Draco watched the woman from the dark. She sat at a desk, examining various vials, each one containing a liquid of a different color. Every so often she would pick one up, study it closely, then write something in a journal with her quill. Then she would place the vial to the side on a rack, and pick up another.
Beneath the sound of clinking vials and the scratch of pen to paper, Draco could hear the pulsing of her blood in her veins. To the vampire lord, it was pure music, a symphony that made his mouth water. He was confident that her blood tasted wonderful. The witch was already a desirable creature by all accounts. Her hair shined in the torchlight of the room, cascading in a curtain of snowy white to her waist. Her figure was lovely, her cheeks rosy, and gazing upon her caused a longing to slither through Draco’s chest, one that went beyond mere blood lust.
“Are you going to linger there all night?” the woman asked, not taking her eyes from the light magenta vial that she was examining. “I don’t like you standing around thirsting after me.”
Draco was surprised. He had underestimated the witch’s senses.
The vampire stepped into the torchlight, his gold eyes glimmering. “Apologies, Analadu. I was just checking in on your work.”
The witch did not look at him. “And you take to hiding in the shadows while I work?”
Draco scowled at her tone. “This is my castle—I do as I see fit.”
“Of course.” Analadu put the vial on the rack next to her. “Thank you again for access to your laboratory. It has been most helpful in my work.”
“Yes, I would hope so.” Draco drifted to one of the many shelves that were in the room. He toyed with a golden device—a small, metal ball that hung from a bit of wire. He had still not deduced what the dwarven tool was used for, but he liked to collect such things. “How is your progress?” he asked.
“Little,” Analadu answered. “But still progress. The sample you gave me…it’s quite remarkable. It’s unlike anything I’ve seen before.”
Draco quirked an eyebrow. “This I knew. That’s why I sought your services.”
“I’m not finished. There are traces in the blood…magical traces. Definitely not Abyssal…something akin to the Old Magic…but still different.” At last, she turned and looked at the vampire lord. “Where did you find this again?”
“That’s not your concern,” Draco said with a wave of his hand. In truth, he was not the one who had found the vial of blood. That was Tuone’s doing, his best ranger. He had found it among two dead members of their coven, miles from the castle. The oddity of the situation disturbed him—two vampires decapitated and a vial of red blood, untouched and containing magic. Truly an enigma.
The witch stared at the vampire for a long moment, her amber eyes unblinking. “If I knew its origin, then perhaps I could better help you, Lord Draco.”
Draco smiled. “Its origin is unknown, Analadu. I just want you to tell me what you can discover about it.”
Analadu pursed her lips in thought. They were very red, and Draco felt an urge spark through his veins. Her blood still sounded with a tantalizing rhythm, blood that he wanted dearly.
“I find it interesting that you sought the services of a human witch in order to solve this conundrum.”
Draco smiled back, not bothering to hide his fangs. “You are one of the most skilled individuals when it comes to Abyssal Magic.”
“That’s the problem, however—this isn’t Abyssal Magic. And it’s beyond Old Magic. I’m not sure what it is.” Analadu gave a defeated sigh. “I don’t have any answers at the present.”
Draco opened his mouth but paused as a voice entered his head. Lord Draco.
It was Gothra using a sending spell. He replied to the vampire warlock through his mind. What is it?
Three of our subjects…in the forests…they’re all dead. Decapitated like Vona and Elthai.
Shock shot through Draco, but it was quickly replaced by anger. Three? Who killed them?
We…we do not know, my Lord. Tuote has a scouting party searching.
“Bah!” Draco reached out and grabbed a glass bottle from a nearby shelf and threw it to the floor. Analadu jumped as shards of glass scattered across the laboratory. His last search party found nothing! I will search for this vagabond myself!
My lord, I—
Silence! Draco cut the mental link then looked at Analadu. She stared at him with wide eyes, her lips slightly parted. Her pulse was beating faster. The call of her blood was stronger…louder…
He turned away. “My apologies,” he said. “There is a matter I must attend to immediately.”
The vampire went to the window of the laboratory. Opening the window into the dark night, he stepped onto the ledge, his eyes glowing brightly.
He leaped and vanished into the night.
***
Shadows wrapped around Draco like tendrils of water and carried him to the dark pines of the forest. The wind whipped his sandy hair about his face wildly as he sailed through the night air like a cloud, anger coursing through his body. Three! Three dead. How many more coven members would die under his watch? What kind of lord was he that he could not guard his own lands from an intruder, and what intruder was brave or foolish enough to tangle with the coven of Spiderhollow?
Draco intended to find out.
Through the veil of thick branches, Draco’s predatory eyes made out the faint silver outlines of several vampires. Draco descended, passing easily through the branches with not so much as a whisper. He saw Gothra, bald and sharp-nosed, and Tuote, sable-haired and thin, standing with several Spiderhollow rangers. They were gathered around the corpses. The vampires all looked up at their lord’s approach and bowed their heads low as Draco’s boots stepped onto a carpet of pine needles. The shadows slipped off Draco, slithering into the darkness of the trees.
Draco fixed his subordinates with a fierce gaze. “Let me see them.”
Gothra and Tuote parted, their black cloaks falling away to reveal the corpses. A male, Daiados, and two women, Kathara and Yelna. All three of their heads had been severed from their necks, just as Gothra had reported.
Draco clenched his fists, looking down on his fallen brother and sisters. “Who did this?” he growled.
Tuote cleared his throat. “Given the tracks we found, they were ambushed. There wasn’t even a struggle. Whoever killed them took them out swiftly, before they could even react.”
Gothra spat. “ This is ridiculous. Even an elf doesn’t have the speed to match us, and if the individual was aided by magic, Yelna was such a skilled witch she could have countered it. What’s more, what fool would dare come so close to Spiderhollow? It doesn’t make sense.”
Tuote glared at the warlock. “You’re right, it doesn’t. That’s why my scouts and I intend to find out who did this.”
A wicked smile curved at Gothra’s lips. “Yes, because you and your rangers have yielded such fine results already.”
Tuote’s rangers stirred irritably, their eyes flashing glares at the warlock. Tuote calmed them with a quick look then looked back at Gothra. “If you are unsatisfied with my results, Gothra, then why don’t you deduce who did this with your spells?”
Gothra opened his mouth to retort but he was cut off by Draco. “Enough. All of you, return to the castle. I’ll handle this.”
Tuote started. “But my Lord Draco—"
“I will handle this,” Draco repeated. “Return now. I command it.”
Tuote looked at Gothra, who looked as taken aback as he was. After a brief pause, Tutoe bowed his head. “As you wish.”
One by one, each of the vampires vanished into the dark, until Draco remained. He continued to stare down at the corpses of his three subjects. After a long moment, he turned his eyes, shining like golden fires in the night, to the darkness of the trees. A wind blew over him, carrying the smallest hint of a familiar scent, a scent that only he of all the vampires of his coven would have been able to catch. The scent of the killer.
“So,” he whispered. “You have returned.”
***
A light rain began to fall as Draco scoured the trees. Yes. He could smell his blood. It was only a small amount, perhaps from a nick made by a thorn or tree branch—only an elder vampire such as himself would have been able to catch it. But Draco was able to trace it, and now he was on the murderer’s trail.
The scent led him a few miles from the bodies. Draco kept in hot pursuit of the scent, and with each footstep, he came closer to it. The murderer wasn’t moving. Perhaps he was waiting for Draco. Perhaps the little worm wanted to cut the head off the snake. Draco’s lips curled. He certainly hoped that the intruder would try.
His eyes rove the shadows, the deep, dark spaces in between the trees. His vision could not perceive any red outlines. He only saw the violet aura of small animals that hid at his approach. But the scent…it was stronger, and Draco knew that he was nearby.
“You have grown skilled in your mortality,” Draco said to the trees around him. “Such a wonder. You lacked so much skill when you were a boy. Nothing like your father.”
The rain pattered on the treetops. A bird fluttered to a branch more than thirty yards away. A lizard slipped under some debris.
Then a tingle crept up Draco’s spine. The breath of a whisper skittered at his ear, one the vampire had not been expecting.
“I killed my father. It’s a poor comparison.”
Steel hissed as Draco willed shadows to carry from where he stood. A sword blade, the glinting of its steel offensive to Draco’s eyes, cut through the air where he had been less than a second previously. Draco stepped back, brandishing his fangs in a vicious snarl at the figure before him.
Like all humans, the man was outlined in a red aura. His face was covered with stubble. Blond hair, darker than Draco remembered, hung to his shoulders. The man’s body possessed a gauntness that it had never had when it was immortal, and his blue eyes were shadowed by deep circles as if he had never slept. His sword awed Draco. A black rose was engraved in the cross guard, and in the pommel glittered two jewels: one black, the other blue. The sword felt familiar to the vampire somehow.
“Veran,” Draco muttered.
“Hello, Uncle,” the man replied.
“It’s been a long time.” He eyed his nephew up and down. “You look horrible.”
Veran didn’t reply. The two men stared at each other for a long time. Something was amiss, Draco knew. He had not detected Veran’s presence at all, despite tracking his scent. And that sword. It unnerved Draco. Without a doubt in his mind, the vampire lord knew that his nephew had become more powerful.
“So you are the one who has slaughtered so many of my followers?” Draco said, gauging the youth. “Don’t you feel the slightest bit of remorse for murdering your kin?”
Veran gave a sardonic smirk. “Murder? My kin? I forgot your sense of humor. But know this: I am no longer a monster like you, Draco Victus.”
Draco smiled grimly. “I suppose you’re right. Now you’re just fodder for me to dine on.”
Quicker than the breath of a shadow, Draco was upon Veran, his jaws wide, his fangs glistening. “Let me redeem you with your death, dear nephew!” He went to bite into Veran’s neck.
But all he got was a mouthful of steel.
Draco gasped. He didn’t even see Veran bring up the sword. Draco had snapped over the sword like a dog taking up a stick. Veran was holding him back, his blue eyes boring into Draco. Draco shuddered as he felt his own blood gush from his mouth and trail down his chin.
“It won’t be that easy, Uncle,” Veran said.
Draco opened his mouth and leaped back before Veran could slice the top half of his head off. Fortunately for Draco, his jaws were as solid and sharp as any steel. Still, he had sustained a wound to his gums, and he spat out black blood as he landed.
How can he be so quick? Draco thought. No wonder the others were killed so easily. He’s mortal now, but he’s still as fast as any vampire, if not faster.
Veran lowered his sword. “I’m not here to fight you, Uncle,” Veran said. “I’m here to offer you a choice.” Veran held up a vial of red blood, identical to the one that Tuote had found and that Analadu had been studying.
Draco stiffened. “What is that?”
Veran’s face was somber. “Your redemption, if you choose. Drink this, and your curse can be lifted, just as mine was.”
Draco stared at his nephew incredulously, and then he smiled. “What is your plan, Veran? Are you going to try and make me weak like you?” The vampire lord laughed. “You may as well kill me like you killed your father.”
No hint of emotion came over Veran’s face. “I wish I could have given my father this choice. But I can’t. However, I can offer it to you, Draco. You can be free. There is more to experience under the light of the sun than can be realized when you wallow about in the dark.”
This time Draco tilted his head back when he laughed, its booming cadence echoing through the trees. “Fool! I have no desire to be like you. You forget how old I am. I have wandered under the sun, and there is nothing under its gaze that can’t be found in the night. All light succumbs to the dark. Don’t you realize this? You betrayed your entire race, and you heighten your shame by trying to bring more of us into your delusion.” He spat. “You sicken me.”
Veran opened his mouth, but paused, cocking his head as if he heard something. Draco heard it as well. Someone was coming towards them.
Veran looked into the trees, then back to Draco. “Very well, Uncle. Remain stuck in your curse.” He pocketed the vial. “However, the next time we meet, it will be the last.”
Veran muttered something incoherent, and before Draco’s eyes, his nephew vanished. He whirled about trying to find a trace of him, but he saw no red outline, and he could no longer smell his blood.
Just then Tuone emerged from the trees, his bow in hand.
“Lord Draco! You’re hurt!”
Draco glared at the ranger. “Why did you follow me?”
Tuone avoided looking directly at his master’s eyes. “I…I’m sorry, my lord. But I couldn’t in good conscious not follow you. I tailed you from far behind, but I came to your side as soon as I caught the life aura of a human next to yours.” He paused. “Where is he? Was it the murderer?”
Draco said nothing but looked back to the trees. In truth, it was better that Tuone had arrived. If the ranger hadn’t, he was sure that he and Veran would have fought…and if they had, Draco wasn’t sure he would have won.
Draco stared at the darkness of the forest. What have you become? he thought.
***
Analadu furrowed her brow in consternation. The blood…its secrets evaded her. She looked at all her mixtures, all the solutions made from samples of the blood that Draco had provided for her, and none of them yielded conclusive results. She needed more information…but where could she get it?
Just then, the door burst open. The witch stood from the table to see Draco storm in, his cloak flapping about him like a swath of shadow. Her eyes widened at the blackened blood on his face, the dangerous light in his golden eyes.
“What happened?” she asked as he walked towards her.
The vampire did not answer. Instead, he grabbed the witch by the shoulders and opened his mouth. Analadu let out a sharp gasp as his fangs pierced her neck. She froze in his grip, the room spinning around her.
He took a long draught, then paused to whisper five words.
“I will not be denied.”
Analadu shuddered as his fangs sank back into her. Her limbs went slack, and her world darkened.
And right from the first word, just by virtue of the fact you've got a vampire named Draco, I'm thinking of that hilariously awful goth Harry Potter fanfic, "My Immortal" lmao
Don't worry, I'll give this a genuine read and put the thoughts of being gpffik and those stupid fuckin preps out of my mind, but it was too funny an intrusive thought not to share.