Chapter 4

Piqued

Isaac Black sat in the backseat of a polished-to-perfection, sleek black car. The vampire was the very essence of power, wealth, and prestige. From his custom-tailored suit to his stolid countenance, he radiated absolute dominance.

At the moment, they were parked on a dirt road in the heart of fertile Kansas farmland. A retinue of subordinates dressed in neat black suits awaited orders. As if the man had all the time in the world and was used to people waiting on him, Isaac sat in the fine leather seat, relaxed and deep in thought as he considered the simple navy blue-colored sash in his hand.

He had come across something unexpectedly intriguing today—not the sash, but the young man who had left it behind.

It was the last few days of a week-long tour of the territory’s farming lands. Isaac had endured tedious hours of reports on crop yields, soil quality, weather conditions, and slave productivity.

It was dull, but Isaac wouldn’t complain about his duties. These farmlands were essential to the territory’s health, and he would do his diligence in ensuring that even the smallest cogs were polished and well-oiled, lest the delicate balance of the smoothly run system crumbles.  

He decided to skip the reception held so far each time he arrived at a new location and get straight to work inspecting the local farms. He was glad he did.

Isaac thought back to when he caught the sound of a sweet melody, a lilting voice carried to him by the wind.

Following the siren’s irresistible call, he found himself behind a farmhouse where the song’s source lay in the grass beneath a mature tree, peering upwards. The boy seemed contentedly lulled by his very own singing—a being that earnestly lived for that moment. The staunchly apathetic vampire couldn’t help but be drawn in by the boy. He was genuinely fascinating.

Isaac had sauntered right up to the slave to get a good look at him. He was not disappointed. Small and soft with rich brown curls atop his head, the boy had a gentleness about him. 

The features of his face had revealed more delicious surprises: porcelain skin, full lips set in a natural pout, and the most stunning eyes he had ever seen. Isaac had a partiality for blue eyes, his thrall at home sporting glittering sapphire irises, but they seemed dull compared to the piercing icy blues gazing up towards the distant sky.

The vampire must have caught the slave distracted because he had approached unnoticed—not that he blamed him, vampires could choose to be eerily undetectable—but something about the boy was askew.  

When Isaac spoke and made his presence known, the slave didn’t show proper respect for a vampire master. He didn’t rise to his feet or respectfully bow his head low.

The boy just looked stunned. Then his features contorted into utter terror. Isaac could only witness it for a fleeting moment before the boy sprang up and dashed into the house, his feet gracefully flitting him away. However, the slave was not fast enough for his pale and pretty, collarless neck to go unnoticed.

Isaac had decided to let the youth go—for the moment. He would gather information and discover the crux of the situation.

A tentative voice brought him out of his musings.

“Did something happen on your walk, sir?” Ian asked from the front passenger seat.

Ian was Isaac’s reliable secretary. Always close and attentive, Ian could tell when Isaac had something on his mind.

He replied to the question, placing the cloth sash on the seat next to him and picking up his pad. “Yes. I came across the most peculiar slave. I intend to learn more about him, and then we will retrieve him.”

Ian didn’t inquire any further. He would get answers soon enough, knowing Isaac wouldn’t tolerate being pestered by continuous questioning from those beneath him.

Isaac accessed the local slave information on his pad. The land and farmhouse, located in central Kansas, were assigned to family number 20902. There were five family members:

• Phillip, male head of the family, age 46, blood rating: 73 (fairblood), originated from the western Kansas region.

• Anna, female head of the family, age 44, blood rating: 76 (fairblood), originated from the northeast Oregon region.

• Cypress, male offspring, age 22, blood rating: 78 (fairblood). Note: newly assigned a female pairing—Mabel of family number 10188, age 22, blood rating: 73 (fairblood).

• Ash, male offspring, age 17, blood rating: pending.

• Willow, female offspring, age 12, blood rating: pending.

A supplementary note in the information files caught Isaac’s full attention. The family had reported an infant death. Their second child, male, died shortly after birth… nineteen years ago.

Isaac placed the pad on the seat beside him and picked up the sash again. It had the faint but enticing scent of vanilla and sweet tea. As he slid the soft piece of cloth between his fingers, he wondered for what reason would bring family number 20902 to lie about the boy’s death. He ran a hand through his dark brown, neatly styled hair. His amber-colored eyes blazed as an uncharacteristic smirk reached his lips. He was going to find out.

“Drive to farm number 20902,” he commanded the driver, his tone laced with power and authority.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

* * *

Juniper sat in his bed with his blankets draped around him, seeking warmth in the cool cellar room. He never liked his room. It was cold, devoid of light, and lonely. Juniper couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever return to it again.

He was so tired. If he lay down, he would probably fall asleep, his mind ready to shut down.

His family was back upstairs. He could hear Ash arguing with Father. Of course, it would be Ash. He didn’t want to sit around, waiting for their masters to come. Jun was sure it must have felt wrong to Ash. He was the one to spring into action. Jun always admired his bravery and tenacity.

Opposite to Ash’s emotions, Juniper was resigned. He was tired of hiding. Tired of the cold darkness. Tired of not knowing anything.

He didn’t want to die. Very few cherished life like Juniper did. He was grateful for even the limited time he had with his family, but his time was up.

He would accept his fate, but there was one thing he intended to fight for. If he had to, he would beg, offer anything… if it would keep his family from being executed alongside him. He would gladly give his life to save them. Of course, the vampires may just take it and his family’s lives as well—without regard. But he would at least try.

Jun heard the cellar door open and two sets of feet descending the ladder. It was his brothers, Cypress and Ash. They each sat on either side of him and enwrapped him in a firm hug. It warmed him more than the blankets ever could.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t protect you.”  

It was Cypress that spoke while he pulled out of the hug. Juniper could feel his bitter regret, but Juniper had regrets and guilt of his own.

“No.” Jun cut off his older brother. “Cypress, I’m sorry you always had to be responsible for me. It was a heavy burden you always carried while growing up… And Ash, I’m sorry I wasn’t much of an older brother.”  

Juniper was beginning to fall into despair again.

“Jun, stop.” Ash’s voice cut straight into Jun’s sinking emotions, halting the dark fall. “This situation is fucked up. We’re brothers, we’ll always be brothers, and none of us should ever feel sorry for that.”

Ash exuded strength of will and courage. He laid it out there for Jun to take, and Jun soaked it up.

“Thank you, Ash. I love you all. I won’t let them hurt any of you,” Juniper said firmly.

“And we won’t let you sacrifice yourself,” replied Cypress, equally firm.

“You’re both stubborn shits,” Ash said, leaving out that he was the most stubborn of them all.

The brothers couldn’t help but burst into uninhibited laughter. They took a moment to laugh in the face of all their stress, pain, and sorrow. Juniper was genuinely thankful for his brothers’ presence in that moment. It was just what he needed in order to face what was coming.

The laughter died away, and they sat in companionable silence. Nothing more needed to be said amongst them.

The sound of multiple wheels on a dirt road abruptly pulled them out of their shared moment. The vampires had come.

“Cypress! Ash! Come up—they’re here,” Father called, his voice unwavering. He was so strong. “Jun, stay there.”

They left Juniper alone again. The tension buzzed throughout the house. Jun was glad that he could hear everything through the old wooden floorboards. The creaking above indicated that his family had gathered in the living room, where the front entrance was.

There was no knock on the door before the threshold was breached. The vampires had entered their home.

Jun could feel them. He had always been able to detect a vampire’s presence, even as he remained hidden away in the cellar when the overseers made their inspections. They felt dangerously powerful, like electricity in the air. It was even more so now, almost suffocating to Jun. From the sounds of the shuffling and heavy steps, Jun guessed there were about five or six vampires in their home.

One of them spoke.

“Family number 20902, prostrate yourselves before His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Isaac of Clan Black.”

Suddenly, Jun could hear five sets of knees falling to the floor in what was surely respectful bowing. Jun’s mind reeled—Crown Prince? How?… Why?… Why would he be here?

Then came an aristocratic voice that was deep and rich, spoken languidly, as though the speaker knew the world awaited his words with bated breath. Juniper instantly recognized it as belonging to the vampire who had found him.

“Bring the other.”