As sunrise approached, Lawrence followed the other Fledgelings through the castle. In a dark, dusty corridor lined with ebony doors on either side, his new room sat at the very end on the left. He went inside, closing the door behind him, and glanced around at where he’d be staying until he was old enough to become an Acolyte—from what he’d seen, though, the Acolytes’ rooms weren’t much better.
In the right corner was his bed, upon which waited a folded sheet, blanket, and a pillow. The only window, arched and on the back wall between his bed and a dresser, had wooden shutters locked tightly; no light poured in from outside. Several old lanterns hung on the walls—it was almost like this place hadn’t been updated in centuries. But his sharp eyes quickly located a switch, and when he flicked it, the lanterns lit up. For a moment, he thought he’d have to find a lighter or something.
He slumped down on his bed and glanced around. There was an outlet behind the nightstand, so at least he’d be able to charge his phone. However, there wasn’t a TV or a stereo, and he wondered what the fuck he was supposed to do while hiding away from the sunlight. He knew that the higher-ranking vampires had TVs and shit in their room, so why didn’t he? Was he supposed to buy it himself? Probably. He had his things at his apartment; he could go and get them when night fell again.
Lawrence sighed deeply and shuffled back so that he could lean against the wall. He had a lot of thinking to do—a lot of plotting. He wanted Abbot to experience the same feeling of betrayal that he felt…or at least something close enough, and he had a pretty good idea of how to do that. Lawrence knew that the Count trusted Master Percival with his life; he was Abbot’s best friend, and he was the perfect target. But he had to be smart and careful. If he said the wrong thing or made the wrong move, Percival could and would very well tear his head off.
He learnt a lot about the coven when he was with Abbot, though, and he knew exactly what Percival liked; he knew exactly what he was into.
Someone knocked on his door.
Lawrence looked over there and called, “Yeah?”
When it opened, General Bronson came in. “Are you settling in okay?” he asked.
With a nod, Lawrence took his phone from his pocket and put it on his nightstand. “It’s not the worst room I’ve seen.”
Bronson looked a little hesitant…again. He closed the door behind him and sighed deeply as he moved towards the bed. “Lawrence…look,” he said, stopping a few feet from the bed. “You killed a human, and once that Count Abbot had a personal interest in. But as it currently stands, only you, me, and my team know what really happened out there.”
Lawrence frowned. “What really happened?” he questioned.
“In my report, I told Count Abbot that the human crashed his car into a deer, and my team and I altered the scene to match my story.”
His frown thickened. “What? Why?” he asked confusedly.
“Because Count Abbot would likely kill you if he found out what really happened, and he might be my superior, but I don’t want that to happen, nor do I believe that it’s what you deserve. Just…stay quiet about it, okay?”
Lawrence was admittedly shocked. Why was Bronson risking himself like that for him? He knew that quite a few of Abbot’s subordinates didn’t exactly love him, but did they despise him so much that they’d lie about one of his Fledgelings killing a human and breaking one of the treaty laws?
“Lawrence?” Bronson muttered.
He shook his head and looked up at him. “Yeah, no, don’t worry. Thank you.”
The General nodded. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Wait,” Lawrence said as Bronson turned around.
He stopped and set his sights back on Lawrence. “What?”
“Those wolves saw me kill that guy. What if they tell people in Myrefall what really happened?”
Bronson shook his head. “The wolves aren’t going to venture into the city, least of all talk to humans. They know that we’ve got vampires guarding the place.”
Lawrence rested his hands in his lap and straightened his legs on his bed. “I don’t get why Lord Alucard doesn’t just take out all the rogue wolf packs. They cause so much shit all the time. It’d be easier to remove them altogether.”
“I kind of get it,” the General said. “After the divide between their species, I think things just got messy. Some of the rogues—better known as werewolves—have family and friends who chose to side with the Nosferatu and Fenrisúlfr, becoming wolf walkers instead. They didn’t want to kill each other. Although that was over a century ago, they still share that hesitance. The Vârcolac are supposed to keep the werewolves and any rogue wolf walkers in line, but they’ve been busy with what’s going on in Ascela.”
With a deep sigh, Lawrence nodded and dragged his fingers through his tawny hair. He didn’t really have time to sit there talking about wolf walkers and werewolves, though. “I’m allowed to walk about the castle during the day, right?” he asked, changing the subject. He wanted to start working on Percival as soon as he could.
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General Bronson frowned in concern. “You are, yes, but not every room is sunlight-proofed. You need to be very careful.”
“All right, thanks.”
“If you need me, you know where to find me.”
Lawrence nodded. “Yeah, I appreciate it.”
Bronson then turned around again—
But then something struck his mind. “Wait,” he blurted.
The General stopped and stared at him, looking a little amused.
“I actually…was curious about something,” Lawrence said, pondering to himself. Maybe he did have time to talk about wolf walkers and werewolves. The very reason that this coven wasn’t under constant attack by the humans of Myrefall was because they shared a treaty; the vampires would keep the city and its inhabitants safe from the werewolf packs which lurked in the woods. It was Abbot’s job to ensure that the treaty was protected and upheld. What if…Lawrence could use that to tear him down?
“Oh?” Bronson replied.
“Yeah…the treaty that the coven has with Myrefall. It’s our duty to protect the humans from the werewolves, right?”
The General nodded. “Well, it is technically the entire coven’s duty, but only the Knights are positioned around the city’s entrances.”
Lawrence was admittedly a little envious of Knight vampires. Not only were they trained intensely to fight off lycans, but they were also the only vampires other than those created originally by Lord Alucard who could walk in the sunlight. What he wouldn’t give to get his hands on a day-walker’s enchanted pendant. Maybe he’d rise to reach that rank someday.
He shifted his attention back to Bronson. “So like…what happens if a werewolf kills a human?”
Bronson exhaled deeply. “Well, that would definitely be a huge problem. Making deals with humans is one thing, but them keeping their part is a whole other situation. One slip-up would probably shatter the treaty…mainly because it’s already happened.”
“A werewolf already killed someone from the city?”
The General moved closer and gestured to the edge of Lawrence’s bed. “May I?”
He nodded.
Bronson sat down. “It was a long time ago—I want to say fifty or sixty years, and yes, humans really do hold onto shit that long. One of our Knights was killed in an attack that the werewolves had been planning for weeks, and Count Abbot didn’t have anyone else lined up to replace her. The next night, a wolf slipped in under a mesh fence and killed a mother and her two kids. It was a fucking mess,” he explained, shaking his head. “The humans threatened war—and not just on our coven. It wouldn’t have gotten as far as they wanted it to, though.”
“Did they terminate the treaty?” Lawrence asked.
“They tried to, but Lord Alucard was able to save it by finding the wolf who did it and letting humans burn it in their city square.” He scoffed a little. “And humans say that Caeleste have fucked up traditions.”
Amused, Lawrence laughed quietly.
“So we’re technically already on thin ice. Lord Alucard sent reinforcements over; we’re actually the only coven with this many Knights,” Bronson continued.
Lawrence schemed for a moment. Using the treaty to tear Abbot down seemed like a good but risky way to go. He didn’t want to be the reason why the treaty was completely abolished, but it was too good an opportunity to miss, especially since Abbot had fucked up more than once already as a leader. If he somehow got the humans to threaten war again, Lord Alucard would have to step in…and maybe he’d offer Abbot up as a sacrifice this time.
A snide little grin stretched across his lips. Abbot burning at the stake…. The idea pleased him, but it also made him feel guilty. But he wasn’t about to ask himself if what he was doing was right. It was. He’d already decided. Abbot had to pay.
“Why?” Bronson then asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. “You thinking of becoming one?”
“What? A Night?”
He nodded.
“I mean…maybe. What are the requirements?”
“Well, Fledgelings are accepted into training sometimes, but only when they show distinct prowess during lessons. Other than that, you just have to pass the training, which I’ve heard is rather intense. You have to go through sunlight exposure to see how long you last out in the open during the day without your day-walker pendant.”
Lawrence’s eyes widened. “Daylight exposure? Don’t we just immediately burn up?”
“No. The older you are, the more you can endure, but nobody has lasted longer than a minute.”
“A minute? That’s not very long at all.”
“It kind of is…if you think about it. A vampire can travel very far in sixty seconds.”
That was true. But Lawrence couldn’t be thinking about that right now. At the moment, his main focus was his mission to tear down Abbot. He could work out where his new immortal life would take him once the Count had gotten his karma.
“You might be good at it,” the General said. “You know the city well.”
“Maybe,” he said with a sigh. Now that he knew how he was going to tear Abbot down, he shifted his attention back to making him feel the same pain of betrayal that he had. “Do you think that…Master Percival would like…be up for talking or something?”
Bronson frowned. “You’re going to ask Master Percival for advice?”
“I mean…maybe. The guy is kinda intimidating, but he knows his stuff, right?”
“He does, but so does Carol. She’s the Fledgelings’ teacher.”
“I know, I just…feel like having more than one person’s perspective would be good, you know? And he’s fought in pretty much every war, too, so he’d be the best guy to ask, wouldn’t he?”
The General looked conflicted and scratched the back of his head. “I mean…yes, but he’s not the teaching type. He’s a lot like Count Abbot; he drinks a lot, keeps us in line when he’s not drunk or hanging around with the Count. Finding him sober is very rare, too, so I can’t speak for how much help he’ll really be.”
None of that discouraged Lawrence. “Where can I find him?”
“Right now?” Bronson asked unsurely.
“Yeah.”
“He’s probably still with the Count, but he patrols the castle in an hour, and then he’ll probably head up to his room.”
With a deep sigh, Lawrence nodded and crossed his legs. “I might go and look for him later, then.”
“All right…but watch how you speak to him. He’s very specific and demands respect.”
“I know, don’t worry. Hopefully, he’ll give me even the tiniest piece of advice.”
“You might get lucky,” the General chuckled. “If you don’t have any luck with him, though, I’m around. I’ve fought in a few battles—not as many as my superiors, but what I know might still be of some use.”
Lawrence smiled a little. “Cool. Thanks.”
Bronson then stood up. “I’ve got to get back on duty. Good luck with Master Percival.”
“Yeah, and thanks for the info, too. Later.”
The General left the room and closed the door behind him.
Lawrence lay down and stared up at the ceiling. He knew what he had to do. First, he had to get to Percival, and then he needed to work out how he was going to put the treaty at stake and make it look like Abbot’s fault. While his first task was risky in its own way, he had all the answers that he needed, but for his second, he needed more information…information that he probably wasn’t going to find inside the castle walls. But he’d get it. He’d find out everything he needed to know about that treaty, the werewolves, the Knights, and the humans.