come hunting with me.”
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
An uneasy silence stretched between them. Their pleasant conversation had taken a turn towards the question that time and again Gabriel had refused to answer. Only he didn’t have the luxury now. It would be unfortunate if he forced Donovan’s hand on this.
“Alright,” Gabriel relented, tired and defeated. “I’ll go.” It had been far too long since Donovan had felt sympathy. He found it was becoming a habit with his youngest childe, inspiring that feeling in him. Not altogether unpleasant, but unfamiliar. If any of the other fledglings he’d sired had been so obstinate, they wouldn’t have lasted this long. But Gabriel had released Donovan from prison, albeit unwittingly, and for that alone he would be eternally grateful.
“Get changed, you're looking a little worse for wear, meet me downstairs when you're ready to go.” Donovan said, standing and leaving the room. He would give Gabriel a little time to prepare himself before they went hunting.
Downstairs, Ruben was ruthlessly lecturing Clarence in the rarely used dining room on the merit of dusting, and the dangers that accompanied it.
“I have an exhaustive ledger in the library on each and every single decoration and oddity in this house, including the highly sensitive ones. If you do not dust certain items in a counterclockwise motion, you will rue the day!” Ruben explained, receiving little reaction from Clarence but a nod. The young man had admirable composure.
Once Ruben reached the end of his life Donovan would be disposing of many of the artifacts he had acquired. He didn't like having such dangerous things in his home.
“Gentlemen, once Gabriel comes down we will be going out to hunt, take care of things while we’re away.” He said, leading them out of the dining room and grabbing his coat as he sent a look over at the lions. They could stay, after all, he had acquired them himself.
Clarence and Ruben bowed respectfully, the older man taking much more care not to hurt his back in the process. He had become so fragile recently, Donovan would have likely sought out another servant even without the suggestion.
“Will you desire anything to be prepared for you while you’re away?” Clarence inquired, keeping his head bowed.
“Some tea would be good and a fire, Gabriel will need to, unwind, after.”
It wasn’t long before Gabriel was descending the stairs, wearing jeans and a t-shirt with a light denim jacket. Fortunately they wouldn’t be attending any formal events tonight. His mood did not seem to have improved any, as he merely acknowledged Clarence with a curt nod before directing his attention to Donovan.
“How long do you think this is going to take?” He asked, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets.
“An hour maybe two, it depends on how quickly we find an appropriate meal.”
Gabriel nodded, resigned, “alright. I guess that makes sense.” He’d be in a much better mood after he ate. Now that he wasn’t alone, it would be easier to keep him distracted from the guilt he forced upon himself. It was something they would have to deal with soon.
“So my car or--” Gabriel paused, “--one of yours?”
“Would you prefer yours? Whatever makes you more comfortable.” Getting him out to the bar would be the next challenge and if taking his car would make him more comfortable then they would take it.
“Yeah,” Gabriel said, following him to the front door, “it’s clean now, so I think it’ll be okay to drive." He fished his keys out of his jacket pocket, “I just want to be sure nobody I know sees us. Do you know where we’re going?”
“Yes, there is a small bar on the outskirts of town that will do nicely. I prefer hunting outside of where I live.”
Gabriel grabbed Donovan by the shoulder just as he was opening the door, “it’s not the one going south past the Drury exit, is it?” He sounded distressed. The thought of his recent kill was so strong and forceful, Donovan saw the dead girl in Gabriel’s mind, sprawled in the front seat of his car.
“No, it isn't. Gabriel, it will be alright, you're not alone.” He turned to face him as he spoke, resting his hands on his shoulders, “it will be alright.”
Then it was like the dream when they’d met, and he was looking at the same terrified little boy haunted by a lifetime of nightmares. Still, in some ways, very human.
“I don’t want to kill anyone who doesn’t deserve it, but how the hell can I just stand there as everyone’s judge and jury?” Gabriel asked, meeting his eyes.
He wanted to tell him it would pass, because it would, his connection to humanity would fade, but that would make him hold on harder. A soft sigh escaped his lips, “Gabriel, trust me when I say, everything will turn out the way it needs to.”
“Feels like I’m in a soap opera right now, but I hate how easy it is to trust you. I don’t know if it’s the blood thing or not, but it really freaks me out.”
“It partially is the blood, the rest is because I have done nothing to show I cannot be trusted.” He looked toward the car, “come, we can talk more on the way.”
----------------------------------------
“So, how did you find out about us?” Lee inquired, adjusting his glasses. They were going through the first interview with a potential client. Out of the blue he’d called them last night about a large commission. The biggest hit they’d ever had, to be honest. Without Gabe around to help their numbers, and since shark week had pretty much cut their jobs in half for the next year, they needed every job they could get. Misgivings or not.
“Sir?” Lee repeated, “I’m sorry, I need to know how you found out about us. For our records.”
The man wasn’t the most eccentric person Lee had ever had to deal with in his line of work, but he was certainly a contender. His lips and the edges of his eyelids were stained black as if he’d just finished up a theatrical production and didn’t have the time to completely remove all of his make-up. The trenchcoat and fedora were clearly some attempt to lend an air of mystery to himself, but they only confirmed Lee’s suspicions that he might be dealing with a severely disturbed parody of a human being. As if the calling card he’d given each of them with just a phone number in red ink wasn’t enough of a clue.
“One of your previous clients gave me your name.” He stumbled over his words a little, as though he was used to speaking with a different cadence. Affecting a midwest accent for no apparent reason Lee could discern.
“So you need us to hunt down a monster in the city,” Lee pressed on, speaking slowly. He did not get a good feeling about this man at all.
“Yes, yes, a dangerous one. Very dangerous.”
“What has led you to believe there is a monster, and how does it relate to your personal safety?” Lee was the only member of their group tactful enough with his phrasing to go through this process, and sometimes the professional wording was a challenge.
“It's a vampire, I saw him, umm, eat, someone.”
“Really?” Lee asked, a little surprised, “in the city?” The shark week had been so thorough, and Gabe’s promises that Donovan didn’t kill in their territory were enough to make him want to take this possible lead with a grain, or perhaps a tablespoon of salt.
“Yes, yes, so will you take the job?”
“This is just the initial consultation,” Lee stressed, lowering his pen, “once I’ve gotten a basic idea of what and where the activity you’ve seen has been taking place, I’ll call the rest of my associates into the room, and we can discuss a basic rate.” The additional note that he’d probably ‘lose the man’s phone number’ if they didn’t go through with the job went unspoken.
The man fidgeted under his gaze, “is this not dire enough?”
Lee resisted the urge to release a sigh at the question, which seemed to be asked by every single client, even the regulars, far more than any other, “if it was to the point that this couldn’t wait, then police officers would be involved in the matter, sir. We would have known about it by now. Monsters aren’t as common as you might believe, and we need to confirm for ourselves the validity of any and all claims. Think of it like insurance. We are putting our credibility at risk if we don’t investigate first before accepting an offer.” He paused, “unless you have physical evidence with you right now?”
The man scowled, “you need to do this, it is imperative, I fear for my life.”
“Sir, I’m sorry, but the best I can offer is some surveillance by one of my colleagues while we investigate. We don’t charge for that.”
He shook his head, his scowl deepening, “that just won't do, won't do at all.”
“Would you like another reference? There might be other hunters in the area willing to help,” Lee went on, re-adjusting his glasses. The guy’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out. Those thin penciled eyebrows were almost touching, as intense as his scowl had become. That bug stare was getting creepier by the second. Lee might have to call Chuck just to escort this man from the building.
“You're the best hunters in the area, having the best is important when one’s life is on the line.”
Lee attempted to smile, but couldn’t quite manage one, “we do try our best. Do you have any questions for my coll--I’m sorry, are you okay? I haven’t seen you blink in the last minute or so, and I’m a little concerned.”
It was providence, pure and simple, when Louise barged in through the front door, waving her phone in the air, and proclaiming like a madwoman, “Danny got his first lead! Some old lady at the grocery store was floating in the air and screaming latin verses at him. Remember that Satanic cult we’ve been trying to track--oh, sorry.” She noticed the odd man sitting across from Lee, “I didn’t realize you were interviewing.” Louise immediately took on a more professional air, straightening up and smoothing a stray lock of hair away from her face.
Her mere presence was enough to help Lee release all the tension he’d been holding in just by talking to this guy. She always seemed to have that effect on him. If Louise’s calming presence could be bottled and sold, Lee was sure he’d make a killing. “Louise, this is--” Lee looked back at him, “well, his name is Braedon. Braedon, this is one of my associates, Louise. We all sort of have the same jobs here, but she’s great when it comes to tracking. If anyone can help us find your potential vampire, she can.”
He nodded, visibly deflating, “what do you need from me?”
“Location, description, and your relation to the victim should help,” Lee explained, tapping on his paper as Louise rounded the table to stand beside him. She somehow got the hint and looked down at his paper where he’d scrawled the quick note: nutcase.
Braedon squared his shoulders, looking at Louise, but speaking to Lee. The intense look was back. “At the edge of Gruene Bow park, three miles down from the cul-de-sac, there is a mansion. Inside dwells a monster the likes of which you have never seen. He must be killed. I met him at the opera. His name is Donovan. He is--tall and--” Braedon seemed to be getting more worked up by the second, “and--and--hideous to behold. Absolutely no sense of fashion or etiquette. He’s got reddish hair and bad manners. You can’t miss him. He’ll be the one you feel compelled to throttle the second you lay your eyes on him!” He was standing now, hands pressed into the table, nails scratching the surface hard enough to leave marks.
Lee scowled, Donovan was responsible? He doubted that, “we’ll look into it,” no, they wouldn't be killing Donovan, at least not without proof. He glared at Braedon’s nails, “if you would kindly take your nails out of my desk, we’ll be in contact with you.”