Someone In The Dark

SITD 11

Michael led Mare by the hand down the sloping path again and into the council's chambers. The arched doorways sectioned off into narrow hallways and deeper into the catacombs where vampires could meet discreetly or slip into secret rooms. It was a den of debauchery, those who mastered shadow and night crept along its interior, as stealthy as they were amorous.

Always the metallic scent of blood filled the air. Lingering. Hovering. Here and there a scream or sigh of pleasure would permeate the air and then creepy silence would follow. The stillness waited as if alive, knowing it would not last, with bated breath, for the next victim.

Mare seemed skittish. She clutched at his body and hid her eyes often. He almost laughed but decided against it. Her innocence both intrigued and alarmed him. If she scared so easily at the entangled figures of vampyre and humans, what did she think when he kissed her? When he fed from her? When desire drove his hips into hers?

The message from Michael's sire had been urgent but vague. It had been a simple command. "Venire." Come. His sire, Cristo, wanted answers. He did not trust technology and rarely texted Michael. Only when it was necessary. Usually when he was perturbed with something Michael had done. Like now. He felt the scolding he knew was coming. Like a child, he pouted with a frown. Cristo could be lenient, and often coddled Michael, but he had a feeling this time it was going to be different.

Cristo was not fond of humans. His interactions with them were brief and rare. Even then his patience and tolerance were low. He loathed their weakness and petty squabbling. They were quick to condemn and judge, with little credence or afterthought. Cristo had tried for centuries to maintain a common ground and culture friendships. It had not gone well. As a result, Cristo allowed them to enter his domain only as the supplicants and slaves of other vampires.

The only reason Mare had managed to stay alive and untouched was Andre's protection and Cristo's presence. None would challenge the council but it was Cristo's reputation that cinched it. He was lethal. Cristo had trained Michael, along with masters of martial arts, as well as the great Fiori dei Liberi. Michael trained with the master swordsman, learning his technique, resulting in skill unrivaled in modern times.

Cristo was as skilled and deadly as Michael. Few had dared to openly confront him. Those who did perished quickly. A challenge to Cristo was inviting the ultimate death. Among the vampyre, he was considered Campione or Champion. He was creator and council, maker and leader. His word, his verdict, his presence was unquestionable and final. When he spoke, silence filled the room. He invoked authority and demanded respect. Cristo reigned.

Michael entered the outer office of Cristo's chambers. The room was less gaudy than the council's domed interior and gilded fountain. The colors ran natural, rich mahogany woods, tan and brown décor on the walls, chocolate brown leather chairs and sofas with gold accents. It was comfortable while lush. Michael knew how he despised the pageantry of the council. Cristo saw little need in opulence. He sought comfort and class, but that was the limit. Much like his personality, his office was quiet and unnerving.

"Creatore," Michael greeted, falling to his knees.

"Salire," Cristo answered, allowing him to rise. He paused to study Mare.

Cristo glided over to her, as if walking on air, taking her hand and leading her away from Michael's side. A moment of panic burst inside Michael's chest and he had to squelch the desire to pull her back. Open curiosity shown on Cristo's face. There was not a need to be guarded here. In his private chambers, Michael could relax. He knew Cristo wanted to understand the infatuation he felt for Mare. Nothing more.

Cristo twirled her around slowly, a smile spreading onto his face. He was a handsome man, though not as darkly handsome as Michael . His blonde hair was almost white, falling to his shoulders, and accentuated his lean lines and strong jaw. His eyes were an almost emerald green that penetrated your soul the moment you returned his gaze. Intelligence, nobility, arrogance, and intensity mingled inside those orbs. He mesmerized humans without effort, before compulsion even started.