Chapter One
Thomas Nightshade
It's already nightfall by the time I arrive before the bleak building to meet the High Authority in accordance to my appointment. I pause for a small moment, running my pale, long fingers over the collar of my cape, flattening it and making sure I am presentable and that my sword lay perfectly sheathed and nonthreatening at my side. Running the same hand through my hair, I intake a breath of habit and lightly rap on the wooden door in front of me. After a few moments, a slot slides open where a pair of red-colored killer eyes meet my onyx ones before narrowing in scrutiny. The guard's fangs are clearly visible to me. It appears that he has recently fed and the evidence dribbles down his chin.
"Name and business," the voice grunts loudly. I get the notion that he does not want to be there. If I have to be in the presence of Lliam every day and night, I will most likely have that very same outtake. Lliam is such an irritating king.
"Thomas Nightshade, reporting for Century Calling." My reply was acute and short, not wasting any breath or bothering with unneeded pauses. I try not to look up towards the blood red moon hanging precariously above the castle door as if it will collapse within seconds on top of me as it will when a rogue or lycan passes under it—or when you lie. With it staying put, the guard knows that I am telling the truth. After looking me over for a few minutes, I soon hear the clink of metal keys as they are inserted into the lock. A few seconds snail by before the obviously heavy door swings open and I step quickly into the vast room. Behind me, I see the guard assume his position once again beside the bolted door before turning my attention to the six members of the High Authority.
"Ah…Thomas Nightshade, it is nice to see you again. How many years has it been since you have been blooded?" King Lliam asks me—notes of uncaring and malice distinct in his voice. Out of all in the High Authority, he is the only one seated within the room, looking very small in comparison to his majestic throne. The others are standing on either side of him with serious expressions; it feels as if they aren't really there yet are everywhere at the same time. I don't think that they have ever smiled a single day in their entire lives.
"It has been three hundred years, sir," I answer calmly, eyes passing over garnet ones as I stand there obediently, waiting for the clues to cue me in on his next words. The king takes his sweet time answering again--almost always expected for a vampire of his age and stature: a few minutes to us feels like a few meager seconds to him. This particular vampire is the most powerful in the Coven. His skin is the palest of us all and his hair is the color of the blackest night with the blackest new moon while his eyes are omniscient, powerful, and irrefutably cold. His clothes are ancient—he loves antique things—and he prefers only four colors that are echoed around the room. These colors are favored for the simple fact that they matched the morbidness of his sinister personality.
"Ah…three hundred. So many years ago that was. And you haven't aged a bit…not physically at least." The king's words are still slow but he smiles lightly at his half-hearted joke. I keep my expression hard as I prevent myself from laughing at just idiocy of it. How common knowledge it is that no one ages after they have been blooded. The vampire blood messes with the human DNA and prevents any vampire from aging and developing further in anyway beyond the mental and emotional boundaries. This is the reason the vampiric can not have children: one millennium may go by but the body itself just feels the same day go by one thousand times.
"Neither have you, sir. You have not aged a single day since I first met you two-hundred fifty-something years ago. At least, not physically you haven't." I smirk coolly, giving that teenage arrogance a swing in front of the King. His own smirk merely grows as he whispers something inaudible towards one of the other five members of the High Authority. Soon, a soft chuckle can be heard escaping from his lips as he turns his cold eyes towards mine and stands up. He is tall and easily towers over me. I am six feet in height.
"Have you anything to report to me, Thomas?" He questions, his arms neatly at his sides as if itching for the ancient sword at his right. The blood red eyes he holds are boring into me—he has not had a fight in a while and I may become his relief. If that happens I will surely be killed. Thankfully, my body does not react the way my mind does and my personal cool is kept in pristine condition. For the time being, anyway. Instead, I am slightly annoyed that he feels the need to ask me such a question. It's almost humiliating.
"Me? Have anything to report? Surely you know me better than to think I have made a mistake. Even if I did, you would have killed me by now. That is the punishment for disobeying, is it not? In any case, here, take it. This is for your precious filing system." I can not help myself from spitting this slightly. A servant for Lliam takes the folder and puts it on the table for the hierarchy to look through later and she shoots a glare at me. This heightens my annoyance. Well sorry for spitting at her precious lover—a lover whom will not care if she died the next minute. Excuse me, Miss Priss, for getting just slightly annoyed at your God in immortal flesh. I am Satan, I am evil—hate me. Lliam chuckles as he finds the defiance of someone so young strangely amusing before he withdraws into his head to think of my next Assignment.
"Familiar with Virginia in the United States of America?" He asks me simply, seeming to ignore my agitation. I almost frown; nothing is simple when it involves Lliam. Instead of shrugging like I normally will do in the presence of any other vampire, I pause for another precise moment before speaking once again.
"I passed by it a few times—it seems to me to be a state with little activity. I strayed away from the beach areas due to the…temptation if you will. Some places are truly congested." I reply, struggling to remember a trip that happened a hundred years ago. It was a rather boring trip. That little fact was all I could remember of the state that birthed the greedy nation.
"The key word is used to, Thomas. Vampiric activity is increasing in an area called Hampton Roads in southern Virginia. Already, the Clan is trying to dominate the place and I am making it your job to go there and get information. But that is not your major mission. That mission, however, I will not tell you for you have to figure it out on your own. But on to your Century Calling requirements…
"Thomas Nightshade, you are a good servant and addition to the vampiric ranks. I have great faith that you will bring another of such good quality among our people and to the Coven. And thus, you are to go back to school, high school, mind you, as a junior in Chesapeake, Virginia and bring a feminine vampire into our midst. You know what happens if you fail these orders as well as the Century Calling. The moment that the three hundredth year of your life goes by and you have not sired another, you will die with the rising sun. Sign if you understand and please note that not understanding is never an option." King Lliam commands, his voice demanding as the lyrics of his words bring out the true wickedness and malice that his voice can and most only holds when he is dead serious. I was concentrating so much on the voice that I didn't even notice the same servant come before me with a faded piece of parchment, my name at the top, and a slot for my signature. Grabbing the pen that I just noticed was there, I sign in a neat scrawl. Unlike most people, I was generally unaffected by him, joked with him even, and my signature was neat.
"Here you go, Lliam. You really should get some rest. A vampire of your stature, it can not possibly be an easy task to simply stay awake." The smirk is back after it took a little vacation and Lliam gives, for once, a genuinely smile.
"You always were a favorite of mine, Thomas. You are brave and unafraid of power. That is good, very good. But remember, you are not simply on Century Calling. Fail and I will kill you. No excuses."
Turning, I view the room for the last time before making my departure. My advanced eyes pass over the morbid gray statues, the crimson curtains, the mahogany furniture, and the black walls. How everything is so concise and matches the King of the Vampiric in more than just looks. My train of thoughts ends as I bow and make a calm, slow exit from the room with the orders running through my mind and transfer papers in the other. Five minutes later I am back in my apartment in London five thousand miles from King Sanguine's domain and get ready to move across the Atlantic.
****
I sigh as I close the tasteless curtains to block out the first rays of the sun; turning my attention to another window with the same tasteless fabric. My eyes survey the single room apartment that I have just recently acquired. A brown table with an accompanying chair is in a corner and a dingy, gray sofa against the wall. Behind me, across from two windows, was a small kitchen that I will not even use. To the left of me is a twin bed with a red comforter and a white pillow propped up against the brass headboard. I can not help but think that my temporary home is a dingy dump not worth inhabiting but it is all I could afford; as if the High Authority would ever pay for anything.
Giving the room another sweep, my eyes fall on the group of papers scattered along the table top. They are the records for my new school along with my locker number, combination, class schedule, a notice of when class dues are to be turned in for some trivial human thing, and a small, spiral bound book with a changing holographic cover accompanied with the words Oscar Smith High School—some item that was commonly called an agenda. Walking over to the wooden tabletop, I pick up a random sheet, looking at the information it holds. A chuckle escapes my lips as I catch the date of birth: June thirtieth nineteen hundred ninety; that is not even my 'birth' date much less the year and day I had been born. Why does the High Authority have to lie about everything little thing? Even my last name is a lie on these documents. Nightshade has transformed into Reverie. Oh well, it will do be no good to fret over this small trifle of things. Tomorrow will be a big day; everyone knows how much scrutiny the new kid is under on their first day of school. In my mind, I can not help but feel like I was preparing for a battle instead of a single school day that will be the start of many more. Collapsing on the bed, I close my eyes to rest. I'm a vampire—I don't