Sal had told Cassio that his bride-to-be was beautiful, and he hadn’t been lying. Elysa was indeed beautiful with her dark eyes, thick hair, and sensual mouth. Her skin was clear and clean of blemishes and the beauty spot was alluring.

But it was her father who demanded Cassio’s attention.

There was something off about Pietro. Something he couldn’t quite place. The feeling a hunter got out in the woods when he became uncertain if he was hunting the bear or the bear was hunting him.

In an unearned act of familiarity Pietro put a hand on Cassio’s shoulder and smiled at him. The hand felt like a large spider on his shoulder.

“Viscount, would it be possible for us to discuss business before the party? There are a few things I would like to clear up.” Pietro said.

Cassio glanced at Elysa who was chewing at her lip and staring at her feet. Her brother didn’t look any more comfortable, and his eyes glazed right past him. This felt like a trap. But he had never been one to walk away from a challenge. Besides, Pietro was half a head shorter than him. Nothing he couldn’t break over his knee if it came down to it.

“As you wish.” Cassio said.

After ordering the servants to look after the Capello siblings, Cassio led their father to his private study. The walls were decorated with the heads of animals he had killed and different kinds of weapons he had collected over the years. Guns, swords, knives, and spears. All of them meant for decoration and killing. His desk was made from Wyrding wood, and a telephone line ran into the room and onto his desk. The center piece of the room was the banner of his House. A golden lion on a field of red with a rose in its mouth.

Pietro stopped to admire the largest of his kills. A monster from The Wyrding that looked like an unusually massive boar.

“I see its true that you’re a hunter.” Pietro said approvingly: “I’ve been known to hunt my own food as well.”

The long fingers caressed the dead monster’s tusks where you could still see dried blood.

“What is this thing?” Pietro asked.

“Something that would sneak into my family’s lands and kill the livestock. I tracked it for three days in The Wyrding before I ran it down.” Cassio said.

“You hunt in The Wyrding? I am impressed.” Pietro said while looking at the telephone on Cassio’s desk, the greatest display of wealth in his study.

“And I’m impressed too that you could convince my aunt and uncle of this marriage.” Cassio said.

“I have a way with people.”

“Charming.” Cassio said and glanced at the bar cabinet: “Care for a drink?”

Pietro licked his lips. There was something obscene about it that made Cassio’s skin crawl. Even after marrying Elysa, he would make sure not to spend much time with Pietro. The man was a creep.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

Cassio walked to the bar cabinet and tried opening it before stopping. In a moment of clarity everything made sense. He could see his reflection in the glass door. He could see the reflection of his study and the reflection of enemies who now stared back at him with unseeing eyes.

But he did not see Pietro’s reflection.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

What happened next, happened in a flash.

Cassio lunged at a saber hanging from the wall while Pietro attacked. Cassio was fast but not fast enough and two powerful arms wrapped around him. It felt like he was trapped under a fallen tree. He could not move or even breathe. There was no calling for help or fighting back. Pietro’s embrace was unnaturally cold like a corpse left in the snow and his breath was sweet as flowers on a grave.

“No need to get violent, viscount. I am not here to hurt you.” Pietro whispered in his ear: “I am here to make you a king.”

There was a moment of pain when Pietro’s fangs found his throat and then pierced the skin. Blood flowed and the more Pietro drank from him, the warmer his cold body became. A cold numbness spread all over Cassio like he had fallen through ice but even then, he tried struggling back to the surface. But it was no use, and the current took him. Despite all his strength, he might as well have tried wrestling with a mountain.

Then pleasure drove away the pain.

A light-headedness came over him like he had drank bottle after bottle of expensive wine over dinner without realizing how drunk he was before he tried to stand. His knees buckled and then gave out under him. He fell onto Pietro and despite weighing almost fourteen stones, Pietro held him like he was no heavier than a child. He picked him up and laid Cassio gently down on the couch. He tried one more time to grab Pietro by the neck, but all muscles had been boiled out of him.

“Still struggling, viscount? You have a strong will.”

The glamour that Pietro had used to hide what he was, had slipped away and Cassio could see him clearly. The bone white skin and the black veins running through it like cracks on marble. Eyes that were solid red and a smile like an open wound. Pietro licked the spilled blood off his lips and them wiped his mouth with a handkerchief.

“Don’t worry. Like I said, I am not here to hurt you. I am just here to talk business.”

“… kill… you…” Cassio growled like a wounded animal.

“You won’t after you hear what I have to offer.”

“… don’t want… anything from… you.”

Where was Sal?! Where were his guards?! They should know their lord was in danger! He needed to buy time for help to come! There was nothing he couldn’t overcome with a superior force of will! Nothing!

“Don’t be so quick to say no.” Pietro said and held up his head: “Look into my eyes.”

Cassio tried to look away, but Pietro forced his eyelids open and almost put out one of his eyes with his talons. Those eyes… they were pools of gore you could drown into. The floor fell out from under him and then he was plummeting into Pietro’s eyes. He fell into the vampire’s mind and… and…

… and…

.

.

.

The child fell against a cold floor in a darkened mansion. It was so… cold and when he looked at his hands… he could have sworn they were smaller than he remembered. That he’d had the hands of a man grown. Not these tiny soft hands of a boy.

“… Cassio…”

The child looked up from his hands and hugged himself for comfort in the cold house. The windows were broken, and dead leaves were blown through the dim hallway by a chilly wind.

“… mom?”

There was light at the end of the hallway. A cold flicker coming from under a closed door. The child started walking towards it while shivering.

“… mom… I dreamt that I was an adult. I dreamt that… you were dead.”

When he pushed the door open, he found his parents in a desolate dining hall. The food had rotten long ago and was appetizing only to flies. A fading flame burned in the fireplace while his parents sat in silence.

The previous viscount Rossi was a tall and lean figure with well-combed golden-red hair. The viscountess sitting across him was pale and beautiful. Neither turned to look at him when he entered.

“… mom? … dad?”

A scream erupted from his mouth when his parents turned to look at him with their empty, dead eyes. Red gashes ran across their throats but there was no blood left to flow. He tried to run but the door he had come through was gone and there was nowhere left to flee. He banged helplessly at the solid wall when the ghosts approached him.

“How could you, Cassio? How could you let us die?” Mother asked and her voice came out as a wheeze as air escaped her ruined throat: “Did you really hate us so much?”

Worse than the ruined voice was the hurt and disappointment in it. Bad enough to cut out his heart.

“… I… I… I was a… child… how could I…?”

The assassin… slipping inside at the dead of the night… let in by treacherous servants… the knife in the darkness… slitting his parents throats before coming for him.

Father sent his chair flying with the terrible strength of the undead.

“Anything! You could have done anything! But you hid under the bed like a coward!”

When mother grabbed his shoulders, her touch was so cold it burned.

“I don’t want to be dead, Cassio! It is so cold!” Mother wept.

The child broke free from the cold embrace and crawled into a corner. The furthest he could get from his accusers.

“… I… I wanted to help but…”

“But you didn’t.” Father said.

“And now you have even invited a gypsy into our home.” Mother said like he was raising rats.

“… he… he saved my life… Sal is my friend…” The child said before flinching.

Friend? Sal? A friend named Sal? It felt like he was forgetting something important. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. He could feel talons on his mind.

“That changes now. If you want to make up for letting us die, you better make us proud.” Father said.

“Make us proud, Cassio.” Mother said.

“… anything.” The child whimpered.

Father smiled… and for a moment he could see someone else’s face drawn over his father’s but only for a moment.

“We have picked you a girl to marry. One who will give us a legacy.” Father said.

“A legacy that doesn’t need a gypsy marring our reputation. I think it’s time to send away that friend of yours.” Mother said.

There was a telephone on the dining table the child had not noticed before. He’d had the same kind in his… study? No. He was a child. What did a child need a study for? Or a phone? Father picked up the phone and rotated a number he seemed to know by heart. There were only a few rings before the caller on the other end picked up.

“Hello, old friend. I need a favor that you’re going to love. I need a certain person gone. Salvatore Torrini.” Father said.

Salvatore… Torrini… he knew that name… he was sure of it but… from where? He… if he could only concentrate…

“It’s not as dangerous as you think. He no longer has Cassio’s protection. Isn’t that right, Cassio?” Father said and handed the child the phone.

His movements were stiff like his fingers were carved from wood and it took an eternity to get the phone to his ear.

“… do it… send him away…” The child whispered into the phone.