Though I was being watched from all sides, I was completely still, like a rabbit frozen under the eyes of a hawk. Or in this instance, 70 very alert and hungry vampires.

My mind was screaming levels of panic that made it difficult to hear the faint murmuring of the aghast crowd. I had to remain still‒remain quiet. If I screamed and ran, this would only look worse. Competing instincts warred inside me, and I could hear my heart hammering violently in my own chest.

My hunger surged through me, registering the wasted blood of the body behind me. The thought made me ill.

“How uncouth for a man of his years.” Someone muttered.

“What an ugly display from the Jester, there was a challenge issued?”

“I thought they were lovers?”

There was no fire-alarm going off, no rush of people pouring in to see to the collapsed ceiling. Other Dominus were seeing to the few that had heard the noise. Already vampires were pouring into the room that had been above us, securing the site. There were tuxedos and phones everywhere.

Amongst vampires, challenges were not completely uncommon, although killing was frowned upon. We were very few in numbers and it was not easy to make new children. To kill another vampire was one way to advance in rank, achieve vengeance or generally announce that it was not wise to cross you. One did not flaunt this act. It was macabre and sadistic, against all our traditions and values.

I was in dire straits if they thought I had been stupid enough to do murder Caine. I could have claimed the King’s territory for my own; I could have taken his businesses and holdings for my own. But I wasn’t, and I couldn’t.

All this was running through my mind, underscoring a much more dramatic thought or two that I didn’t have time to deal with right now. I stared at Caine’s face; a face I knew well. I stared at his eyes, forever unblinking. A great weight began to smother me. I stopped breathing, but it was still there, caught in my chest. An emotion I hadn’t felt since I was human.

“Jester, come. Elder council convenes in the smoking longue,” The Emperor’s tone was completely neutral.

Without sparing me a glance, he turned and walked through the crowd; it parted before him like a wave of flesh. He may have been a small, twelve year old boy, but I had seen him kill someone with two fingers.

I swallowed my panic and lump of fear back into my chest and fell into line behind him. There were not a lot of options to be had. I could panic and run, or I could face the elders for this grievous breech of protocol and hope that my defence was good enough.

Since my defence was ignorance, that might work. The Torturer was already at the small door. She opened it and flashed me her fangs as I passed into the darkened room beyond.

I glared at her. She was just trying to get a rise out of me.

Unfortunately, it might work at the moment. Calm now Avery, you’re over seven-hundred years old. They know you aren’t this dumb. It was always Caine’s voice I heard in my head, offering me good advice. Even now, I remembered his calm when I was being accused of murdering him.

What had happened? I had seen him mingling, seen him talking with other elders, hadn’t I? I tried to think if there had been anything strange about his behaviour- anything unusual. Had someone fought him without anyone noticing? That seemed impossible. The King was one of the strongest of the Dominus.

Inside the smoking room, six large, overly plush chairs had been arranged into a small semi-circle. It was probably just coincidence. The Torturer pulled a cheap, plastic chair from behind the door and placed it to face the empty faux-velvet chairs.

I waited beside the cheap plastic chair before I sat down, aware of the stares from outside as the elders entered around me, silently‒ deadly. My life was suddenly in their hands. I was sweating; no longer just from the show I had put on, but from the cold knot of fear roiling in my stomach.

The Emperor sat directly in front of me, crossing his small legs comfortably and naturally in the velvet conclave, like this was just a casual chat. The Torturer stood behind him‒unless he told her to go, she would always stand there.

On his right were the Wolf and the Priest and on his left the Spider, Warrior and Impaler all sat. I had never been focused on by so many Dominus elders for such a bad reason.

I was shaking and the doors had not even closed.

I wanted to scream that I had not done anything, that it had nothing to do with me, but that would not help. I had to remain calm and in control. If I annoyed the Elders, they would kill me for sheer spite.

When everyone was seated the Emperor laced his tiny, eternally pudgy fingers in front of his face and nodded.

“Speak, Avery. Was it an accident?”

It seemed easy to believe that he, the dainty boy in front of me, would be forgiving and generous. But he was not the ruler of the vampire community, nor called the Emperor, for his tolerance on crime.

I shook my head violently, not quite trusting myself to speak. I felt like I was choking on all the words I was trying to say. I needed to be calm, I needed to be rational. The King was dead. Caine, my closest friend was dead. The imprint of his shocked eyes was burning into my mind, driving away all sentient thought. I couldn’t afford time to be surprised. Centuries of life and suddenly I had no time.

“Enough silence, Jester; speak!” The Torturer harshly hissed.

I swallowed and inhaled slowly, “I did not do this.”

The Torturer snorted and crossed her arms under her breasts, “That’s it? Your defence? You prance around with these dangerous stunts and, when someone dies, you claim it isn’t your doing? This is not the first time you have lost control of your illusions and another vampire has paid for your impudence.”

“Enough, woman!” The Emperor growled; it was not her place to speak, and the looks on the faces of the other council members showed what they thought of her outburst.

The Emperor held up a hand and the Torturer fell silent, her stony blue gaze boring into my head. I recalled that the vampire I had killed so long ago as a baby vampire of seventy had been her making. No wonder she was always such a bitch to me.

He spoke, eyes still on me, “Did you have a hand in this?”

I glanced at the other elders around me, feeling the trembling in my fingers spread to my arms. I clasped my hands in my lap so it would not be so obvious. The Impaler was regarding me with his dark, intense eyes‒ an unreadable expression that did not tell me anything. My sire was always impossible to read. The others all looked vaguely disinterested, however the Priest was glaring at the Torturer; he was a notorious misogynist.

I shook my head emphatically, “No. My grand finale was going to be a transformation. I had not thought of bringing down the roof.”

I stopped myself before I annoyed them by insinuating the inquiry was unwarranted. Despite that I was the Jester, I was no fool. I lived at their mercy.

Hot-headed Dominus were not long for the world, and I did not want to end up like the Princess; the girl did not know when to shut her pretty little mouth.

“Do not joke, Jester,” The Emperor warned me. His eyes flashed amber and I sat in paralytic fear. His power rose in the room and everyone stilled. I found my mouth aching from the burn of my fangs as they responded to my fear. He could literally detonate me if he grew angry enough. Apparently he was not interested in witty comments.

I took the hint.

“The King is dead, Avery. As his official second, you know how this looks; his corpse was at your feet at the end of your dance-piece. He was not known to be weak, but there are some who would question his power and entitlement if you, a mere Jester, could kill him so quickly and effortlessly.”

I did not bristle at his denouncement of my performance as a simple ‘dance-piece.’ He was doing it deliberately to provoke me, to see if I was angry enough to be provoked.

The tension in the room was palpable.

It was my first time being brought to answer before the Elders.

I had gained my Dominus status when an older vampire had decided to take some liberties with me‒ I had been barely seventy when I my power showed its full potential. Corneliu had been forcing himself upon me. I was tied to the bed. So I called my illusions. They held him down and then killed Corneliu. I had killed a vampire without lifting a finger. It was ruled self-defence, I had been granted status. A Dominus could kill with their power. People tended to forget that around me; I was nothing but a fool, a joke of a powerful old vampire.. Like the Emperor, people underestimated me.

I thrived on this.

When you are overconfident, you are weak.

I had not taken more than two short-ended challengers before it was decided that I simply was not worth the effort. I had no holdings, and little to no status. I was not a fighter; I did not have a trouble-maker’s reputation in the rings of power. Of the eight vampires in this room, I was the youngest, and I had no history of bad behaviour. I was a cad, a dandy. It was how I had survived centuries; by being so useless and harmless no one felt a need to concern over me.

I ran my hand over my face, pulling the illusion of a clean face over my paint so that I appeared more serious. It was the male face that I presented to the world; my jaw was slightly square, my ears a little bigger. But it was a wasted effort against the Impaler and the Emperor. They knew what hid behind my illusions and male-posture‒ a scared little girl. I needed to be taken seriously now. I needed to show them that I understood what was going on, and a clown-face does not portray these things.

My jaw ached with the thrum of my illusion, the burning urge to drink rolling down my neck and spine. I felt parched and leathery. Veins were creeping on my arms; a sign of starvation if I didn’t feed soon.

“I swear on my blood that I had neither hand nor knowledge of the King’s death; I could not have killed him. I lack the energy to have created a projection at the same time as such a show, especially one through a solid floor. I have not left the reception since arriving, and I had no reason to bring harm to the King. I benefit in no way from his death.”

“You did not want his territory for your own?” This from the Priest.

The Impaler shook his head, “The Jester cannot hold a territory and he knows it.”

I was glad for the vote, but I knew what it was‒a reminder that, even though I played the role, I was not a man, and he would never let the charade extend to my owning territory. I simply nodded at his remark.

No woman was allowed to own territory. It had happened once before‒with the Princess‒ and that had been, in the Emperor’s words, “a fucking nightmare.” That had lasted about three months.

“Surely if he can kill for it, he can hold it?” The Priest was not letting it rest quite so simply.

“No, he cannot,” This from the Emperor.

Radu’s voice was heavy, like silks pouring across my skin, and I found my attention focusing on my sire as he spoke. I had forgotten how hypnotic he could be. He called me ‘my child’ in the old tongue, the words rolling off his tongue like so many memories,“Copilul meu, did the King hurt or embarrass you in some way?”

His voice was concerned and understanding, but I knew it was a damning trap, just as the Emperor was sweet and innocent. Radu had about as much sweetness as a venus fly-trap.

We all held our masks on well tonight.

“No,” I shook my head, “Tatal meu, I had no reason or need to bring harm or charges against him. We had no challenges or bad blood. I do not know what happened to him. That is the honest truth.”

“That would be believable if your fangs were not still drawn, Jester,” The Torturer murmured. She was out for blood.

“He is probably hungry, Torturer. He just put on quite a display of power; certainly, after a week of fasting, I would be hard pressed not to feed shortly after such a display myself,” The Spider, coming to my defence, “Perhaps refreshments will serve to lighten our moods?”

I had not expected reinforcement from the Spider. Dante Randall, his current name was. The longer I was around him, the more I liked him.

While the undead community was not large, we did not all meet. Most of us stayed in a small cluster or family, and loners like the Spider were rare. After all, what would be the point of living forever if you were alone? The words of Rupert came back to me, and I wondered what exactly the Spider gained out of helping me avoid dying tonight.

I studied him from under my lashes, he was attractive, but most of us were. He had a sharp nose, definitive European features, straight and thin platinum blonde hair, and his eyes were an unusually pale green.

Most vampires had dark eyes, the reason is unknown, but we did not tend to keep our natural eye colour. Perhaps his were a sign of his age. All the other Dominus in the room had lighter eyes than mine. The Emperor’s eyes would turn pale white when he was angry. I had seen it only once and thanked my stars that he hadn’t been angry with me.

The Emperor born when Egypt had two kingdoms times, when the first civilizations had risen. His skin had once been a dark shade of copper, but it slowly drained to the almost transparent white that he had now. The Spider’s skin was a milky, chalk white‒tan compared to the Emperor.

But they did both have very pale eyes. Would I have eyes so pale after a couple of millenniums?

I wondered if the Emperor had made the Spider. Our lineage was usually forgotten after long enough time. I did not place much edifice on our origins; it became depressing when you had to write how many had died. I’ve seen death, I’ve seen starving men in streets and old men in threadbare beds. But I’ve never seen much violent death. When Radu had taken the name Radu Dracul I had been across the ocean of lands, plying my trade in distant kingdoms. Radu had a reputation, but one I had never shared.

When I closed my eyes I could see Caine’s head falling down; dropping through the gap in the ceiling; like a precious bundle. My sleeves were covered in his blood. It was cold, damp, wet. I focused on his blood like I had never seen blood before.

I was brought out of my thoughts as the Emperor nodded sagely, “Tina, bring in a few donors then. We might as well eat while we wait for the Investigator to conclude his judgment.”

The Torturer stiffened at this, but she bowed and walked to the door.

As the door closed the Priest snorted, annoyed, “That woman does not know her place. She speaks out of turn in a meeting of Elders. Jester is in his rights to punish her for such insolence.”

Radu smirked at me, dark eyes glittering with mirth, “The Jester is accustomed to being mocked, Priest.”

I resisted rolling my eyes and telling them that sure, I would do something if she kept it up.