Page 16 of Forty Deaths Till Us Part

I arched an eyebrow. “You have become friends with him?”

She nodded. “Yeah. He wrote me a song. It’s hard to explain. But I really care for him. As a friend.”

“I know what you mean. Isra and I had that connection from the moment we met.”

“Well, I’m not having babies with him, if that is what you are thinking. I love my life and my dad, but I do want a more conventional relationship. No offense.”

“None taken. I want you to be happy.”

Rene stood. “May we walk you out, Jana?”

She nodded, but as we approached the door, Rene’s phone beeped. He glanced at the screen. “That was Manu. He found something he wishes me to look at.”

CHAPTER 6

Many of the men in the foyer glanced at my daughter as we escorted her to the main entrance of the mansion. There were fewer clan members gathered in the grand foyer as it was less than an hour from dawn. Even though many vampires didn’t require much sleep, they tended to retire to their rooms during the day for quiet activities.

Jana gave me a quick hug before she slipped through the door. Her car was sitting at the end of the canopy, and I waited till she got in before I turned to Rene.

“Are we meeting Manu in the conference room?”

Rene nodded and placed his hand on my back as he led me through the foyer to the hallway. We passed several distinguished-looking portraits in the hall before I stopped in front of one of them.

In the dimly-lit hallway, I found myself drawn to a portrait hanging on the wall, a perfect replica from a bygone era. My gaze locked onto the image of an older man, whose presence seemed to emanate from the canvas itself. I knew he was a vampire by the otherworldly gaze in his eyes. Years that had passed since he walked the earth, but it hadn’t dulled the intensity of his painting.

His eyes seemed to cut into an onlooker’s soul, as if he were whispering secrets only a vampire understood. They were a shade of indigo and held mysteries as ancient as time itself. They conveyed his life experiences. Both the joys and sorrows of a life that had spanned centuries.

His face was a medley of sharp angles and soft curves. A timeless embodiment of both danger and charisma. His pale skin, a porcelain canvas, was a stark contrast to the rich darkness of his hair cascading in untamed waves over his shoulders. The moonlight filtering through the chamber he sat in during the portrait’s creation seemed to kiss his features, highlighting the regal arch of his brows and the chiseled line of his jaw.

The clothing he wore, a medley of velvet and lace that draped his rigid torso, expressed his importance in the era in which he lived. A high-collared red cloak billowed behind him, adding an air of mystery and a hint of the supernatural. As my eyes roamed over his attire, I imagined the nights when he prowled the cobbled streets, a shadow amongst shadows.

But it was his expression that held my attention—a delicate balance of sorrow and yearning, as if he had lost his connection to the light and walked in eternal darkness. His full lips held a hint of a melancholic smile, one that hinted at untold secrets.

“You must have lost a lot of people over the years. It must be hard for you to walk these halls.”

Rene glanced at the painting. “Many of my brethren have passed in the last two thousand years, but Mortas was not one of them. He was the overseer prior to Siam. He was a young overseer and Siam was a skilled fighter. There are several scrolls that say Siam tricked him and his death was not true.”

“I’m sure some men would use anything in their arsenal to bring down a stronger opponent.”

Rene nodded. “The story suggests Mortas was entombed and there was no true ascension, but that was thousands of years ago, and he would be long dead by now, regardless of how he was killed.”

I shivered. “I hope it was a fight. Buried alive and left to die of starvation. That is about as bad as it gets.”

Rene nodded. “Especially for a vampire. It could take hundreds of years for the body to fully give up in such conditions.”

I placed my hand on my stomach. “That’s horrible. Let’s head to the conference room.” We passed another young couple just before we reached our destination, and they nodded respectfully at Rene.

Manu’s head popped up as we entered the conference room, and it was impossible not to detect the excitement on his face. “Rene, look at this.” His shiny black hair fell in his eyes when he moved and he shook it away as he pointed to a strange scroll.

Rene moved to his side of the long table so he could read the scroll Manu had unfurled on the table. “That is the last will and testament of Count Vladir. He was a clan head when Siam was the overseer, but became an author after his duties ended. I liked him. He died fifteen hundred years ago.”

Manu rubbed his chin. “How did he die, Rene?”

“He was murdered. I assumed it was a monster hunter. They were still active at that time in our history.”

“Maybe, but look at the scroll next to the light.” He stood and placed the ancient parchment in front of a wall sconce.

Rene leaned forward as a small mark appeared. “That is a witch’s mark. Specifically, Magda’s. What is it doing here and how was it imbued in the scroll?”