Friday September 26th 2014

He left class with his sweaty shirt sticking to his skin, blood dribbling from the split lip Tamlin had given him. A love tap to remember where he was and not to waste his teacher's time. Taking the stairs quickly, Cesare made it to the school doors ahead of most of the students. He had the feeling it'd go down here. Bullies liked to make a point, and this was a good place to do it.

He wasn’t the only one expecting a fight. Leaning against walls, talking in cliches, the vultures shared greedy smiles waiting for the kill. Excitement slithered through their eyes, the need for blood, the desire for humiliation. A hunger for beauty to be broken, to see glory brought down into the shit they wallowed in.

The students went silent in a wave of expectation. The Thagirion came down the stairs in diamond formation, each step taken with precision sharpened by supernatural grace. Abraxas Blackscale dominated the diamonds point, coat billowing out behind him. His black school uniform was a statement. In a school of blue he was the only black allowed, a measure of his power, a testament to his excellence. Pantagruel towered above the others, arms larger than Cesare’s waist, legs more tree trunk than flesh, his steps made loud base thumps as they hit the stairs. Blaez stalked on the dragon's other side, an attack dog straining at the leash, a node of feral instinct. Anastasia was on the edge next to Blaez, her eyes swept the crowd, resting on Cesare for a second before continuing.

Alexandra walked out of the hall as the Thagirion ghosted past Cesare, blocking the door to the campus. The girls behind her traded gossip about boys and school, but Alexandra felt the change in the air. The reapers scent on the wind, a razors touch along the inner thigh, she knew a fight was coming. Each step was braced for either attack or defense, her hands curled into casual claws capable of rending steel.

Alexandra’s body tensed on sighting the Thagirion, eyes taking in the crowd of watching students. Her friends weren’t far behind in noticing the audience or the waiting gods of the school. Cesare watched the fracture lines widen in Alexandra’s parasites. She was everything they wanted to be: beautiful, powerful, rich, and wicked. Their worship was a voracious hunger, scourging them to steal her essence for their own.

Alexandra’s Christianity would break them. Their idol of flesh could only rot in face of her reality, its maggot ridden flesh falling away from the diseased bones of envy. Hate flowed from worship, as their lie died under the vampires savage truth, they'd hunger for her pain.

Students melted out of her way, she owned the floor with an arrogance born from a throne of murder. They wanted to eat from the scraps left over, not get caught in the fangs of their betters.

“Alexandra Dracul.” Abraxas’s words stopped the vampire before she’d closed half the distance. Abraxas may be a good fighter, but he wasn’t a soldier who specialized in killing like Alexandra. He wanted to know before she got close whether this would come to blood.

“Abraxas Blackscale.” There was a formal flavor to her words, a sense of a line being crossed.

“I know of the incident with the banner.” He gestured at the Thagirion arrayed around him. “I want to offer our apologies. We don’t condone that behavior at this school. I’m ashamed that it happened under my charge.”

A collective sigh escaped from the students, disappointment thick in the air. This wasn’t what they’d come for.

Alexandra nodded, not an inch of her relaxing. “Yet, you've done nothing. The group that dishonored Christ with their profane banner walk free without a word of discipline. Instead, you block my path.” A savage smile played across her lips, she knew this was only the opening gambit.

Abraxas‘s gave a tight smile. “Talks were had out of sight of the student body. We dealt with the perpetrators appropriately.” Anastasia stepped to the side, opening up an angle for the Ebon Flame. Alexandra’s eyes flickered to the other girl, noting the movement. “You have every right to practice your religion. All I can ask is that you tone down your observances out of respect for the other students. And that you not proselytize while you're here. I doubt you’d get any converts, but that's beside the point. You could cause irreparable harm to the student body by starting a war we can ill afford.” The scary part was that it was reasonable. You wouldn’t even know you were falling into a trap until after the hook ripped your soul from flesh.

A Christian must proselytize. It's a mandate from Christ. You can't separate it from the religion. Change or adapt it to your life and surroundings, yes. But stop doing it? No, not without betraying Christ.

If Alexandra agreed to keep her words to herself, then she’d betray her faith … betray the thing she’d die for. She might not see it today, but eventually she’d see the trap and realize she’d broken faith with her god. It didn’t matter if they tricked her into it, she’d never forgive herself.

“Clever.” Cesare’s work stopped Alexandra’s answer. “The way to corrupt a saint is by inches. Get him to turn only an inch today, an inch in a week, slowly shift his sight until God is behind him and lost, his soul carved for meat by logic. Are you going to ask her to hide her cross next? What would it hurt if she just kept it inside her shirt?” Cesare's mild words whispered into the deathly silence.

Alexandra snapped her mouth shut, mortified at what she’d been about to promise. Abraxas turned slowly, eyes boring into Cesare. The silence gathered depth, coldly alien the dragon's power unfurled, a pressure felt along the edge of instinct. “I’d recommend you see your way out of my affairs, Cesare.” The use of his name was even more frightening than an insult. This wasn’t a man who threatened. He was a man who destroyed.

Standing, Cesare reminded himself he could only die once. It didn’t matter if it was at the hands of a dragon or falling down the steps, dead was dead. The dragon's eyes were black as old sin, its matte black skin a blot in the light around him. Thin, the boy was cutting angles and whipcord power, a blade of flesh at just under six feet. Abraxas wasn’t large, but he was ruthless will wedded to unstoppable power. A snakes morality given free rein in a monster that existed in a world of insects.

“If it has to do with Alexandra, it's my business.” No one was more surprised at the steadiness of his words than Cesare.

“I see. Then you stand with her … and against me.” The flat declaration possessed the finality of a headsman’s ax. Alexandra's friends wouldn’t fight for her. They'd shrunk back into the crowd, seeking the security of the herd. Blaez stood off to the side with his pack, weight centered on his leading foot. Straining at the leash as his eyes bled gold around the edges, an eager, wanton smile curling his lips. Pantagruel looked bored standing behind Abraxas, ready to fight but just as willing to take a nap.

Anastasia watched Cesare, her dark eyes pleading with him not to war with the Thagirion. Alexandra was a lightning rod for trouble. She couldn’t turn from proselytization and stay true to her faith. Her path could only lead to the killing field. The Thagirion were trying to stop the war before it started, to keep as many kids alive as possible.

Still, he wouldn’t—couldn’t—back down. Alexandra had no one. He didn't agree with her faith, but this wasn’t about that. He didn't care about freedom or fair play; those were words for people who'd never felt hunger gut them hollow. What mattered was Alexandra needed him. Causes were for good men, flesh was for those just trying to get by in a hateful world.

“Looks that way,” Cesare said.

Abraxas nodded, hand gesturing slightly. Blaez exploded across the ground, his foot hit the top of a chair, sending him air born, teeth bared in savage joy. His pack was right behind him, breaking apart to come at Cesare from the sides and back. Blood soaked howls rent the air as they converged on him.

Alexandra appeared as if conjured, snatching Blaez by the throat in midair. Twirling with practiced grace, she drove the wolf face first through the chair Cesare had been using. Wood shattered, splintering in a hail across the room. A baby seal caught in the jaws of a killer whale, Blaez was dead before he’d started. Alexandra planted the werewolf's face on the ground, foot on his neck, arm twisted up and back.

The world stopped at her sudden attack. Anastasia's hands flickered with Ebon Flame, stygian threads of hate twisting around pale fingers. Pantagruel moved slowly, putting room between him and the others in case he needed to grow. The only one who hadn’t moved was Abraxas. The pack stalked restlessly, weaving into a mass of frustrated rage, exchanging uneasy looks at the ungodly power Alexandra had unsheathed.

“Hurt him, and we'll take you apart,” Abraxas said calmly.

Cesare laughed quietly as he stepped forward, the room locking onto the movement. “You think? I'll tell you how this goes down. Alexandra rips the dog fucker’s head off. Anastasia doesn't have enough control to fire into a melee safely. That leaves Alexandra time to close with Pantagruel, who'll be fucked because he can't grow big enough to match her in here. Give it fifteen seconds before Alexandra rips his cock off and leaves him to bleed out. Then it’s just you and her, pretty boy.” Cesare stepped to Alexandra’s side. “You’re good in hand to hand, maybe even great, but I think Alexandra will mop the floor with you. You can't let loose that dragon flame unless you want the castle to go up while she can use her full strength. You want to play those odds?” Abraxas took one step forward, heat waves savaging the air around him.

“I was told you were weaker than this,” Abraxas said, focusing on Alexandra.

Cesare cut in smoothly before Alexandra could comment. “You know what they say about assumptions. They make an ass out of you.” Alexandra pressed down, on the wolf's arm. A low, creaking sound came from Blaez as his bones strained. A line of blood slipped from the boy’s mouth as he bit his tongue instead of screaming.

Nodding with a cutting gesture at the Thagirion, Abraxas words were final. “You win this round, Ms. Dracul.”

She kicked the wolf in the side; the boy tumbled through the air, hammering into the wall with bone breaking force. “Take your dog and go, snake. We'll settle up later.”

Sweat trickled down Cesare's back from the heat waves ravaging the air. “Pantagruel, pick up Blaez.” Abraxas ordered, eyes locked on Cesare.

As soon as the Thagirion passed the threshold of the door, the rest of the students streamed out in panicked flight. Scavengers, they’d use this bit of gossip to gilt their plastic souls.

Alexandra's admirers surrounded her, words tripping over each other. “That was amazing! You tossed him around like a rag doll!”

“I can't believe you did that! No one tells Abraxas, no.”

“How did you move so fast? It was like, bam!”

“Fuck me! You just beat the shit out of him like he was a fucking child!”

“I bet they'll ask you to be one of the Thagirion. Isn't it like a rule that if you beat one of them they have to offer you a spot?”

“She should've been one from the beginning.”

“How did you know?” Alexandra's words cut off her sycophants. He’d made enemies today, monstrous gods of vengeful power. Any chance of getting through school was gone. If he burned his dreams and ran, he might live to see the end of the year.

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“Your eyes. A person either looks at who they’re going to attack or avoids looking at them. You were skipping between them all,” Cesare explained as he picked up his bag.

“What are you talking about?” One of Alexandra’s girls asked.

Alexandra stayed focused on Cesare. “I knew I had to stop the wolf because he was attacking Cesare but after that, I was lost. Cesare took control, guiding me to victory without shaming me in front of them.”

“So what? You had that wolf by the throat,” she said, gripping the air. “You had it won. All shit bag did was steal your glory.”

Alexandra shook her head. “You don't understand.”

“You would have won anyway … right?” The girl pleaded, desperately wanting to hold on to her dream. In her world, a super vampire didn’t need the help of a homeless boy who pissed himself.

“Yes.” Alexandra replied. “But the collateral damage would’ve been extreme with the rest of you dying in the clash. Abraxas would have filled the room with flame. It would only slow me, but it would kill the rest of you. Same goes for Anastasia. A wide enough attack and she could have hit me, but it would have killed the students close to me. And there is no measuring the death our strength would have birthed.” Alexandra looked away from Cesare. “I knew I could win. The price in flesh and lives is nothing to me. But Cesare stepped in with his plan, I knew I could win and protect.”

“He did it to save himself,” one of the bobble heads said.

“Of course, but that doesn't matter. The fact is that he stood with me,” Alexandra said.

“But you saved him.”

Alexandra shrugged. “I saved his life. What does that matter? He saved me from betraying my faith, and House Dracul pays its debts. I won’t forget this.”

Cesare slid his bag across his shoulder with a nod goodbye. “Friends don't owe friends, otherwise they’re not really friends.”

Cesare knew he was in trouble as soon as he caught sight of Anastasia. She was waiting on the campus path, hands clenching and releasing as if strangling someone. The harem stayed clear, lightning would strike, and no one wanted to be the tallest tree. Students took one look at her and resolutely turned around, deciding that what they had to do could wait.

Whirling, she locked onto him. “You couldn't let it go, could you?” The scathing tone raised an eyebrow, but other than that, Cesare kept his mouth shut. “Would it kill you not to step in every steaming pile of shit you find? She's a vampire! A fucking member of the Order of the Dragon. She’s not a damsel in distress needing saving! She's more than capable of fighting her own battles. You didn't need to step in and push your macho bullshit. What were you thinking? That you could stop Blaez or, for fucks sake, Abraxas! They'll run over you and scrape you off their feet after, if they even notice you at all.” The harem smirked at the tirade. Students watched from the sidelines while Anastasia ripped him up one side and down the other. “Why can't you keep your cursed mouth shut. Blaez is blood crazed. When he goes for someone like that he means to kill! Did you even think of that? What the hell were you thinking, facing off against a dragon. For Darkness sake, you practically spit in his face! Alexandra fucking DRACUL does NOT need your help!” Anastasia breathed in deeply, either to get the air to continue her rant or to calm her temper.

“It's funny, Miss Raven said the same about you,” Anastasia’s mouth snapped shut.

“Okay, maybe I should have been a little calmer …” she began.

Cesare’s voice was steel frozen into a razor of ice. “No, please continue on how your boyfriend is going to kill me and then wipe me off his shoes like a piece of shit. Tell me about how useless I am. It’s not like you’re the first this week or even today who’s said it.” Heavy silence fell between them.

“I'm sorry, I was out the line.” Anastasia watched him with every expectation of being forgiven. Rich, beautiful, and charming … who would hold a grudge?

“Why do you ignore me in school?”

Anastasia looked around, unwilling to meet his eyes. “It's not because I'm ashamed of spending time with you. I know it looks that way, but that's not it. If they knew you were helping me, and that the bruises and split lips were caused by training, they’d give your corrective action to someone else.”

Some of the anger left him. That made sense in an insane kind of way. He’d be cutlets if Blaez came for him with the Thagirion’s sanction. But it was only part of the truth. Anastasia was a master of telling you the truth—but only the parts she wanted you to know.

He shook his head, letting the argument fall away. Not forgiven or forgotten … he wasn’t that person. She was used to being surrounded by slaves that bowed to her whims and catered to her needs. People weren’t real to her, they were assets to use until they’d broken, pets to play with until something prettier came along. A man doesn’t apologize to a dog or a hammer.

“I don’t give a fuck what you think of my life. I don’t need the approval of a girl who would have watched while her fuck buddy ripped my head off. Do you think anything you say means a fucking thing when you wouldn’t piss on me if I was on fire? You would've watched the sadistic fucks kill me! That’s the fucking fact, and we both know it. Now, do you want to train, or do you want to fuck off?” The harem tensed at the raw anger of his words.

Uneasy and off balance, she measured the rage radiating from him. He was supposed to forgive her and then apologize for helping Alexandra, not tell her to get her shit together or get lost. “You’re right, you don’t have to explain yourself. We’re not friends and that's my fault, I get that. I’m just worried about you. Before you were only a small fish to Abraxas, now you’re a target. He won't let that go. You don't understand how much the Umbrae Lunae hate Christianity or what they'll do when they're pushed. She's lighting the house on fire with us inside. The other students won't sit back and take it. They'll come for her, and she'll end up killing them.”

“That sounds like your problem. You’re supposed to be protecting students like her, not helping cut them for fun. If you can't see that, then you need to think about why you want to have any power at all. Doesn't she have the right to believe what she wants?”

“It's not that simple,” Anastasia said, lips thinning with anger.

“Yes, it is. You either stand on the side of what you believe in, or you don't. It's your job to make sure she has that freedom. If that takes cracking heads or making people bleed, then do it. You’re supposed to help people, not be another bully they have to fear. What do you want to be Anastasia, a person who stands for what they believe or a person who does what they’re told?”

That was unfair, but only children complained about life being fair. It wasn't fair and never would be. The sooner you realized that, the sooner you could start fighting for what you want. Children expect fairness. If Bobby gets a cookie, then Sarah gets one too. An adult knows you have to bleed for what you want. If you want that cookie, you do what you have to do to get it. Cheat, lie, steal, fight—however far you’re willing to go to get what you want. You don't get what you deserve in life … you get what you’re willing to suffer for.

The Thagirion wanted the easy, suppress Alexandra and the problems solved. It was peace at the cost of one person's freedom, or war for the ideal of freedom. It was easy for Cesare because he only cared about one thing. It was Alexandra they were trying to fuck over, and even if it cost the students lives, he was on her side. Did that make him a bad guy? Yeah, it kind of did, but that didn’t change a thing.

Anastasia's eyes shined with understanding. “Bullshit.” Her hand came up, stopping his counter. “Don't give me that shit about doing the right thing. You don't give a damn about what's good. It was you who told me to burn my opponent down to the ground and make an example of him.”

How much to tell? Just enough to get her on his side, or maybe more? In the end, it didn't matter because he wasn’t willing to manipulate her.

“You want the truth? Fine. You’re right. I don't give a fuck about the school or the students. I don't matter to them so they can fuck off. But I care about Alexandra, you, and Elizabeth.” He paused to gather his words. “I don't care about rules. They only work for those in power. And I don't care what Abraxas is trying to do, but I can appreciate the tactics. He sees a problem, and it's his job to fix problems. The easiest way to fix this, is to break Alexandra. He can't control the entire school, but he can control her. And if it was someone else, I might agree. But it's not. It's Alexandra and I'm her friend, even if she isn't mine.” Cesare’s voice became quieter, but no less hard. “The same way I'll support you to win these games. I'll make you a winner and I’ll make sure you survive, no matter the cost.”

Her eyes darkened with barbed truths, unwanted things of cruelty and need. “You scare me, you’re a fanatic without a cause, a killer without a leash. I see why you want to help her, but what if you were me? I don't feel that way about her … or anyone. I don't have your … insane … loyalty.” She sat down, sounding lost. Sitting beside her, Cesare tentatively put his hand on her shoulder. With a sigh, she snuggled into his side. Her own arm wrapped around his waist while his settled across her shoulders, tucking her close.

Warm and yielding, the feel of her sent fingers of arousal surging through him. Gazing down at her head resting on his shoulder, it was impossible to miss the view down the front of her sports bra. Creamy white cleavage extended as far as the eye could see. Blaez was one lucky son of a bitch to have a woman like Anastasia.

Cesare wrenched his mind and eyes off the tempting sight. “I know you want to be your mother’s heir, but what does that mean?” As she opened her mouth, Cesare cut her off. “No, don't tell me what you think I want to hear. Tell me what you want. I don't care if you want to kill children or take over the world. Look at me.” He turned her face up, meeting her dark, searching eyes. “I don't care. I won't judge you. I won't turn my back on you. I’ll still be here. I’ll still support you.”

He was offering her something no one had offered him, a gift few get. How many families stay in contact with convicted child molesters? How many friends stay when all you can do is beg for money? If they found out you fucked for money, how many would answer your calls? Love is limited, a chained thing bleeding its life out in drips, destined to die under the scalpel of expectations. Friends stay as long as you're worthy in their lying eyes. As long as you aren't an embarrassment, a liar, a thief, or a broken boy who needs more than he can give. That’s the timer on forever.

But Cesare had nothing and no one. His loyalty and love were worthless. Monsters are all around us. They’re in the treacherous smiles of cheating spouses, birthed in the poisoned words of friends, and wiggling in the eyes of children. All of them looking to use you as a stepping stone to get ahead. Everyone is a monster lacking only the strength to birth themselves into abominations of savage evil. The people you love are evil too … it doesn't change your feelings for them.

“Power.” The simple answer brought a crease to his lips, too cruel to be a smile.

“That's a goal, not a purpose. Everyone wants power, for women, money, leisure, validation, pride, revenge … lots of reasons. Why do you want power?” It was a delicate question, one she wouldn’t answer.

She hesitated, knowing the answer was a weapon that could be turned against her. “Do you know how many of my sisters want to be like our mother? Every single one of them. They all went through a period where they threw themselves into training: Ebon Flame, combat, politics, diplomacy, science and business. They got as good as they could, and it was never good enough. They failed without touching her glory. Lost in her shadow, they settled for lesser dreams, broken by a myth that couldn’t be touched. Hundreds have tried to match her. The best made names for themselves, but none as great as Kali, Keeper of the Ebon Flame, the Great Destroyer. She’s saved nations and clans, shepherded my people through the eternal war with the Illuminati. My people revere her as the pinnacle of my race, a living goddess. I want to be her successor. I want to be her heir. I want her to be proud of me. That's why I want power.”

“You want to be like your mother?” Cesare asked.

“Yes,” Anastasia said.

“That's why you fail.” Anastasia flushed in anger at his words. “You’ll never be Lady Kali, the Dark Mother. You're Anastasia, the Lady of Ruin. That’s who you are and that's who you need to be. The world’s moved on. Lady Kali's thousands of years old. She's reigned through a time when humans changed very little. In the last hundred years, the world has transformed into a different animal. The world doesn't need another Kali. It needs a person for this day and age: stronger, smarter, and craftier. Someone wise in the ways the human cancer. It's going to take more than just your Ebon Flames; it's knowing the tools of war.”

“You want to be her successor? Then you can't set the bar at where she is … you have to be better than that. Only then will you truly come into your own and be who you’re meant to be.” If you want to be great, you can’t dream common dreams. Alexander the Great, Genghis Khan, and Caesar, conquered the world with their monstrous dreams that devoured lesser men. It’s the razor's edge cutting the feet of those that walk it, the abyss eager for any misstep.

Cesare tightened his arm at the shiver that ran through her. “I'm not sure I can …” It’s a hard thing to face the horrors your dreams demand of you. Reading through the books on Lady Kali, she was … a walking apocalypse. Countries had fallen to her. Not her armies or her Imperium, just her. Alone. She was a force of nature, all consuming and unstoppable.

“Do you think I can do it?” It wasn’t the voice of the Anastasia he knew. The one who threw herself into training until exhaustion flensed her heart bare. This was the voice of a much younger Anastasia. One scared and alone, desperate for someone to believe in her, for one person to tell her she could do it.

“I don't think you can. I know you can. Hard and sharp, we'll forge you into something devoid of softness. A volcano has no feelings. A hurricane doesn’t care about the people it kills. Your mother is revered as much as she’s feared. You can’t make people love you Anastasia, but you can make them fear you. We will make you an abomination beyond anything they’ve seen before.” The words soaked into Anastasia, watering dreams she’d nurtured in the darkness of her soul.

She snuggled into his side. “You'll help me?”

“I said I’d do anything for you. I meant it.” Cesare said.

“I was out of line. I was scared for you, but I should have thought before saying that shit. I don't think you’re stupid.” She meant it, but it was still too raw for him to deal with. It was too close to how the other students saw him. How much of what she said was how she really felt? How much of her niceness was a mask to get what she wanted? That was a question he never wanted answered.