Orcus hailed from a time when vampires were picky with their blood curse. He would have had to be a similar vintage to Alistair, if not older, and was just as beautiful. That was where the similarities ended. Alistair was honeyed darkness, black of hair and eye with a warm, rich, deceptively human hue to his skin. Orcus was undoubtedly Reman, broad and golden with a defined jaw and a thick air of superiority to him. When he smiled, it never came close to reaching his eyes.
“To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”
Six did not answer him immediately. Instead she parked her ass against the corner of his desk, casual as could be, and started rolling up a sleeve. I had wondered, when we had first left the House, why she was without her bandages. There were slices on her arms that still looked raw, angry puckered skin held together with thick black stitches. Pushing one sleeve up to her elbow, Six paused, stretching out her arm and wiggling her fingers experimentally. She seemed focused on the tips on her fingers, momentarily absent-minded.
“How many bloodlines call Aquis home these days?”
Orcus regarded her with half-lidded eyes, in no hurry to form a response. It was a question that I myself could not have answered. Vampires tended to fall into families, or bloodlines. Those families usually had distinct skills that were unique to them, though usually only the oldest and most powerful of their own could actively use them. In any one place, there could be as few as one, or as many as fifty.
“Including yours? Four.” The old vampire purred, resting his chain against interlocking fingers. “But then I feel that you already knew that.”
Six smiled at him, finally lifting her eyes from her own hands.
“Just checking.”
Orcus inclined his head in acknowledgement.
“And all their progenitors live within the city?”
“At this time, yes. Two lines that petitioned to join us, and Alistair.”
Alistair seemed to stiffen slightly beside me. It was hard to tell though, as he tended not to move much at all at the best of times. I knew from Annie that Alistair was the last of his line, descending from a family that was all but wiped out by a rival blood cursed clan. He must have been the head of that line - something that this Orcus seemed to confirm - otherwise he would have perished. The head of each family - their progenitor - was particularly important to those that carried a blood curse. The phrase “cut the head off the snake” was never so apt to describe a group. Kill the progenitor, and the whole line would crumble. Every vampire was dependent on the curse of their maker, to ensure their continued existence. It was unheard of for a vampire to outlive the one that made them. Obviously, this was a sore point for our resident vampire.
“You lot have some funny powers these days, don’t you? Very modern.” Six continued.
Suddenly it felt much harder to breathe, like the air itself was made from honey, thick and viscous. Nothing had changed, outwardly at least. Orcus never so much as batted an eyelid. Something twisted in the pit of my stomach, a sudden surge of forced arousal that quickened my breath while making me feel physically ill. All the vampires in the room seemed a little more focused, a little more hungry. Orcus chuckled, his voice a deep purr, and I had the unbidden urge to crawl into his lap. From where I stood, swaying a little beside Alistair, I could see Six’s ears pinken. She leaned forwards towards the vampire, smile broadening, even though I could see the death grip her hands had on the desk beneath her.
“Neat party trick.” Her voice was a small, dangerous whisper. She almost sounded husky. “However, not the one I’m looking for.”
Orcus’ eyes seemed to sparkle as he too leaned forward with a lazy, dangerous smile.
“What makes you think that you will find your...party trick here?”
Six’s nose scrunched and she let her head tip towards one shoulder. It was a whimsical sort of movement that seemed out of place given the uncomfortably sexual tension in the room. Without her usual prickly exterior, her size and demeanor made her almost cute.
“Call it a hunch.”
I was so busy watching Six and Orcus try to smile holes through each other that I barely notice the creature that ghosted up beside me. It was only when I felt a gaze on me that I turned, startled, to meet the scrutiny of an incredibly slender vampire with massive, dark eyes. A spidery sort of smile crawled across the creature’s face.
“Our little death keeps interesting company.” If I hadn’t been subjected to Six’s ‘friend’ in the garden that night, and the way its voice had made my kidneys want to crawl out my ears, I would have found his voice unsettling. “What a fascinating sort of creature you are.”
His voice was little more than a soft purr, but it made Alistair flinch from my other side. The air whistled through his teeth in something akin to a hiss. I was suddenly sandwiched between two quietly bristling fonts of old power. This new vampire left a similar taste in the back of my throat to Alistair.
“Ah, daywalker.” The thin vampire had almost no lips to speak of, giving his face a strangely top-heavy quality when met with those round, luminous eyes. Alistair flinched. Daywalker. If there was one thing that was almost comforting when it came to vampires, it had to be the fact they were relegated to the twilight hours. No blood cursed could walk in the sun and live. If what this new vampire was insinuating was true, that would make Alistair a formidable sort of fellow indeed. I could see why the other blood cursed would have wanted him, and all his line, dead.
It was if the two vampires were looking through me, too preoccupied with one another like two massive predators standing at an impasse. A sudden, out of place surge of desire struck me, and suddenly the pair of posturing vampires just weren’t that interesting anymore. Orcus had risen from his seat, and was standing with his palms outstretched. My fingers itched to curl around those offered hands. I clearly wasn’t the only one who was struck by the compulsion either, suddenly all eyes seemed to be upon the vampire lord.
Six lurched forward, half hanging off the front of Orcus’ desk with a broad smile. It was an effort to drag my eyes off Orcus to look at her.
“I spy, with my little eye.”
Orcus seemed to loosen the hold he had on the room, because it was suddenly much easier to breathe. Eyes turned to the little woman.
“A little birdie told me that you are Silen. I hope I’m not mistaken.”
The tall, spidery vampire that stood across from Alistair
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