”Adi! Adriana, I have a message for you!” Adriana de Flaviis snapped her head toward the voice of a young man dressed in a dark gray business suit. She rolled her eyes and snarled, “Oh, what the hell is it now?” He ignored her tone and simply handed her a small envelope, sealed with dark red wax. She stood as she accepted it, waving the man off. “Oh, how wonderful,” she mumbled. “I wonder what it is THIS time.” Adriana hastily flipped the envelope over and tugged at the seal, breaking it open. Inside was a perfectly folded letter on parchment. It had to be a letter from the Supervisor. He had been on her tail since the freak accident in Paris. She had killed almost half a city worth of humans to protect her fledgling progeny. The humans had tried to stake and drain him. She couldn't let it happen to any vampire, and most especially not her kin.
Adriana slowly unfolded the meticulously folded sheet in her hands, sucking in a deep breath to calm herself. If it were a letter from the Supervisor, and it almost certainly was, Adriana could be in for something more serious than even imaginable. The punishment for a human death, when not in self-defense, was immediate death to the guilty vampire and death to all progeny within three generations. It would mean that she and her young ones, Kira and Leo, would be sentenced to a slow and agonizing death. They would be stripped down and would wear nothing but tiny chains of silver over their necks, chests, arms, and upper legs, exposing all but the most intimate of parts on their bodies. The three of them would be tethered to an Orci, a human in service to the supervisor, in the earliest parts of the morning, and be forced to watch as the sun rose to meet them with their torturous deaths.
Adi shuddered as she thought of the unbearable pain that she and her children would have to endure. ‘Not now,’ she said to herself. Adriana stood in shock as she read what was written so neatly on the front of the page in Swedish. It was, in fact, a letter from the chambers of the Supervisor, but not anything that she expected.
To my dearest Acheliah,
I humbly request your presence, along with that of your progeny, Mister Leon and Miss Kira de Flaviis, at the annual Autumn Fest ball on the 13th day of September. It would be a great honor if you would come and speak to the Council about the accomplishments made this year in the American and Norhtland regions of our home. I would also like to honor your progeny for their first fifty years by welcoming them to the sub-committee.
I would much appreciate it if you could send post with your acceptance of this invitation. Both my children and myself have missed you greatly in these past few years.
Mr. Alexander Sidorov, Council Leader
Adriana was beyond shocked when she read the letter. It had been years since she had last seen her good friend Alex and his family and it had been even longer since he had called her by her archangel’s name. After about four-hundred years, all vampires were named as archangels. Adriana carried within her the soul and life-force of Acheliah, the angel of passion and lust.
Adriana was a little suspicious, though, about him asking personally for her to attend. And the sub-committee acceptance for her progeny? It seemed a little unlikely given their young age. Adi thought, and deep down knew, that there was another reason that he wanted her there. But for what? She tried not to dwell on it too much. Maybe he just really wanted her to be there to do the speech. Maybe he really did want her progeny in power.
Regardless of his reasoning, she was going. She couldn’t really decline the opportunity to meet with some young minds and with some of the Elders, as well. And hey, she might even find a new guy. She’d been single for too long now and she was getting bored. ‘You only live once. You may as well have fun....’ Adi broke out laughing at the thought of “living only once.” It didn’t matter how many lives you lived when you were over five-hundred years old and immortal. You could live thousands of lifetimes as any human would live one.