Resting his elbows on his thighs, Marius leaned forward and met his sister’s gaze. “So you were researching the First.”
“I was.” Shadows slipped from her palms, darkening the space around them. “Tell me, Marius, what do you know about where the Firsts came from?”
He furrowed his brows, sifting through the many lessons he’d received from his various tutors.
“I know as much as the next person.” He lifted a shoulder. Academics had never been his strong suit. “The Firsts were original vampires who lost their minds, went feral, and were magically entombed for Eleyta’s safety.”
“Yes, that’s true.” Luna nibbled on her bottom lip and twisted her hands in her lap.
“Why do I sense there’s a ‘but’ coming?”
She grimaced, and more shadows flitted from her hands.
“Because there is.” Her voice lowered. “The thing is, the Firsts aren’t… common vampires.”
He’d figured as much since the creature didn’t die when he stabbed it in the heart, but something in his sister’s tone had a pit yawning in his stomach. “What did you learn?”
“It seems there were some things left out of the history books. I had to dig deep to find out the truth about what happened. The Firsts weren’t just entombed.” She took a deep breath. “Let me tell you a story…”
A Death and a Celebration
Several thousand years ago
A storm was coming. Grey, almost black clouds crept along the midnight sky, and a brisk wind tasting of ice brushed Therese Calin’s cheeks. Somewhere in the distance, a woman screamed.
“Help!” the woman wailed, her voice thready and weak. “Someone, please help!”
Therese tilted her head in the direction of the woman’s distress. The wind whipped sable locks around her face, and she tucked one behind her ear.
Her lips tugged up as another plea for mercy rose through the night air, and she licked her fangs. Was there any sound more beautiful than a mortal in pain?
When a third cry rose, followed by a bone-chilling scream, Therese turned and raced towards the sound.
She moved with vampiric speed and grace through the forest. Branches slashed at her cheeks, the cuts healing as soon as they appeared.She sailed over fallen trees and darted around clusters of evergreens without breaking her stride.
A white hare raced in front of Therese, and a wolf howled in the distance.
Even now, nearly twenty centuries after her Making, she found delight in the night. Therese was a daughter of Ithiar through and through. Some other vampires mourned their mortal families who had long since passed, but not her. She didn’t mind that she’d forgotten small details like the color of her mother’s hair or the shape of her father’s nose.
That life was long gone.
What were mortal relationships and memories of the past when faced with forever?
When the god of blood had offered Therese immortality, she’d accepted it without a second thought. Her family members had started dying a few years after she’d been Made, but she’d been hard-pressed to care. She’d offered to Make them, but they had refused her gift.
She was an abomination, her mother said. A dark demon, was her father’s response.
Well, Therese showed them.
She was still here, and their bodies had long since returned to the dirt.
Another scream cut through the air, and Therese picked up speed. She inhaled deeply, a coppery scent filling her lungs. The enticing aroma propelled her forward, her fangs burning in eager anticipation.
She ran until she located the source of blood.
Finally.
Hiding behind a tree, she drank in the sight before her.
