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We fought all night for Inna, the old fashion way, with rusty swords of another time. The wounds we inflicted on each other were not fatal. Jesus recovered in no time while I found myself in a pitiful anemia state, which slowed the healing.
Now I wake engulfed in what appears to be a sleeping bag; I can't move. I stare at my legs, and I realize that half of my body is in Tarnish's mouth, her stomach gases burn my still bruised limbs, "JESUS."
"Tarnish, stop it."
Tarnishs' thoughts reverberate in our minds, "he is unworthy of his title. He has never proven any worth. He sides with the humanus and the Hawks, who wish our destruction. He has made the predators prey; he refuses you the priceless one. let him perish."
"Jesus, tell your pet to stop. Now."
"Tarnish, let him go."
She regurgitates me and slivers away. Numb, I remain on the floor. Jesus comes and sits next to me.
"Søren, Tarnish wants you to understand."
"Your snake attempted to gobble me; she has no notion of the meaning of diplomacy."
"Forgive her, please."
"Jesus, you won, but you can't have her. Inna is human; she has rights. You can not use her in any way without her giving consent. Nor you or I can have her."
I cloaked her becauseㅡof my uncontrollable desire to feed myself, I admit it, but I've revised my judgment since. Inna doesn't know she has power.
Jesus gets up and paces, "the Hawks are preparing something, Søren. Perhaps the girl is our only chance. In all the cities I've been, vampires are being registered."
"We're all registered, Jesus."
"No, Søren not like that; they are tagging us like lambs giving us numbers. I've seen it, Søren; this is what happened to the varcolâc."
"Stop it, Jesus. You know they choose to live in the woods."
"Søren, stop being blind; this peace is a mirage. Behind the scenes of the glittery show, the Hawks still wish to exterminate us. There have been murders in New York. Someone is killing Seconds with the laws you established; we are weaker. Most no longer know how to defend themselves without trespassing Strigoi law and risking a scattering. Only Firsts know war, the next generation of Strigoi's most potent weapon is Tik Tok videos. We've lost our identity, don't you see? We're becoming humans. Many accuse you of being the Hawks accomplice. The Arcadius are taking advantage of this. They put forth how you starve yourself and how you prefer daylight to the night, which is our realm. Tarnish foresees a great disaster, Søren. You must take a firm stand for our species. We must seize power and control humans before they do it to us. No one has killed slaughtered more than humans have. Even amongst themselves, they act like cannibals."
"You sound so much like him," I get up and go and take a shower.
The water relieves my body but not my consciousness. Jesus' words echo within; I do not privilege humans. I stand for peace.
Is it wrong to wish to live alongside them?
Why does one have to be enslaved by another?
To be or not be at the mercy of others, all species have done it, is it encrypted in our DNA to abuse authority and brand one as cattle?
This logic is what I refute, but it's making me a traitor in my nation's eyes.
A black tee and slim pants later I send in the kitchen where I watch Jesus make himself at home as he rummages through my cupboards.
Jesus' ability to swing his temperament from severe to clown has always astounded me. One minute he is talking politics, and the next, he wonders where I'm hiding my Cheerios.
"Ahem, Lord Søren, we are ready for the council."
Jesus sticks his head out of my fridge with a well-defined milk mustache, and we look above us.
"Damn, I forgot the trimestrial high counsel with the First Royals."
My gaze remains on the ceiling, where one hundred and ninety bats are stacked on the rails installed for them. All the members of the council can see and hear us through their eyes.
"You may proceed," I say as Jesus pulls his robe closer and takes a seat.
"Counsel 57, presided by Lord Søren Waldermar Tepes, son of Vlad Tepes IV, lord Dracos, the father of allㅡ."
"Eh, you can stop there. I think I've said it every time in the last century, but please add to the order of the day that I no longer want to hear a ten-minute-long resume of my family tree. Also, Soren will do."
I siege as a Tepes, I'm a Lord, but the respect given is too much, especially since I gave up the throne.
Jesus claps, "bravo."
It's only now I understand why Jesus came to my house; he knew we would reunite today.
"Oh, lordㅡ."
Gert stops; Jesus' name is a problem for many lords who have a hard time pronouncing it because of what it represents. Here it's, even more, an issue as lady Gert is about to experience.
"Lord Jesㅡ," she stumbles on one of the most taboo words for vampires.
"Come on, lady Gert, you can do it," Jesus urges. Lady Gert's discomfort amuses him. For Jesus, all is mere entertainment.
"Lord Jesus," lady Gert says in despair.
"Yes, that's the spirit," Jesus exclaims.
I shake my head in disproval; he should have named himself provocation, the domain in which he excels.
"First motion."
"Okay," I cut short," first I want the following punished for abandoning their seconds with death by scattering."
A stake isn't efficient; the only accurate method to kill a vampire is scattering. The vampire has their limbs pulled apart, burnt until ashes are left. The dust is mixed with silver powder, which prevents the bones from regenerating.
The remains are distributed in the five corners of the world in deserts, volcanos, or oceans. No vampire has ever come back from a scattered death.
My father was the first to experience death by the method. His sacrifice ended the war between the last Helsings and us.
