Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Sacrum - 32. Chapter 32: The Immortal’s War
Ciprian threw on a black leather jacket on our way out the door as he dangled the car keys in his hand like an overly excited teenager taking his dad’s car for a spin after having just passed his driver’s exam. But his annoying smile disappeared right when we got into the garage, and he took a glance at our ride for the night.
“A Honda?” he exclaimed in a disappointed tone of a petulant child, as his gaze swept over the unassuming gray car with utter dissatisfaction.
I rolled my eyes and opened the door on my side, then quickly slid into my seat, ready to get the whole thing over with. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to that much alone time with the deceased king’s brother.
“You wouldn’t know anything about being poor, would you?” he asked as he got into the driver’s seat. “Vinicius left you a small fortune I’m told. Very generous of him, considering the fact that you’re only one of his many students, don’t you think?”
“Who told you?” I asked, but he just smiled and put the key in the ignition. The dark-haired vampire then reached into the back seat and dug his hand through a pile of clothes until he fished out a navy baseball hat.
“Can’t have anyone recognize this handsome mug,” he explained when he noticed my questioning look.
I wanted to complain about him taking his sweet time picking out fashion choices for a car ride when my life was hanging on the line, but a second later he sped out of the garage and into the night so fast he might as well have been behind the wheel of a Ferrari.
“This is great. A little road trip, eh?” He said, looking over at me and grinning with pure satisfaction. “It’s like finally being out of prison after serving a 40-year sentence. I mean, that house might as well be a prison since it feels like a form of punishment to stare at those ugly yellow walls. It’s worse than a goddamn tomb. No wonder everyone is on edge.”
I wanted to point out that he seemed to be a common denominator in putting the people in the Carandini household—and elsewhere—on edge, but I decided to keep my mouth shut.
“What was it like before, the place where you lived?” I asked, curiosity getting the best of me.
“What was it like?” he repeated the question in his deep tone of voice, as he dove into his vast memory bank. “Imagine living in an opulent castle with gold, marble, and diamonds everywhere you looked. A splendid palace with 370 very spacious rooms. You could technically get lost just walking from your bedroom to the bathroom—even after living there for many years,” he chuckled at his own recollections.
He went on, “Rooms full of expensive art, soft bed sheets, servants at your beck and call, and a lot—and I mean a lot—of hot women,” he said, shooting me a wink. “A place that smelled good, not that goddamn mildewy scent back in the dump we just left. So, to answer your question, it was pure heaven, kid. Or as close as you can get to heaven on earth.”
Before I could ask another question, he turned the radio all the way up, blasting a Pearl Jam song and singing along as he drummed his hands on the steering wheel. That’s when I noticed the thin gold band on his wedding finger.
“You’re married?” I asked, shocked. For some reason the idea of him being tied to anyone else seemed inconceivable. Not that he wasn’t handsome—he was—but he just didn’t strike me as the type to settle down.
“What?” He shouted over the music, but I had a feeling he heard me just fine.
I gestured to my own finger. “Married?” I yelled out.
He glanced at the ring on his finger for a long moment. Suddenly, he turned his eyes back to the road, then quickly turned the music back down.
“Duck!”
“What?”
“Duck, kid!” he yelled. I quickly moved my head down and out of sight.
“What is it?” I asked quietly.
“Looks like a League Patrol car,” he said, pulling his cap lower on his head. “Stay down.”
We drove for a couple minutes until the road cleared and he told me it was safe to get up again.
“How did you know it was a League car?”
“Dani boy, I may have been asleep for 18 years, but things don’t change all that much through the years. Whether it’s a horse patrol or a black SUV, it’s all the same shit,” he said, making a sudden right turn. “Now listen, blondie. I will get you to Maratoni’s compound safe and sound. But first, we have to make a quick pit stop,” he said to my surprise. “Now, I’d appreciate it if you kept our little detour just between you and I. See, I don’t think your attorney would be too thrilled if he knew about it. Eddie might get himself into a tizzy over this and try to cut off my balls over it, and there’s no need for any of that right now.”
“We were supposed to go straight to the compound,” I protested, growing wary. What if Graham was right, what if it was Ciprian who tried to scare me so that Vincent could gain my full backing? He insisted that I give him an answer, and who knew if maybe he was willing to try and force it out of me tonight.
“Yeah…yeah, I know. Good thing I’m a fast driver,” he said, smiling to himself and ignoring my worried tone.
“This doesn’t seem like the best time for pit stops,” I tried to convince him, but he wouldn’t hear it.
“Jesus kid, live a little. You are immortal, after all,” he replied, then turned the music back up to tune me out.
After a short while we pulled up to a facility that looked like an abandoned warehouse. Right away my mind starting racing with unpleasant scenarios, most of them including my death or some type of painful torture.
“Let’s go,” he said.
“I’m coming?”
“Well, you don’t wanna miss all the fun, do you?” he said and got out.
He went to the back of the car then opened the trunk, searching for something. He pulled out a baseball bat and examined it.
“Good enough,” he said to himself, then smashed it on the ground so that a good half of the upper portion splintered off, leaving a nasty sharp jagged point behind. He then broke off a part of the lower half and hid the homemade stake in the sleeve of his jacket.
This was it—I thought—he was going to kill me in this abandoned warehouse. Was I ready to fight back? Would I be able to focus and use my power to fight him off? I had my doubts.
He led the way through the metal doors and the dark hallways, then down the stairs and into the basement. The sound of his footsteps echoed in the underground labyrinth, which he navigated with expert precision.
Then we reached large red doors at the end of the walkway, and I heard a muffled conversation on the other side. I opened my mouth to say something, but put his index finger up to his lips, shutting me up. Then, instead of simply opening it, he kicked it down in one swift go.
I heard startled voices coming from the inside. When the dust from the fallen door hitting the ground finally settled, I saw a dark room that almost resembled what I imagined a junkie’s quarters would look like. Dirty and with random trash littered all over the concrete ground.
The five male vampires inside stared at me with unease with their blood-red eyes, and clothes that looked like they needed a good wash. Their confused gazes turned into full-blown fear when they laid their eyes on Ciprian.
Meanwhile, he just smiled.
“Daddy’s home,” he exclaimed in a dramatic tone of voice, opening his arms in a greeting.
I was starting to pick up on the fact that Vincent’s uncle enjoyed all kind of theatrical entrances.
“Ciprian,” one of the vampires whispered, as if trying to find the right words.
“Hello friends, or should I say…fiends?” Ciprian asked, as he very slowly approached them.
“You’re alive! We must celebrate,” one of them said excitedly, yet there was an undercurrent of fear in his voice. They clearly knew him from back in the day, but it was hard to figure out the relationship between them. Were they friends, casual acquaintances?
“Yes, I am alive indeed! Now, let’s start by you giving me a proper greeting. Or have you forgotten how to behave in front of royalty?” he said in a teasing tone, slowly strolling around the room and still dangling the car keys in his hand.
Like dominoes they all obediently fell to their knees at his request, and to my surprise. All except for one. He stood to the side, defiant. His head shaved.
Ciprian’s smile widened.
“Did you injure your leg, Marco?” he asked the vampire that wouldn’t kneel.
“In case you haven’t heard, there is no royalty anymore,” he replied, giving Ciprian a look that challenged him to say otherwise.
“Is that so?”
“Yes, Romero is dead. You’re finished.”
“Do I look finished to you?” Ciprian asked, still amused.
“You’ve managed to scrape by, but you don’t scare me anymore.”
That made Ciprian erupt in a low laughter.
“Scrape by, yes. No thanks to you, of course. You, my friends, were nowhere to be found when shit went down. In fact, one of you, even helped the other side I’m told.”
“No, not one us Ciprian,” a vampire that was on his knees protested. “We’ve been faithful. We knew you were still out there. We were waiting for your return. It was Marco!” The vampire said, pointing to the one still standing.
“You lying filth,” Marco replied. “I didn’t help that bitch. But it all happened the way it happened, and I’m not going to kneel anymore. Not to you,” he said, looking back at Ciprian once again.
“Is that so?” Ciprian asked, standing inches away from his face. The other vampire winced in fear but held his own. He went on in a whisper, “Because I have a feeling that you will kneel, Marco.”
“The Carandini reign is over, give it up,” Marco replied, and before he finished the last word Ciprian’s arm flew up with the speed of lightning and the pointed wooden stake emerged from underneath his sleeve.
Before anyone could even blink, he plunged it into Marco’s heart with brute force, and the vampire folded to his knees in silent disbelief.
“See, I told you you’d kneel,” Ciprian remarked casually, then removed the stake and let go of the body, which hit the concrete floor with a thud.
I stood by in shock, as the other four kneeled with their heads down.
“You say you’ve been faithful, Spencer?” Ciprian asked the vampire who seconds ago pointed to Marco as the traitor.
“Most faithful,” the vampire managed, raising his pleading red eyes towards the dead king’s brother. Ciprian heaved a sigh.
“Stand up then, my friend. Let’s talk face to face, like the old times.”
Spencer got up on his feet slowly, shooting a wary glance at Ciprian. This is not going to be good, I thought.
“Thank you, you are most merciful,” he spoke.
“Oh I am. There is a lot of mercy in my non-beating heart, especially for my dear friends. But there is just one thing I cannot stand. Do you know what that is?” he asked Spencer in a loud voice and a smile on his face.
“Ugly women?” Spencer tried his hand at a joke.
Ciprian’s smile widened.
“Aside from ugly women, Spence.”
“No, what is it?”
Ciprian cast his eyes over everyone in the room, before returning his gaze to Spencer’s pale face.
“A bad liar. Now a person like that…well, they just tickle me in a completely wrong way! Their lies awaken a type of uncivilized Neanderthal anger in me that I then must…release.”
“I didn’t…I didn’t lie,” Spencer stammered out. “We’re friends, Ciprian. We’ve always been friends. I’ve supported you through everything.”
Ciprian nodded as if he was considering the plea.
“You haven’t helped my nephew for the past 18 years, Spencer. You haven’t checked in on his mother, not even once. You abandoned the ship that you helped sink.”
“No, no, that’s not true. I didn’t…”
“You didn’t what?”
“I didn’t betray you, I didn’t.”
“See, you’re doing it again,” Ciprian said in a calm tone.
“What?”
“Lying,” he replied, then once again drove the stake in his hand through a vampire’s heart. “I told you, I hate liars.”
The room was eerily silent after that. Before I could say anything, he spoke again.
“Cut their heads off after we leave, make sure the job is done,” he said to the remaining three. “If I see either one of them alive, I’ll kill all of you. What can I say, I’m in a merciful mood today,” he said in a calm tone, casually wiping the stake with a handkerchief he fished out from the pocket of his leather jacket as he stepped over Spencer’s still body in his black boots. “Though you’ve displayed extreme cowardice, I believe that after today you will remember whose side you’re on. And you will pass word to our other friends, and let them know that a new Kingdom is on the way. And going forward, you’re either with us, or against us.”
Then, without another word, he headed for the door, and I quickly followed.
“What the hell,” I finally managed to stammer out weakly by the time we got to the car.
“Good show, eh? Told you, you wouldn’t wanna miss it,” he said getting in. Graham was right, Ciprian was a maniac. The killing type.
“Why did you…why did you kill them?”
“Some people deserve to die,” he said, in a nonchalant tone.
“You don’t get to decide that,” I argued, still in shock at how fast it all happened. He raised his eyebrows.
“I just did.”
“What is wrong with you? You can’t just…go around killing others for the thrill of it.”
“This? This was nothing,” he replied, throwing the murder weapon in the back of the car, like he didn’t just use it to kill two vampires. “Get ready kid, we’re headed for a war between the immortals, and it’s about to get a whole lot uglier.”
There was one question I still had to ask.
“Was it you?”
“Elaborate,” he said, smiling.
“Did you have someone attempt to kill me to get me to side with Vincent?” I asked. His smile grew wider, exposing his pearly whites.
“Really, kid? After what you just witnessed, do I seem like someone that would botch an assassination attempt?”
“It wasn’t botched if the purpose was to scare me.”
“Scare you?” he repeated, amused. Then suddenly his face grew serious, and if I had a heartbeat, it would have been drumming loudly in my chest because the look in his eye was frightening. “Kid, you look like you’re scared of your own damn shadow. You think I’d waste resources to put on an elaborate plan when I could achieve the same result by having a little face-to-face with you?”
He moved his body towards me, and I immediately regretted ever getting into the car with him. “You’re scared now, and you should be. If you end up on the wrong side of this, things will end very badly for you.”
“Or they may end up badly for you,” I replied, before I could stop myself. For a brief moment I thought the comment would enrage him, but he just chuckled.
“Threats don’t suit you, blondie,” he replied and started the car up again, speeding into the night.
The road flashed by us in the windows and when he couldn’t find anything good on the radio, he began whistling to some unknown tune.
“You’re not one to enjoy silence, are you?” I asked, surprised at my own sarcasm.
“I’ve enjoyed silence for the last 18 years and let me tell you, it is overrated.”
“Where’s your wife?” I asked, getting back to the subject that interested me. If I was stuck next to a killer, I might as well get some answers, I thought.
He glanced over in my direction, as if deciding whether he should answer.
“She’s where most of the people I’ve ever loved ended up—dead.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, suddenly feeling like my line of questioning was a bit insensitive—even if he was a psychopath. However, I couldn’t help but want to know more.
“Did it happen during the War of the Clans?”
“No, it happened many years before that,” he stated.
“How?” I asked, knowing I was pressing my luck. But it was highly unusual for a vampire to simply just die. Unless they encountered someone like Ciprian…
“How? I’m sure Vinicius taught you that it isn’t polite to run around and ask people how their wives died,” he replied, but he didn’t seem angry with the question.
“I’m sorry, it’s just…I’ve never heard of a vampire dying aside from those who’ve committed crimes and were executed, or those who have been killed by others,” I stated, the image of him stabbing the two vampires flashing through my mind.
“She didn’t commit any crime. And she wasn’t killed by anyone,” he replied.
“Well then how did she—”
“She killed herself.”
The unexpected answer stunned me into silence. It was so unusual to hear of vampire suicide. I actually never heard of any other immortal taking their life—except for when they told me of Vinicius’ death. A lie in which I didn’t believe anymore, of course.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”
“You asked a question, I answered. Nothing to be sorry for.”
“You still wear your wedding ring,” I commented.
“Good magnet for the ladies. They love a married man,” he joked, but I sensed it was a deflection. He wasn’t wearing the ring as a prop—it meant something to him.
It was a useful piece of new knowledge. The frightening monster I just witnessed kill two others did have a tiny piece of soul, after all. He was capable of loving someone else other than himself, it seemed. It wasn’t much, but it was a revelation that could help me in the future, I thought.
After another 15 minutes we finally drove up to a high-security gated compound. Ciprian escorted me inside where I was almost relieved to see my loathsome mentor, Sebastiano Maratoni.
“Running late Ciprian,” he commented.
The vampire didn’t bother making up excuses.
“Call dear old Eddie before he spazzes out and sends his private goons on me,” he stated, handing me a cell phone. I quickly let Graham know I was safe and sound, though I omitted mentioning the terrifying detour.
“Where’s our Russian friend?” Ciprian asked Maratoni.
“He’ll be back soon. He’s helping my tech guy add some extra security on the main road to make sure we’re aware if there are any unwanted visitors heading our way.”
“Excellent. Well, I leave you in Sebastiano’s capable hands, kid. To be continued,” he said, shooting a smile my way.
“Are you sure it’s safe for you to leave, you’re free to stay the night,” Maratoni offered in a kind tone I’d never heard him use before. The little royal suck-up, I thought.
“Nah, I gotta get back. Take care of our Golden Boy here,” he said referring to me. Then he walked out.
The second he left, Maratoni was back to his surly self.
“You get the smallest room, and I don’t want to hear any complaints,” he said, as he started walking. “I hope you won’t have to stay too long,” he said, as if I was an inconvenience to him.
“That makes two of us,” I snapped back.
“Be grateful someone is willing to take you in,” he replied.
“Willing?” I said, feeling the fury within me rise. “Let’s get things straight, you better hope I decide to stay here. Because if I don’t, Vincent and Ciprian are not going to be very happy with you, since they just spent the last couple hours trying to convince me to work with them.” Maratoni snickered.
“I think they may be slightly overestimating your abilities.”
“I think you may be slightly underestimating them,” I replied, suddenly reminding myself of Ciprian. But it worked, Maratoni finally shut up and took me back to my cramped room, which was even smaller than my school dormitory.
“This is the size of a broom closet,” I complained.
“All the other rooms are taken,” he replied without any empathy. I decided not to argue. It’s not like I wanted to stay here long anyway.
I shut the door behind him and sat down on the bed. Now that I was finally alone, I needed to clear my thoughts and figure out my next steps.
Stick with Vincent and fight Deadnus? Go back to school and face whatever would happen? What else was there, I wondered.
I felt alone and afraid in this brand-new world that I was still learning to navigate. And then I thought of Neo, somewhere out there all alone as well. Waiting for his execution, and the thought tore at my heart. That’s if he was still even alive.
The path continued to be so unclear. I thought back to my dream with Vinicius. Even though Vincent and his family were going into this with their own agenda, I could serve as a sounding board to steer them in the right direction, I thought. Maybe that’s what Vinicius actually created me for.
But could someone like Ciprian ever take advice that didn’t align with his own beliefs? And if it came down to my word and his uncle’s, who would Vincent choose?
I wrestled with my thoughts for another hour until I heard a light tapping on my door.
“Come in,” I replied after a beat.
When the door opened, I was relieved to see Demetrius on the other side. Looking at his face filled me with some sort of comfort, despite how we left things off last time.
“Come on, you’re not staying here,” he said in his efficient manner without so much as a greeting.
“You’re already kicking me out?” I joked, figuring he was transferring me to another room.
“You can stay with me,” he offered. “There’s a lot more space.”
“I don’t know,” I hesitated. “You didn’t seem all that thrilled to see me the last time. If you’re doing this because you feel obligated—”
“Just stop overthinking for once in your life,” he stated, cutting me off. “Come on.”
“Fine,” I replied, annoyed that he was always talking to me like I was a needy child.
I followed the handsome-yet-irritating Russian to his room, which was a lot bigger and nicer than the closet Maratoni stuffed me in.
It was spare in its belongings, aside from a couple pieces of furniture, some books, and a well-worn basketball in the corner of the room.
“I won’t be here tonight, I have to be on patrol, so you can sleep in my bed,” he said when he noticed me looking at it.
“Patrol?”
“Yeah, just keeping an eye out on the perimeter, make sure nothing funny is going on out there. Gotta keep you safe.”
“Please, do not do it just for me,” I started to plead, once again remembering that a security officer had just lost his life because of me.
“Dani, I really don’t have the patience for your self-pity tonight. It’s been a long couple of weeks,” he said in a serious tone. “You’re here now, and it’s my job to protect you. So spare us both the useless argument, please.”
“Fine,” I said, yet again. Why was he always in such a bad mood? I sat down at the medium-size table he had close to his window, which had a chess board on it.
“I know I was harsh last time. I just…haven’t been sleeping well,” he confessed, trying to sound somewhat nicer.
“It’s fine,” I replied shortly, still hurt by his treatment.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he continued, trying to spark a conversation.
“Thanks, it’s been a couple of hard weeks for me as well,” I replied.
“I know. I wasn’t trying to minimize your struggles,” he explained, and I felt my walls come down as my body relaxed.
“So…you’re on their side,” I said, trying to figure out Demetrius’ thoughts on the whole thing. “You think Vincent is making the right choice trying to start a war with the State and you’re going to help him, or are you just following Maratoni’s orders?”
“I’m on your side, Dani,” he said, looking at me. “Whatever you decide to do, that’s where my allegiance lies.”
That was a surprise to me, and it clearly showed in my face. He continued, “You’re a Special—the most important one of us all, actually. Start acting like it. You do not allow others to put you in broom closets or force you to make decisions that work in their best interest. Vinicius created you to make your own choices, Dani, so start doing it.” I sighed. He was always slapping me with doses of uncomfortable reality.
“I don’t feel like I have enough experience for making decisions. You and Vincent and everyone else around me seem like you know what you’re doing. Like you’re so sure of it. For me…it feels like I’m stumbling around in the dark sometimes. I don’t know what decision is the right one.”
“Knowing whether your choice is right is a luxury. Sometimes you don’t get to know until you actually make it.”
“There’s a lot at stake if I make the wrong one,” I replied.
“The consequences of not making a choice could be just as grave as making the wrong one,” he said. He was right.
“Where’s Neo?” he asked, changing the subject. I filled him in on my—or technically his—dog’s whereabouts while trying to keep my voice steady. The pain of losing him still stung, and my heart ached at his memory.
Demetrius’ face was difficult to read, as always.
“That’s a shame,” he said after a while, and I could hear the sincerity in his voice. “He was a good dog.”
“He still is. We don’t know that he’s gone yet,” I said with more force than I intended. He studied my face for a moment.
“Listen, I have to go. There’s a shower across the hall if you need it. Feel free to borrow any of my books.”
“Why can’t I come with you?” I asked.
“That would sort of defeat the whole purpose of trying to keep you safe here,” he replied.
“Two Specials are better than one, no?” I said, not wanting to be alone. He thought about it for a moment.
“Get some rest, I’ll check on you when I’m back,” he said, then left.
After checking out a few books on the shelves, I decided to give my brain some rest. Maybe a couple hours of sleep would help me figure things out.
The second I closed my eyes, I could see them together in bed.
Dahlia and Romero. Their naked bodies so intertwined they almost looked like one entity.
They gazed into each other’s eyes, as she stroked the handsome king’s face.
“I’ve been thinking about something, my love,” she said, her big blue eyes gazing at him as if he were the only man on Earth.
“Tell me,” he encouraged her, placing a gentle kiss on her lips.
“There’s something I really want,” she began.
“Just tell me what it is and it’s yours, darling,” he replied. “Diamonds? Rubies? Gowns? A palace in France?”
“A baby,” she replied in a whisper.
I woke up with a start.
The revelation burned through my head. It all fell into place. There was an illegitimate Carandini heir still alive. A descendent of Dahlia and Romero—potentially threatening Vincent’s place as king.
That’s why Princess Alessandra was so aghast when she saw me. She was worried it was me—that I was the illegitimate son. But why me, I wondered? The idea was ludicrous of course, but her and Ciprian’s behavior made sense now.
Then another thought struck me, absolutely wiping out the conclusion I just came to. Like the Princess told Ciprian, it was impossible. She was right—scientifically speaking.
Dahlia was a human. Romero was a vampire. The two couldn’t have children. The venom inside vampire semen made it impossible for fertilization to occur.
Once again, I was missing something. I thought about it more. Vinicius was the one who invented the method that allowed procreation between vampires to happen. It wasn’t too unfeasible that he could have helped to make it happen between a human and a vampire as well. From what I’d learned, he knew both Romero and Dahlia. What if she had asked him to assist her?
Yes, it all made sense now. I was Vinicius’ creation, that’s why the Princess and Ciprian thought it had to be me. But they were mistaken, of course. However, their confusion was good for me because it bought me time to find the other Carandini offspring and warn him or her.
I had to protect them from Ciprian, who would no doubt drive a stake through their heart without missing a beat. I remembered Arcadius Nomad’s words to Vinicius, “You’ve always given them too much credit, Vinicius. Even after what they did to Dahlia,” as well as his words about the world being better off with Ciprian gone.
I knew my mission now. It wasn’t to chase assassins and try to exact revenge for those already gone. It was to protect the living. It was to safeguard Vincent’s secret sibling. It was to preserve the living fruit of Dahlia and Romero’s love—their child.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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