Moving to an area of the broken wall overgrown with weeds, he pulled open a trap door and descended into a hidden room knowing the sun would soon be rising. Instantly he knew he wasn’t alone and prepared himself for any attack. After a second, the shutter of a lantern was opened just enough so his vampire eyes could see the room around him. Beside the lantern sat a figure, wrapped in a dirty black cloak.
“I knew I smelled another vampire last night as I skirted the village.” The figure said.
“This is my place to sleep, what are you doing here?” Jieller said, trying to sound braver than he felt.
“Just hiding like you and wanting news of what’s going on.” The figure said as he pulled back his hood to reveal a young face.
Jieller relaxed as he moved forward to sit on an old powder barrel across from the newcomer.
“So how did you end up living like this?” the stranger asked.
“I escaped from York about a month back, got out just before the nest was attacked. What clan are you?” Jieller asked, trying to discover something about the stranger. He was not comfortable in his presence, something about the young vampire didn’t seem right.
“No clan, well not anymore,” the stranger said with a despondent sigh. “Who attacked York?”
“The Blood Knights, they are working their way across the land and destroying us all. With the Countess and the majority of our strength away fighting the lycans we cannot stand against them. Where have you been for the last year?” Jieller asked unable to understand how one of his kind could be so out of touch with the war that was raging.
“We’ve been busy trying to find someone. A witch dragged us here, so one can also send me back.” The stranger stopped and cocked his head as Jieller felt a change in the room, subtle but it was there. “Splitting hairs, the witch is responsible,” he said as he returned his gaze to Jieller.
“What was that? Who are you talking to?” Jieller asked, his hand moving to the hilt of a knife at his waist.
“I heard of some in Bideford a couple of years ago, but the locals hung them before I got there.” The stranger said, ignoring the question.
“I’m afraid you’ll struggle to find a live witch, the Witchfinder General has done his job well on these shores.” Jieller said, deciding he wanted the vampire out of his bolthole. “There are rumours of one near Bury St Edmunds, goes by the name of Mother Munnings. It’s said that she did some work for the head of the Nottingham clan a few years ago when he had trouble with a demon.”
“I had trouble with a demon once, she took my sister Polly,” again the strange vampire paused. “I’m not always bringing it up. Ok I’ll not mention it again.”
“Who do you keep talking to?” Jieller pressed again. “If we’re to share this space for the day, I would like to know who you are and why you keep talking to yourself.”
The stranger looked over at Jieller and after a moment focused on him. “Sorry, I’m Eloim and I’m not talking to myself. I’m talking to my ring.” He held up his hand to show a ring on his finger. “It holds the consciousness of the Demon Alexia.”
If Jieller had been human, that would have been the point where the blood drained from his face. All vampires knew of the demon Empress after she had been used by the newly established church in Rome to clear the catacombs and hidden temples, killing hundreds of their kind in a single day - including many of the eldest vampires known.
“I think you may have spent too much time alone and you are not right in the head Eloim.” Jieller said carefully; which got a huge grin from Eloim.
“One of my other sisters, Karla used to say that all the time.” Eloim said cheerfully.
To be continued.
Well at least Eloim is not alone, he still has Alexia to chat at, even if it is making him look crazy in the eyes of others.
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