The blonde waif was waning. In fact, this might be the last time that she was able to serve as a reserva de sange. It was a pity, too, because not only was she somewhat attractive, despite having wallowed in filth these past several months, her blood was rich and sweet. It had a certain quality to it that was difficult to find, and when the locals had dragged her in, Giovani had been pleasantly surprised at their good fortune. If this feeding killed her, however, he would have to resort back to one of the others, and none of them had satisfied his craving the same way as the dirty blonde. Of course, they would have to replace her, and there was always a chance they could get lucky again and pluck an equally delectable sample off the street, but it wasn’t likely; specimens such as this came along only once in a decade, if one were lucky.
He released her, letting her head sway back against the dingy dungeon wall, her chains rattling as he did so, fairly certain no amount of food or beverage would restore her this time, and as he licked the last few drops of blood off of his mouth, he crossed over to where Zabrina sat in an upright chair looking uncomfortable and bored. “I think that’s the last of her,” he muttered as he sat down next to her.
“It’s just as well,” she replied, stretching her back. “The longer she lasts, the longer you’ll be tempted to stay in this dank prison.”
“We are not prisoners here,” he reminded her, grabbing her arm a bit too roughly. “We can come and go as we please. These people, they do what I say. They’ll take care of us indefinitely.”
Zabrina sighed, clearly not wanting to start yet another argument. Another Vampire, older and hunkered with age, entered the room and crossed to where the reserva de sange were chained against the wall. Zabrina had never heard of anything like this before--keeping people as captives so that they could serve to feed Vampires without hunting them down night after night. The people were drained slowly and kept until they began to Resurrect as Vampires or to die. In-between feedings, they were given sustenance, an opportunity to replenish their own blood supply so that they could feed the Vampires for weeks, possibly months, before they finally succumbed to their injuries. Otherwise, the Vampires would eventually destroy them; they could never be loyal followers after having undergone these nightmarish living conditions.
The older Vampire glanced across the room at the couple as he checked the status of the blonde woman and the dark-haired man Zabrina had finished with only moments sooner. He was dressed in a long, velvety burgundy cloak, as many Vampires tended to wear here in the ancient countries, at least when they were not out and about amongst the living. Despite his best efforts, it was obvious he was eavesdropping, and Zabrina was content to change the subject; unfortunately, her boyfriend was not.
“Listen, Zabrina, give me a few months; let me figure this out. There’s got to be a way that I can track down Cadence and get rid of her once and for all.” He was clearly frustrated, not just at her, but at the world, and he pushed himself back into his chair, slamming up against the straight back loudly.
Taking a deep breath, Zabrina formulated a response. “I just wish you would have waited...” she began, but was promptly interrupted.
“Waited for what? The only way we were getting out of the Amazon was during a time when they were distracted. And it worked, didn’t it?”
“Oh, it worked,” she replied, finally losing her cool. “Now, instead of being in a beautiful rainforest, we’re here--in this miserable hovel--just waiting for LIGHTS to make another mistake so you can go out and get yourself killed.”
“I’m not going to get myself killed!” Giovani retorted angrily. “That’s why I’m being cautious! That’s why I’m resorting to these… feeder people instead of going out and getting my own kills.”
Zabrina was shaking her head adamantly. “So, you left the rainforest? So what? You aren’t even on the same continent as Cadence Findley now. What are you going to do from here?”
As Giovani began to spit out an answer, their audience member approached, cautiously. “Sire,” he said, his voice raspy. “I may have a suggestion.”
Gray eyes wide with shock at the other man’s audacity, Giovani only stared in response.
The other man cleared his throat. “Sire, are you familiar with the legend of Daunator?” He bowed his head, his hood covering much of his facial features, and waited patiently for an answer. Though he had dwelled in these parts far longer than this new Vampire, as soon as Giovani had arrived in Cesky Krumlov, it was apparent that he was no ordinary Vampire. He was a direct descendant of the ancient Vampire, Holland, one of the few remaining, and this clan immediately took him in, willing to provide him with whatever he needed in order to rebuild his forces and flourish.
Giovani glanced at Zabrina out of the corner of his eye. She simply looked bored again. “Remind me of your name,” he insisted.
“I am Nelo,” the man replied, bowing his head even lower. Then, he added, “Your servant, sire.”
“Yes, of course,” Giovani replied, only half succeeding in preventing an eye roll. “You must know I am not from these parts. Who is this Daunator you speak of, and what could he possibly do for me?”
Nelo raised his head slightly and looked Giovani in the eye. “Sire, Daunator is also of ancient stock, much like your mother, Holland. He lives in the forest near the village of Klet. He rarely allows an audience with anyone, but for you, he may make an exception. He has dwelt here many thousand years. Perhaps, he could be of assistance with your dilemma.”
Giovani felt his rage begin to boil again. “And exactly what do you know of my dilemma?” he asked tossing his head back.
Dropping his head again, Nelo replied, “Very little, sire. I only know that you came here under cover of darkness, that you wish to be kept secreted away for now, but that a fire burns in your loins--that you seek to destroy the one who would destroy you, the one who claimed your mother and so many from your clan.” His head raised now, and he dared to look Giovani in the eye. “Perhaps, the great Daunator could be of assistance. He knows much. He is wise and powerful.”
Another quick glance at Zabrina garnished nothing; she still looked uninterested. Giovani’s anger began to fester toward her and her incessant need to always get her way. Shaking his head in disbelief at her indifference, he returned his attention to the servant. “And do you know how I can locate this Daunator?”
Nelo hesitated, shrugging his shoulders. “Not exactly, sire. I can point you in the right direction, but legend says, if Daunator wants to speak to you, he shall find you. You must only make yourself… available.”
Zabrina was eyeing the servant now, evidence to Giovani that she felt threatened by the proposition. Feeling a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, he turned back to Nelo. “Thank you. That will be all.”
There was a split second of hesitancy, as if he were considering adding more, before Nelo bowed and excused himself out of the room.
As soon as he was gone, the fire in Zabrina’s eyes began to burn holes through Giovani’s skull. “You can’t be serious!” she exclaimed. “What in the world could you possibly gain by going out into the world, looking for some ancient Vampire who likely doesn’t even exist?”
“What can I gain?” Giovani repeated. “Why, everything, of course! Zabrina, this could be our chance to find a way to defeat Cadence once and for all.”
“It’s also an opportunity to be found-out and destroyed,” she reminded him. “There are Hunters and Guardians out there looking for us, you realize? Even here--even in Ceska.”
“Zabrina, please,” he began. “They’ve got nothing. No one here will be able to track me down. I’ll go during the daytime. They’ll never be expecting that. If you don’t want to go, don’t go.”
“I don’t want to go!”
“Then don’t go!”
“I won’t!”
“Fine,” he replied, leaning hard on the armrest opposite where she sat.
She crossed her arms, her lips pouty. She shot him a glare out of the corner of her eye, but refused to continue the discussion. She meant it this time; he would have to embark on this scheme without her.
After a few moments of silence, he said calmly, “We’ll leave in the morning.”
“Fine,” she replied. “If you’re going to get yourself killed, I may as well die with you.”
He smiled; she always did as she was told--always.
