Chapter 22

2.4K 207 10
                                    

Violin music flowed through the underground club. Crystal glasses filled with ruby liquid rose high as a leggy blonde called out the age old Vampire toast: "To the Blessed!" Frog's blood splashed down greedy throats. 

Patrick watched dispassionately as couples attacked each others lips with glazed eyes.  The night, he reflected, was turning out to resemble a scene out of Shakespeare's dark comedies. Nothing, but absolutely nothing, was going according to plan. The wound at the top of his arm stung, though it had stopped bleeding a while back. 

"You look like you need a drink, Highlander." Ismail seated himself in the chair beside Patrick's. He was wearing Ottoman formal attire, the emerald jacket making his intense green eyes look larger; more difficult to hide from.

"I received your note," Patrick did not bother with a greeting. His mood was foul and he wanted to go home. His temper had been sorely tried during the three hours he had spent with the villains, waiting for the authorities to arrive and answering all their ridiculous questions. Idiots! How did humans plan to protect their own when they picked such fools to be their guardians?

The fact that the wasted time and this unexpected meeting meant Violet was likely to be asleep by the time he made it back to his house only worsened his mood. He had thought of nothing but her for days. No, it felt like he had thought of only her since the first time he saw her weeks ago; playing her violin while a lion circled her, ready to pounce. "What is the emergency?"

"I will not ask what the matter is because your brow is twitching, Highlander, which means you are as likely to bite my head off as share your concerns with me."

Shooting his friend a withering look, Patrick took a sip from his glass of blood, "Do you think I don't realise you just did what you said you wouldn't do? But you are right, I'm not in the mood to talk. It is nothing in either case. So your emergency..."

"I have to leave the city for a few days and there are two more members of my clan coming in on Monday to help with the arrangements of the ceremony in a few weeks."

Suddenly, a Vampire appeared behind Ismail, putting her hand on his arm before pulling it away just as suddenly. Her high cheekbones flushed, she stammered, "I'm sorry, Leader, I forgot the rule."

Long brown hair, big eyes and delicate features, she was beautiful, but Patrick knew that would make no difference. Anyone else would likely have followed her willingly, but she had gone and picked the only man who was not interested in carnal pleasures. 

"You came to me for pleasure," Ismail lifted her downturned face, looking into her surprised eyes. "And if I touch you, you will feel pleasure. You will grow warm, then hot and then? Quicker than you might imagine the heat will fade." Running the outside of his fingers down the length of her cheek, Ismail gazed into the woman's eyes, "Would you not prefer the heat to last? To sink from your skin into your blood and your heart? In your long, vampire's life, do you want to walk cold and alone or warm and complete?"

Patrick watched in amazement as tears filled the woman's eyes. She was trembling, her gaze searching the Ottoman's as if to find her salvation there.

"I want to be complete." It was a whisper, a hope.

Ismail smiled, "Wanting is the half of receiving. We all get what we truly want. Believe it."

"Yes." The woman stared for a moment more, then cast a quick glance at Patrick, bowed and left.

"You say the strangest things, Ottoman." Patrick took another sip of his drink.

Ismail watched the girl's retreating back, then shrugged. "Maybe, but it was what she needed to hear. Now, what was I saying? Ah yes, my clan members..."

"I'll see that they are taken care of. When will you be back?"

"Next week. I've promised to attend the Duke of Neville's ball. Highlander, one of the Vampires, her name is Ayse. I am considering her for my succession. I would like your opinion."

"Isn't it a bit early for such thoughts?" Patrick asked, surprised.  True, Ismail was a century older than Patrick, but at six-hundred-ten, he had a long while yet before he would need to think of passing on the post. 

"No, the time is right. The Princess will give birth soon Highlander, and we both know there will be some who do not wish for that child to reach maturity. I intend to remain close by to watch over the child and I can not do that and fulfil my duty as the Leader of the Southern Clan."

Patrick knew Ismail's worry for the child was not unfounded. There were some who believed the Blessed ones were a curse to the Vampire kind. Ignoring the reality that without the Blessed, vampires were condemned to extinction, they advocated the True Vampire beliefs. No mixing, no evolution, the True Vampires wanted to rid the world of the Blessed and declare dominance over human kind. For now, they had little power and following, but Ismail had always been a preacher of precaution so his stance now came as no surprise.

"I will speak to this Ayse," he said at last. The violin music continued to swirl around and intoxicate the vampires in the room. Although the night was young, several women were naked underneath their chosen partners. Patrick's mind went to Violet. He thought of the way she had danced that evening,  her hair flying, her skirts riding high, her face turned up, smiling with abandon. "Right, since I've heard you out, I'm going home."

Ismail laughed, a short surprised laugh. "What is happening to you, Highlander. I don't think you've even noticed that line of women over there who have been trying to catch your attention since you arrived!" 

Patrick glanced in the direction Ismail indicated and encountered six eager gazes. Unlike the woman sleeping soundly under his roof, these women were ready to take whatever he offered. They wouldn't frustrate him or confuse him or scoff at his wealth and power. And yet, he didn't want any of them. 

He only wanted Violet.

"Have a safe trip, my friend."

Ismail watched Patrick with an expression bordering between wonder and pride.

VIOLET DAWNWhere stories live. Discover now