The Font (2 page)

             
He looked of the colonial era, with his reddish-brown hair caught back in a ponytail that reached the bottom of his neck. 
He had
an
old-fashioned sense to him despite wearing a modern tan button-down shirt and jeans that outlined a powerful body. 
She couldn’t tell the color of his eyes, not at this distance, but their briefly exchanged look had assured her of their piercing quality. 
His perfectly chiseled features were marred only by a slight bump on the bridge of his nose, as if he’d broken it at some point in his life. 
Most injuries suffered after one became a vampire completely healed. 

The handsome man
smiled a little as he nodded to his fellow vampires, but there was a
distrustful air
that made the corners of his eyes tight.  And underneath all of that was a sad world-weariness that she felt even from across the room. 
It was as if he retained
the
humanity long cast aside by other vampires.
  Heriolf
in particular
retained barely anything of human civilization
in his personality
.

             
Naya was startled to
discover she
compar
ed
the other man to
the vampire lord
and chastised herself for it.  Heriolf was her guardian, her friend, the one person she could count on. 
He’d been good to her since the death of her parents, and s
he wished she could love him as she thought she should.  He hadn’t spoken of it yet, but she knew he intended to make her his bride.  He would soon give her his blood, making them eternal companions forever.  If he was often brutal to vampire and human alike, well, she could understand his motivations.  Vampires were a calculating and ambitious lot
.  F
or the peace of his kingdom, Heriolf was sometimes forced
in
to
doing
what on the
surface
looked like despicable acts.  And the human victims … well, that was harder to accept.  But their blood was needed for vampire survival.  It wasn’t necessary to kill them for that blood or to include the rapes that so often accompanied the devouring, but to keep his empire stable Heriolf had confided he must allow such predations.  Must
sometimes
even indulge in those monstrous activities himself
for appearances sake
.

             
Naya
couldn’t help but look towards the celebratory feast.  Laid out in a long line
were
naked and bound humans, their cries muffled behind the gags stuffed into their mouths
.  Their wide, frightened eyes
stared at the vampires milling about the hall. 

The soon to be devoured were k
illers.  Child rapists.  People who cheated the elderly and sick.  Heriolf had assured her the victims weren’t victims at all, but human monsters best culled from society in order to protect the innocent.  Still it raised her gorge, knowing what they soon faced.  The smell of old blood competed with that of vampire, a testament to many such feasts over the past
years
.  Feasts usually presided over by Heriolf himself.

             
I will not find fault with him. 
He is my guardian.  He took pity on me, an orphan with no money and nothing to offer, at least not that he knew of at the time.  He loves me.  I owe him everything, and I will not question my loyalty.

             
Her resolve bolstered, Naya moved closer to place her small hand on his where it rested on the chair’s arms. 
Heriolf’s wrist turned so that he could lace his fingers with hers. 
He smiled.  “Quite the
gathering
tonight, isn’t it
my dear
?
”  His brilliant blue eyes swept over her, and she knew she did not imagine the heat in them.  “You look lovely, as always.”

Naya forced a smile for Heriolf.  She thought of him as a protective uncle.  Knowing his thoughts were far more intimate made her insides churn.  Just the feeling of his mouth at her throat as he took a few swallows of her blood each night made her squeamish.  When he made her his bride, there would be much more than his fangs inside her, and she felt guilty over the curl of disgust in her guts at the thought.

She said, “Thank you.”  Then, because she couldn’t help it, she confided, “I hate these things.”

His brows drew together a little, but his tone was indulgent.  “No one will touch you.  They all know they will die if they do.”

“May I retire as soon as the ceremony is over?  Before the feast begins
in earnest?
”

He chuckled,
seemingly
a doting father with his cranky child.  “Of course.  I know how sentimental you are for the fodder, but I
promise
you they are little more than animals.”

Naya kept her eyes on his face, where she couldn’t see the
frightened
expressions of the naked humans waiting to be used to appease vampire hungers. 
Not looking at them made i
t easier to remember these were criminals, meeting a deserved justice.  “Of course.  It is for the best.”

She kept her
gaze
from the group of victims, feeling the stretch of every slowly passing second until she could leave the hall.

* * * *

Heriolf looked over his subjects, feeling Naya’s warmth so very close.  She smelled of wooded paths, of autumn leaves, of wilderness.  She’d been exploring
the forest that surrounded the mansion
again, and it worried him.  She was vulnerable to the human slaves of his enemies, of which he was sure he had many.  But keeping one of Naya’s kind indoors all of the time was an impossibility if he wanted her to remain sane.  And he did like her with her faculties intact, wanted to keep her that way for as long as possible.  Perhaps one day it would be necessary to imprison her, visiting only to take the blood that made him invincible.  Should that day come he would
lock her away
without a speck of consci
ence
, though he might have a moment of remorse.  Willing fonts were so much better than those that fought him.

Still, the thought his enemies might target Naya nagged at Heriolf.  That he had enemies, he was positive. 
Randalf
’s disappearance was proof of that.  His dedicated aide had been gone over a month now, and Heriolf felt sure he had been visited by his final death.  But which of these who attended him now had been behind it?  His ability to read minds had not uncovered the traitor in
the vampires’
midst.  Even now, as he listened to their thoughts one at a time hoping for a clue, there was no indication of who had taken
Randalf
.

Instead there were only thoughts of blood and of sex, the inane wanderings of insignificant minds.  So bendable, so easy to terrorize and cajole were the
other
vampires.  As long as the animal hungers were met,
his subjects
were as much sheep as the humans they’d once been.  Heriolf’s takeover had been met with barely an outcry, even when he’d destroyed the council members that had once ruled southeast Georgia.  Not when he’d bribed so many into complacency.  And those who had fought against him?  He’d easily overpowered them, Naya’s blood giving him the strength and prior knowledge of those who
would
defy him.  His rise to supremacy had been almost laughably easy.

But now
Randalf
was gone, an overt challenge to Heriolf’s rule.  Well, the greed of his subjects remained one of Heriolf’s greatest tools, and he knew well how to use it.

He stood and the room fell silent at once.  Without preamble he announced, “Many of you know my trusted aide Randalf.  He has been missing for over a month now.  I am eager to discover his whereabouts, so if any have heard anything, even just rumors, I am prepared to make it worth your while for sharing information with me.”

He gestured to the whimpering feast, enough for his subjects to glut themselves on.  And they would tonight, drinking and fucking themselves into a thrall.  It wouldn’t end until every last human on the buffet had been raped and sucked dry.  “You will feed at my table for a year, if
the information you share makes it so
Randalf can be found.”

Excited murmurs rose in the room at this announcement.  Heriolf never lacked for blood, his hunting done by others.  To not have to chance human discovery, to not have to prowl all night long for sustenance at the edges of civilization would indeed be a luxury for most.

Then Heriolf offered what he knew would ultimately out the traitor.  He nodded to Naya.  “And a taste of the sweetest blood of all if someone brings him to me, or those who may have been foolish enough to take him away.”

Louder conversation, excitement lighting many a face.  Despite his attempts to keep Naya’s true importance quiet, rumors had spread.  For the Font’s part, she looked at Heriolf with shocked horror.

He gave her a slight shake of his head, assuring her of his lie.  He would never let another taste even one drop of her blood.  She belonged to him alone.

Mollified,
Naya
went back to looking aloof.  Later she would chastise him for offering such a thing, and he would apologize and reaffirm how he would forever look after her, keeping her safe as he had for almost twenty years. 
His profuse exclamations of contrition w
ould even make her feel a little guilty that she had doubted him for even an instant.  Heriolf had been dancing with Naya for most of her life now, and he knew all the steps.  Leading her was as easy as ruling the vampires.

As for anyone who did give him the information he sought, he would offer a few drops of another’s blood in a cup, some young child snatched from its bed perhaps.  Young ones did taste the best, and who would argue that perhaps it was not Naya’s blood?  No one that wanted to keep his second life going.

And if someone suggested he was due a draught straight from the Font herself?  Let the fools only try to sip from her and they will know a final death too horrible to be contemplated.

Naya was his.  Heriolf wasted no conscience on the ethics of double-crossing those who presumed too much.

* * * *

             
It was a battle to keep the grim smile off Elisha’s face.  Randalf had gone to his final death as soon as he’d given up all he knew of the Font.  Considering how he’d helped Heriolf kill so many, including Elisha’s sire, it was justice long overdue.

             
As Heriolf’s ice-brittle gaze swept in his direction, Elisha concentrated on muddying his thoughts.  He pushed forth false
deliberations
of how ironic it would be to eat at Heriolf’s table since the king killed his sire, how lucky he
was
he didn’t have to pay for his sire’s treachery against the mighty ruler.  Perhaps he could find a way to ingratiate himself with Heriolf?  Take the missing Randalf’s place?

Heriolf’s gaze went elsewhere, and Elisha relaxed.  He felt dirty from the false ruminations he’d put forth, for the pretended ill thoughts of his maker,
the
wise
council member
Thaddeus.  Had Elisha loved his birth father so much? 
He thought perhaps not. 
Thaddeus had rescued Elisha from a life of pain and torment, a life of neverending sorrow.  He had owed his sire so much, and
the elder vampire’s
final death had taken away all chances to repay the debt, save one.

You will be avenged, my maker
,
Elisha
thought. 
Or I will go to my final death attempting it.

A long, spare vampire stepped to Heriolf’s side for a brief word. 
Elisha decided Lyndon, who’d been turned barely fifty years prior, must be Randalf’s replacement
.

After
a
quick consultation, Lyndon
call
ed
to the congregation.  “We will begin the ceremony.  Let the new subjects of our master Heriolf step forward to swear their fealty.”

About thirty vampires moved forward towards the seated self-proclaimed king.  Elisha wasn’t interested in any of the supplicants hoping to join the Savannah vampires.  He watched the stone-faced Naya, letting Lyndon’s nasal tones wash over him. 

“You who have joined
King
Heriolf’s realm this last year have drawn numbers.  Let the first step forward and beg the master’s favor.”

The first vampire, a
very
new member of the undead judging from the extravagance of his
multicolored
tattoos, took
a
step forward and knelt on one knee before Heriolf.  “I come from the northeast region where vampires are bid to stay hidden and feed upon the blood of animals.  The leaders there have forgotten our supremacy over the human cattle, upon which we should feed on exclusively. 
King
Heriolf, you are known to keep to the old ways, where a vampire hunts his prey with pride
and feeds well until it dies
.  I swear unto you my loyalty until final death turns my body to ash.”