Re-Forging - 2. Chapter 2

Needing large amounts of sleep must be an aftereffect of being changed into a vampire. That or vampires sleep so deeply that they don’t wake at things that used to wake me all the time. I’m saying this because we were not only at the farm, but James had pulled into the garage, and he and Scott had started unloading the bags before Scott reached in to grab my arm.

I was somewhat disappointed because I had hoped to see the house as we approached it. Scott had told me that it was a Gothic revival-style European manor. It was over nine thousand square feet, fourteen if you count the basement, seven bedrooms if you count the basement, six full bathrooms, and four half baths if you count the basement. Why did he keep saying that? Who doesn’t count the basement as part of the house?

I stretched when I got out of James’ truck, then went to grab my bag. I turned to follow Scott, and we both stopped when James said, “I had Mary move your stuff to the large room on the north side, Scott. We assumed that you would want to share with your mate. The other room is the largest, but we thought you might not like to be directly over our room when you two—”

“The north room is fine, Dad,” Scott interrupted. “I’ll show Greg the way, and we’ll be down in a few.”

As he led me out of the garage, we passed a set of stairs. When I asked why we didn’t use those, he explained that they were direct access from the garage to Mary’s apartment. When I asked who Mary was, he said she was the widow of James’ Esquire, who now worked as a housekeeper for the family. She was also Billy’s grandmother. The name rang a bell; then, I remembered James mentioning him when we overheard him on the phone with Mary.

Scott told me about Mary, and then I followed him through the house. He told me about each room we passed; I was seriously ready to ask him to draw me a map. Without one, I’d never find my way around. We had walked past a small office, turned right, gone through a gallery, past a more expansive study, and into the foyer. On our left was the entrance to the study, and on the right was the dining room. The front door was behind us as we looked at the two curving stairways that mirrored each other and met at a balcony. Beyond the stairways, I could see a massive room I later learned was called a grand salon, but right now, I was following Scott up the stairs to the balcony that was open to both the grand salon and the foyer.

We turned to the right, north, I assume, and stepped up two more steps, then into a bedroom larger than our garage at home. There was a king-size bed, two nightstands, a dresser with a mirror, and a tall dresser arranged in the near end of the room. On the far end, the walls on either side were bookshelves, from floor to ceiling. The end wall was glass, with a set of French doors that opened onto a private balcony overlooking the lake. Back inside, Scott showed me our bathroom: a large shower, separate tub, vanity with two sinks, and an enclosed toilet and bidet. Rounding out our bedroom suite, almost an apartment, was a walk-in closet roughly the size of my old bedroom.

As I looked around, amazed, Scott said, “I warned you that we’re kinda rich. I mean, this is nice and all, but I don’t really care about it, and once we can pass as adults, Mom and Dad will move back here, and we can live anywhere you want. Our house across from your dad, or somewhere in town, or even maybe build a place on the old farm.” He had started off quiet and slow, but by the time he finished, he was talking much faster and louder.

I grabbed him and pulled him to me, putting my finger over his lips as I said, “Shush.” When he calmed a bit, I grinned and said, “You really are six, aren’t you? Stop apologizing for having money; it’s really nice. As for where we’ll live, I don’t care if we live in a mansion like this or in a tent by the barn where I died as long as I have you. Do I have to keep saying that?”

He pulled away just a bit and tried to fake a pout as he said, “Stop pointing out that I’m six.” Then, more seriously, he said, “And don’t talk about you dying. You were also reborn so we could spend the next few centuries together; don’t forget that part. And no, I’ll never tire of hearing you say you’d be happy anywhere as long as we’re together. I happen to agree with that sentiment.”

He pulled me to him and kissed me. As our kisses became more passionate, Scott started to unbutton my shorts. I gently pushed him away, saying, “Let’s not start something we can’t finish. Your parents are waiting for us, um, somewhere in this palace.”

“Our,” he said, then added, “and it’s funny that you call it a palace. I’ve always teased Dad that he should add a few towers, and maybe he’ll get promoted to Baron. It would fit, don’t you think? And as much as I’d love to, I wasn’t undressing you to start something. This is home.”

“Huh?”

“We are nudists, remember? And this house, with towers, it would be more like a castle and a Baron—”

I nodded and quickly tossed my clothes onto the bed, saying, “No, not that; you said our.”

“Oh, well, under vampire law, he’s your dad too now since he’s your maker,” Scott explained.

I was surprised, but it made sense. Then I remembered Donna calling him my father when she handed me my first taste of stag’s blood. I didn’t know how I felt about it, but I sure hoped it didn’t mean I had to call him Dad now. That could get confusing, especially if I messed up and called him that in front of my human father. As we headed downstairs, I muttered, “This is going to take some time getting used to.”

Knowing his parents, er our parents, Scott headed directly to the kitchen, where we found them talking to a woman who was shorter than Scott and weighed less than my suitcase, with snow white hair in a style that went out of fashion about the time my father was born. When we entered, she looked up and smiled at Scott, then turned to me and, in what sounded like a Scottish accent, said, “I am Mary White, My Lord. It is so nice to meet ye. I’ll have to have ye figure out what bloods ye fancy while yer here.”

As I explained, “I’m not anyone special, Mrs. White; please call me Greg,” I saw her glance at James, and I noticed him give the slightest head shake, or was it just a twitch?

She shook her head and said, “Only if ye call me Mary. I’ve known your father for three hundred years, so I’m used to calling him by name.”

I smiled and replied, “As long as we understand each other, Mary. And if it helps, I can’t imagine anything that tastes as good as stag, but I’m willing to experiment; I’m at your disposal.”

Turning to Scott, she said, “Oh, he’s a charmer, he is. I see what our wee Scotty sees in him now.”

The reaction I expected never came as Scott blushed and said, “There’s much more to him than his charm, Grandma. He’s smart and, well, you can see he’s sexy, and he makes me feel special.”

“That’s because he's your fated mate, hen. I was in me second life before the gods sent me my Bill; you two are fair lucky, ye are." Turning back to me, Mary said, "Just sit down and let me get ye boys a wee drink. Dinner will be ready in two hours. I'm sorry to say yer father is drinking the last of the fresh stag I had; we didn’t expect ye back for another few weeks. Billy's out fetching some fresh."

I heard Donna gasp as James exclaimed, “You sent that boy out hunting with the sun still up? He’ll come back burnt to a crisp!”

“He’s hunted those woods in daylight since the first time his beast emerged, James; relax. He’s canny enough to know when he’s had enough and shift back.”

James was about to reply when I smelled it. Apparently, he did, too, because he turned to catch me, but he wasn’t quick enough. I jumped to my feet and ran as fast as I could, following the scent as it led me down the stairs and into the basement. I turned the corner and found a cold storage locker where a boy, who looked about sixteen, was hanging the carcasses of three whitetail deer, one female, and two male. From his reaction, my face mirrored my hunger. This was my favorite, and I was going to have it. Period!

The boy, Billy, I assumed, shifted to his beast form and quickly stepped between the hanging deer and me. Baring his fangs, he said, “I don’t know who ye are, but these are for Sire James. Ye gotta get past me to get them.”

Suddenly, I felt something inside me shift. Billy stood proudly defiant in front of me, and the desire to protect him washed over me like a tidal wave. I had come barreling in, intent on my prize, and I needed to defuse this. No matter what happened, I wasn’t going to ever intentionally harm this boy. The shift was subtle but significant. I consciously eased the tension from my arms, opening my clenched fists and letting my shoulders relax. While I couldn't bring myself to actually lower my gaze, something often done as an act of submission, I finally managed to divert my attention from his glowing golden eyes. I was consciously transmitting a message of de-escalation.

I'd made my point; I felt the tension in the air start to dissipate. Before either of us could make another move, we heard James, Mary, and Scott coming to the doorway, with Mary in the lead. He diverted his eyes slightly, keeping me in sight but also watching the door, assessing the next threat. I knew the instant his grandmother’s eyes landed on him because he immediately deflated, lowering his shoulders, hands, and eyes in one quick moment of submission. His actions surprised me, but Mary’s words shocked me to the core.

“William David White, what do ye think yer doing, young man? Ye best shift back this instant and apologize to His Lordship. If he don’t wallop yer hide, I darn sure will!”

Billy shifted to human in a flash; then his eyes darted from me to Mary and back several times before he asked, “Who’s His Lordship?”

Mary let out a quick, loud sigh through her nose, asking, “Dina, ye see his eyes, lad?” I realized that her Highlands Scottish accent was coming on a bit thicker, probably brought out by her agitation. I didn’t know what she meant about my eyes, but Billy sure did.

As soon as she had said it, his eyes darted to mine. The instant he saw them, he bowed his head and said, “Forgive me, My Lord. I dina know.”

I took a step forward, just getting close enough to reach out and take his chin, pulling his face up and forcing him to look at me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Billy, but please don’t do that again. I’m not someone you should be bowing to. I’m just me; I’m Greg.”

His eyes hadn’t met mine since our standoff, and now, he glanced at James before finally raising his eyes to my face. I knew the trick; I’ve done it for years. You’re supposed to look someone in the eyes when you talk to them, but sometimes, it makes you uncomfortable. The solution is simple, stare at their cheeks, or forehead, or that silly painting just behind their shoulder. Unfortunately for Billy, we were standing too close. I could tell he was staring at something just behind me, just over my left shoulder.

There was still tension between us, but it was different than what was in the air when I first entered. The first Billy was proud, strong, and defiant; he was the protector of the stags. The Billy that stood before me now was timid, shy, and almost fearful. He had already shown me two signs of submission, and I felt like if given the chance, he would roll onto his back and offer his belly to me.

I didn’t understand why I felt drawn to him, but I couldn’t deny it. I needed to make a connection; then it hit me. “Billy, would you let me help you drain and prepare the blood? I’ve never done it, and I need to learn.” Turning to Scott, I added, “Maybe Scott can help us too? More hands make for quick work or something like that.”

Scott nodded, so I turned back to see Billy’s lips curl up slightly as he resisted a grin before asking, “I’m not yet six, and I’ve done this since I couldn’t lift the carcass; how do ye get to be yer age, and ye don’t know nothing about draining and butchering a deer? Ye gotta be at least seven.” Billy had more than a hint of his grandmother’s Scottish accent; I found it endearing.

I blushed and said, “I’m seventeen. I’m a changeling, and I was just changed last night. It was…” I turned to James.

“I drained him last night around nine, Billy.”

I heard a gasp, and when I turned back, Billy was staring at me wide-eyed as he said, “Ye were changed less than eighteen hours ago, and yer on your feet?”

“Well, yeah. I guess I was in pretty good shape before I died, so—”

I realized that Scott had been pulling his punches for weeks because the slap that hit the back of my head knocked me into Billy, and my momentum carried us both to the floor. I knew what to expect, but I turned around anyway. Yup. I was getting a death glare from Scott. He pointed at me and growled, “I told you to stop. Focusing. On the fact. That. You. Died! I couldn’t live without you, Greg. Damnit, don’t you see that?”

His eyes were filling with tears, and I felt my heart sink. Twice in less than an hour, I had mentioned my death, and he had asked me not to. The first time, I had even made a joke about it, but obviously, to Scotty, it wasn’t a joke. I sprang to my feet and closed the distance between us in a split-second, wanting to wrap my arms around him and hold him; to let him know I was there. To my surprise, there were already arms around my mate. A shorter someone with wavey black hair, tight abs, and an extremely cute butt. I actually shook my head to clear those thoughts away as I watched Billy comforting my man. ‘That should be me’, I thought, and while the thought should have made me jealous, it only multiplied my shame for ignoring Scott’s wishes. I vowed I would never speak of that topic again.

“Billy, don’t; Greg will get jealous. I’m alright.”

“No, Scotty, yer not, I know ye. I’m yer wee bairn, remember?”

I saw the corners of Scott’s mouth lift just a touch as he said, “Yeah, you’re my wee bairn, but Greg’s my mate. He’s my babe, and a wee one has to step aside when there’s a new babe.”

I saw Billy’s arms relax and knew I needed to move quickly, so I stepped up behind Billy and put my arms around both of them, saying, “He’s right, Billy, and he’s wrong. He’s right because I’m his babe, and he’s my hon, and we’re together for as long as he can tolerate me. He’s wrong because, when you share love, it doesn't divide it so each person gets a share; it multiplies it, so there’s more to go around.”

They both tried to speak at the same time:

Scott: “Greg, we’ve never—”

Billy: “My Lord, I’m not—”

“Hush, both of you. I never asked if you did, if you do, or if you want to. It’s obvious that you love each other. I’m not going to come between you, just like Scott hasn’t come between me and the guys I love like brothers. With love, all things are possible. Isn’t that what the Christian God said?” I felt two heads nodding, “Then, with love, we can figure out our feelings and our places. How’s that sound?”

I again felt two heads nodding. I held them for a few minutes as time stood still. I didn’t know if James and Mary were still in the room or not, and I didn’t care. This was about us. Holding them, I felt the same love I had for Scott for Billy, and I wasn’t going to let go of either of them until they were ready. Just as I was worrying that Billy was suffocating or being crushed between us, I felt Scott’s arms relax, so I relaxed my grip. When we looked around, we were alone. I focused and heard James, Donna, and Mary having a quiet conversation from the direction of the kitchen. I quickly changed my focus. I understood privacy, and I wasn’t going to invade theirs.

As we separated, I realized that a large volume of my blood had migrated south. As I looked at Scott and Billy, I saw that they had a similar situation. I also realized that Billy was a very lucky young man. I decided that if they could ignore it, so could I. Unfortunately, I’m seventeen, and as mature as I was when around adults, I was with two teenage boys. I bumped Billy to get his attention, looked down, and… honest, I tried not to say it, but I failed.

“You may have been a wee bairn when you were younger, but I don’t think I’d call that thing wee.”

Billy blushed and quickly turned away, saying, “I can’t help it, My Lord; it’s got a mind of its own.”

That did it. Mary had called me that twice, and now, Billy had called me that three times. This was getting weird. I knew that commoners called James ‘Sire’, but do I get called ‘My Lord’ because I’m his son? I hadn’t heard anyone calling Scott, My Lord. I turned to Scott.

“Why are Mary and Billy calling me My Lord? It can’t be because I’m James’ son, can it?”

Scott was looking at me, but Billy was looking at Scott as he asked, “He’s really only a few hours old? And no one’s told him?”

Scott quickly turned to Billy and asked, “And when did your wee eyes start to glow?”

The look of shock told me that Billy had no clue what Scott was talking about, but I nodded and said, “When you were confronting me in your beast form, your eyes were like, softly glowing.”

“Where’s a mirror? This can’t be, I’m not ready.” Billy exclaimed as he ran from the room. A few seconds later, we heard his shout, “I can’t be! I’m not even six!”

I followed Scott as he ran toward the sound of Billy’s shouting. We found him in his beast form in the shower room next to the gym, staring at the reflection of his lightly glowing golden eyes.

He turned to us, “Gods and fates, it can’t be, it just can’t.”

“Stop, Billy, just stop. Maybe it can’t be, but you can’t deny that it is,” Scott said, wrapping his arms around Billy and kissing his forehead. “The glow is still soft, bairn; you still have time.”

“Yes, but…” Billy stopped and glanced at me, “We’ve got to tell him.”

“No, Billy, I’ve got to tell him,” came James’ voice from behind us. We were so distracted by Billy’s panic that none of us had heard him come down the stairs and enter the room. Worse, Scott and I were facing a mirror, and we hadn’t noticed him walk in until he spoke. I glanced at the mirror to confirm. Yup, four images. I really needed to ask about that soon.

We were all staring at James. I had been standing behind the other two, and when James entered, I turned to face him fully. Scott had his arms around Billy’s waist, and they had turned as a pair. Without a word, James gave a quick tilt of his head, indicating that we should follow. The only sound was the occasional slap of a bare foot on the tile floor as we followed him upstairs and into the study. I had only glimpsed it through the door as we carried my bags to our room, but this was an office to die for. Oh, sorry. This was an office that anyone would envy. Deep pile maroon and gold carpet, cherry bookshelves lining the walls, and a massive cherry desk with a red leather chair behind it. Two matching armchairs sat in front, facing the desk at angles, and off in the corners were two others, as well as a leather sofa, chair, and coffee table in one corner, creating a conversation pit. I think that’s the term.

James pointed to the sofa, and the message was clear. I sat in the center with one of my boys on either side of me, nestled in tight. My boys? I was surprised when Mary came in, carrying a tray with wine glasses full of what my nose told me was blood. I smelled the sweet aroma of stag, and I also caught the scent of something nasty. I knew in an instant that I never wanted to even taste whatever it was. She handed a glass to James, then came to the sofa and bent down. I reached for a glass.

“Not that one, My Lord. That’s Billy’s. These two are for ye and yer mate,” she said as she handed the one glass to Billy, then handed Scott and me ours.

Scott giggled, and Billy gave him a nasty look. I wanted to inquire, but James was staring at me, and I felt like I was back at school; in the principal’s office that day, Jake, Josh, and I had poured dish soap in the sprinkler system and buried the football field in bubbles. I got the distinct impression that this was much more severe, much more enduring.

As Mary was handing me my glass, James said, “Thank you, Mary; please close the doors behind you.” My heart fell.

After a moment, during which James sipped his stag and surveyed the three of us, he stepped to the chair opposite us and sat. After taking another sip, he set his glass down and spoke.

“Greg, as I said on the way up here, until last night, I’d never made a changeling, so I have no personal experience to draw on. Due to that, and the fact that, well, Greg, you’re not… I hate to say that you’re not normal because that could be taken wrong. Please understand that by normal, I mean average; there’s nothing wrong with you. It’s just that, according to everything I’ve ever been told, a changeling remains in a state of semi-consciousness for twenty-four hours, sometimes longer, before they become fully aware and able to move about on their own. As you know, you were awake after twelve.

“That fact alone caused me to seek counsel, so I called a man I’ve known for four centuries, a man I’ve trusted with my life and that of my mate. An ancient vampire, I don’t really know his true age, but I know that he was called ancient when I was a pup.” Noticing our stiff bodies and wooden expressions, he relaxed and said, “I’m sorry, boys, relax. What we’re discussing is extremely serious, but none of you are in any trouble. None whatsoever. Drink up, relax, and let me explain.”

I relaxed just a bit and took a drink of the stag’s blood. Mary must have gone down and drained one of the carcasses in the few minutes we were distracted by Billy’s panic. What I tasted at the other house was good, but this was the nectar of the gods. It was full, it was fresh, and it was still warm. I turned slightly to glance at Billy and caught a whiff of whatever he was drinking; I almost gagged.

“Where was I… Oh yes. As I mentioned, shortly after you woke, I placed a call to Prince George; well, he returned my call, and he’s eager to meet you, Greg.” I felt my eyebrows shoot up, and I can imagine that my eyes bulged. A Prince? Wanted to meet… me?

James gave me a loving grin, saying, “Surprising, I know, especially for one so young. Still, he’s made arrangements for us to fly out there next week. He wanted you to come on Friday and enjoy the weekend, but I explained about the court date, and he completely understood.

“Your upcoming meeting with the Prince is not the reason we’re talking right now. I’m fairly certain that Scott and Lord William here—”

“Forgive me, Sire, but please continue to call me Billy. I’m… I’m kinda overwhelmed as it is.”

James smiled a fatherly smile and said, “While I’ve never had something like this happen to me, I think that I can empathize with you, Billy. And you do realize that you are no longer obligated to call me Sire?”

“It’s what I’m used to, Sire, er, sorry, I’ll try to stop.”

“Do what feels comfortable, Billy. Today, we are just four men having a conversation over a drink. But there is a point to this, and that point revolves around Greg.” He turned to me and continued, “I know that Scott tried to give you a crash course, as they say, in some of the things you need to know. Unfortunately, most vampires in your position have decades, some even centuries, to prepare for what has been thrust upon you by the gods. I fear I am stumbling around blind; I’ve never been in this position. Greg, what do you remember of what Scott told you about our nobility?”

“We’re ruled by a council of nine Princes; their decrees come down to the common vampire through several levels of nobility. From the bottom up, there are Baronets, like you, then Barons, Viscounts, Counts, and the Council. Why are there no Dukes?”

“That is a question you can ask His Highness when you meet with him. You retained everything Scott told you, but he didn’t tell you all the details. Our nobility are chosen at the whims of the gods. We can be advanced or removed in a heartbeat, and they have chosen a rather unique method of telling us our roles. Tell me, Greg, do you remember when I drained you? Or were you too far gone at that point?”

I glanced at Scott, knowing the memory of last night would make him uncomfortable. I said, “I remember parts of your face, and I heard you tell someone to pull the board out.” I felt Scott flinch, so I put my arm around him and pulled him tighter to my side.

“So you didn’t see my eyes? Well, no matter. The gods show the world whom they have chosen for a noble post through the use of eye color, Greg. Each rank has a color that is specific to a role. I am a Baronet, and my beast’s eyes are what is called seafoam green. Briefly, I’ll give you some of the more pertinent colors and the ranks associated with them. Our Princes have royal blue eyes, while a Count’s eyes are a shade that is more navy blue. Viscounts are an amazing shade of sky blue, and as you know, a Baronet’s eyes are seafoam green.”

“You skipped over Barons.”

“So I did, Greg, so I did. I’ll give you two other pieces of information before I tell you that, though. The first is that, while in our beast form, the eyes of the noble, be he Prince or Baronet, or any between, glow. I believe you saw this when you met Billy down in the meat locker.”

I nodded and said, “His eyes are a beautiful shade of gold, and they did have a slight glow to them. Why’s he so upset? I didn’t hear you mention gold eyes.”

“I’ll do that now, Greg. But I need to explain… no, I think Scott explained. Yes, I remember he told you how Baronets were called Alphas in our wilder times. Well, every Alpha needs a Beta, and the Beta to a Baronet is called an Esquire.”

“Like Mary’s mate?”

“Exactly. Will was my Esquire, and I miss him dearly. Anyway, the Beta to all other ranks is called a Lord Steward, though some use Steward; it’s just a personal preference of the noble. Getting back to Billy, he feels, and I strongly disagree, but he feels that he is not ready to fill the position of Lord Steward to a Baron.”

I turned to stare at Billy. He was focused on his feet, staring intently at them as if looking for warts or bugs. He gave a slight nod, so I turned back to James.

“First, I’ll tell you that Donna’s eyes in beast form match mine, as do the mate of every noble. Their eyes take on the hue of their noble mate. That said, I want Scott to shift, and then I’ll ask you to look into the eyes of your mate, Greg. What color are his?

I didn’t have to look. It was the first thing I had noticed about Scott. I remembered getting lost in his emerald green eyes and staring into them, dumbstruck. Still, I turned to stare into Scott’s eyes as I said, “They’re emerald green, James. The most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.”

“Emerald green they are, Greg. As are the eyes of every mate of every other Baron in the world.”