Ian

[There is too much important information in this chapter to be called a side story—don’t skip it!]  

The sun wasn’t due to rise for some time yet, but despite the hour, the palace bustled with activity. Vampires hardly slept, and there were many slaves to perform tasks at all hours of the day.

Ian stood in his room before a full-length mirror, having just dressed in a tidy gray suit. Gazing at his reflection, he checked for any imperfections. Ian must appear immaculate. He would notice if even the slightest thing were out of place, and that would be unforgivable.

He couldn’t suppress a shiver at the thought of that man, Charles—the head of his clan. The vampire who’d sired Ian had been “brothers” with Charles. And their clan had served the Black clan, the royal bloodline, for centuries. Charles took the prestige that came with such a position gravely, and he had no tolerance for anything less than perfection.

The secretary concentrated on his appearance. He began to tackle his hair, which always took a bit of effort. His flaxen strands were nearly as unruly as Juniper’s.

A sigh escaped him. He never thought highly of his appearance. Though he was on the tall side for a human, other vampires towered above him. He had also worked hard to improve his strength during his years as a potential, but he still couldn’t compare to the supernatural standard of brute muscle mass.  

Once he deemed himself ready, he took a moment to stare into his own hazel eyes. He began each day this way—an affirmation to himself that he was becoming stronger and that it would be another day of a job well done.

Today, he would need a couple of extra deep breaths, as he would have his mandatory weekly meeting with him.

In and then out. In and then out.  Okay, he was ready now.

He walked out the door.

It wasn’t far down the hall when he was just outside His Highness’s room. The door suddenly opened, and Phoenix walked out. His eyes cast downward, so he hadn’t noticed Ian.

Why was he leaving the prince’s room? He was sure that Juniper was still there.

Phoenix turned and bumped right into him. Any other vampire would have been angered, but Ian only helped steady the human.

“Careful there.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” A terse apology, the most minimum of required respect in order to avoid punishment.

Ian couldn’t be bothered to be offended, with too many pressing matters to care about at the moment. He and Phoenix hardly had reason to interact in the years they’d known each other.  

He did find the thrall to be strangely detached and cold for a human, and he wondered how he would take to Juniper. He was sure to notice how different Isaac was with him…

He better keep an eye on the boy. Charles had made it clear that Juniper’s reputation in the palace would be his responsibility, and they absolutely did not need petty human drama.

Phoenix simply walked on, and Ian did too, going in separate directions. He had a day’s worth of duties to get to.

The secretary arrived in the enormous palace kitchens. He walked through as the slaves, busy with breakfast preparations, paused their work and bowed. Ian gestured for them to carry on as he arrived at one of the massive refrigerators storing blood packs.

Ian wasn’t a noble, but being the crown prince’s secretary earned him a decent rank and privileges. He had access to blood up to 80 rating, but he still often went for blood in the 70s. The longer one was a vampire, the more refined their tastes became. So to him, there wasn’t much difference, and he didn’t really care.

He quickly consumed the sustenance his body required and then discarded the empty pack. Time for the meeting.

Anxiety filled his heart as every step took him closer to that office. Every week he dealt with this. He thought being a vampire would change things…

Well, at least the man couldn’t drink his blood anymore, and he finally began to stand up for himself—like the night they had arrived with Juniper. He could tell Charles hadn’t liked that, but Ian was stronger now and no longer a slave.

He stood before the office door and took a moment to mentally prepare himself: be cordial, respectful, and smiling. Be perfect.

He knocked on the door.

“Enter,” a cold voice said.

“Good morning, sir.”  

“Sit, Ian.” Charles’s tone always seemed uninterested and unimpressed.

Ian sat in the chair positioned in front of a large wooden desk. The office was lavishly furnished, dark wood tones to set an oppressive mood right away.

 “This new thrall is going to be a problem. The press is all over him already. Stories and reports about the whole affair are rampantly circulating.”

Charles stood as he spoke and walked around to the front of the desk, not too far from Ian. He leaned against it with arms crossed in an imposing stance, always needing to appear intimidating. He glared at the younger vampire.

That glare used to terrify him, and even now, he still felt a tightening in his chest.

“Juniper shouldn’t be a problem. He will be trained, and then the public will love him. He will become His Highness’s asset.” Ian spoke with as much confidence as he could. He truly believed the words he said.

“I don’t think so. I think he will be a weakness,” the word spoken with extra malice.  

Charles stood to move closer to Ian, forcing him to look up. He knew the bastard got off on the power dynamics.

“He should have been executed, immediately—and his family. His blood shouldn’t have even been tested. You should have been able to handle it.”

Charles reached down and gripped Ian’s jaw. The pressure swiftly tuned harsh and cruel. Despite the older vampire moving past the years of his prime, he was still stronger than Ian.

“You’ve disappointed me, Ian…”

The atmosphere became tense. Ian started to panic. Charles hadn’t touched him like this since he became a vampire. The old fears crept into his heart.

“You know I disagreed with you being turned. You may have outstanding intellect, but you were always too soft.”

Charles moved to caress Ian’s cheek. His stomach churned as he felt sickened from the touch.

“A soft temperament to match that soft body of yours…”

“NO!” Ian slapped the vampire’s hand away and abruptly stood.

“You can’t touch me like that anymore! I’m a vampire, and I have rank now!”

A wicked grin spread across Charles’s face. His hand darted out, and he locked Ian’s throat in his grasp, squeezing unforgivably.

Ian was immobilized.

It hurt.

He was scared.

Oh, he hated himself for how quickly the terrors returned. He thought he had overcome them. He thought he had become stronger. 

“I’m impressed by this new side of you, Ian. Perhaps you are not so soft anymore.”

Ian was losing air as Charles’s face moved close to his ear.

“But don’t forget who is the head of our clan. You may no longer be a slave, but I–still–own–you,” Charles said in a deadly whisper, accentuating his last words.

He let go, and Ian dropped to the floor. He crumpled in on himself, gasping and coughing. Charles walked away to sit behind his desk once more.

“Arrange for the slave’s education. Make him perfect.”

Ian started to recover his breathing, the trembling subsiding. The bruises around his neck were already fading.

“Compose yourself. Then get to your duties.”

Ian slowly stood up. He gritted his teeth and took slow breaths, in and out. Walking steadily to the door, he tried not to give away how desperate he was to reach it. Charles paid him no more attention as he left. The vampire always knew how to make him feel less-than. Pathetic.

He endeavored to make it back to his own room, quickly, without drawing too much attention. To his safe place.

Once he closed the door behind him, his strength left him. His back slid down the door, and he sat on the hard wooden floor, bringing his knees to his chest and burying his face in them.

Calm down, Ian, calm down.

Why did Charles touch him like that? He was used to his verbal abuses. He’d never been a good enough vampire for his clan, but he hadn’t been touched since…since… before.

Ian willed himself to stand, and on shaky legs, he walked over to his mirror. He would be okay. He could get through this. He wasn’t a weak and helpless human anymore.

The young vampire smoothed out his suit and straightened his hair—righting himself, both in appearance and mind, before he must report to Prince Isaac’s room. 

Someday, I’ll be stronger than that old bastard…