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Chapter Four

Hundreds of years earlier

The lulling hills of Ireland were a comfort once upon a time. Now, whenever I saw them, all I felt was dread. No matter how far I ran I always ended up here, called by a bond I could not break. And oh, how hard I had tried.

When Adalbert turned me after ambushing me in an alley, laughing when he granted me death and then undeath, I refused to follow him. Shaken and bloodied, I went back to my family. A mistake I regret to this day, even if I couldn’t have known that as I was a newly turned vampire the urge to feed would take over my mind, my body, myhands. My grip pressed bruises into my daughter’s arm as I sank my teeth into her neck. My wife’s screams brought me back to myself too late. There was no other choice but to run. The last image of me my wife and children saw was that of a monster.

Adalbert, as I learned my Sire was called, smiled at me benevolently when I found him and begged him on my knees to show me how to die or how to live without hurting others.

“But Tristan, your life belongs to me now,” he tutted. “You aren’t allowed to die without my say-so. But don’t worry, I will give you a new purpose in life. You just have to serve me and everything is going to be all right.”

I quickly learned serving him included hurting others. I would love to say I was a brave hero who resisted evil but Adalbert had a weapon worse than the supernatural bond between us, through which he could bend my mind to his whims.

“You know, I heard your daughter is getting married this year,” Tristan mentioned offhandedly when I refused an order. “Holmstorm village, such a little, quiet place…. Maybe I should visit. Relax a little.”

My blood froze in my veins. I knew what kind of perversions Adalbert considered relaxing. I would do anything to keep him from my family.

And so I did.

The status quo of me being a lackey, then the right hand of Adalbert, continued for nearly thirty years. Then, one fateful day, I got a missive from a traveling merchant who I had paid to keep an eye on my family. A plague visited Holmstorm. Black Death. Hundreds died because of the sickness. Dozens more were dead because people tried to contain the spread by burning houses with whole families inside.

When I saw the burned husk of my family home I couldn’t help but laugh at the incredible irony of regular people being crueler than an evil vampire lord. I laughed until I cried, until I was on my knees and shaking with grief and rage. That day I decided to kill Adalbert, the person responsible for me missing thirty years of life with my family. Whatever it took, I was going to end him.

The first time Adalbert plucked the plan out of my mind before I could even implement it.

“What’s this? Has my puppy grown enough to bite?” Adalbert asked with glee. He didn’t punish me and the paranoia of waiting for a hammer that did not fall was excruciating.

Months later I made another attempt, which failed spectacularly. That time my Sire brought me to a small village, similar to what Holmstorm was before it was ravaged by the plague.

He slaughtered everyone there and made me watch.

I ran. As far as I could. Countries away, putting seas, hills, and forests between us. If I couldn’t kill him I didn’t want to stay and be an instrument of his crimes. Life as a lone vampire, without the support of Adalbert’s connections and the established web of willing blood donors I had back in Ireland, was tough but, for the first time in years, I started to feel like I could really live again. I traveled, discovering new cultures, learning new languages, working any trade I could. I wasn’t happy but I was content.

Until I felt the Call.

Adalbert was pulling at our vampiric bond, calling me back to Ireland, back to his side, back under his boot. No amount of resistance was enough. When I tried to go the other way my mind blanked and I woke up on the deck of a ship carrying me back home.

Thus, our game of cat and mouse began.

It amused Adalbert to see me wriggle on the hook so he left me go when I ran but he reeled me back in every time.

Once, I launched myself at him with a sword. His eyes flared red and he took control of my body through our bond. The sharp blade intended for him pierced my own flesh. Adalbert could have easily killed me but he told me to skewer my leg instead. He wasn’t so merciful as to give me the release of death.

That cruelty was his undoing because I discovered immense pain was enough to disrupt the bond, even if only for a second, when he told me to pull the blade out and stab myself again andhe had to repeat himself for the order to take effect. From that overwhelming pain my next plan was born.

I waited until the next big summit; every ten years or so Adalbert Called every poor wretch he made into a vamp to himself. This year there were twenty-one of us. Everyone was different but no matter if it was a scrawny teenage sailor, a noble lady, or a weaponsmith built like a brick house, we had one thing connecting us: shared hatred for our Sire.

Inevitably, one of us sparked Adalbert’s ire. The old vampire made me administer the punishment to the cowering merchant, who had been under Adalbert’s control for over two centuries.

I had a lethally sharp sword in hand, the blade of which had been enriched with silver carvings. It was Adalbert’s favorite little toy because even the smallest cut caused immense pain to a vampire, due to the silver which was one of our weaknesses.

Adalbert stood just behind me, urging me to put the sword into the fire to make the punishment even more painful. I did as I was told and watched the blade turn red hot.

Then I swung to strike.

Adalbert’s eyes flared red.

The connection between our souls twanged a discordant note but the order to obey him didn’t take hold of my mind. It was lost in the agony of me cutting my own hand off.