Page 28 of Resurrection
Tresler. The name brought a handful of images to mind. Gabe worked to not grab for them, instead letting them come and go, settling where they would. Mundane things, like meetings, or perceived conversations, but a bitterness lingered. Not emotionally, but more as a taste. Like some bitter reminder of a flavor. He caught the image of a bottle that seemed to be filled with blood.
“Did we drink blood from bottles?” He asked before really thinking about it.
Seiran sucked in a painful breath, but his gaze met Gabe’s. “It’s what he used to gain control of the vampires. Tainting the food supply with his blood. It’s not on the market anymore. Vampires have to get their blood the old-fashioned way.”
“Hunting for it?” Gabe asked, knowing that couldn’t be true.
“Yes, and no,” Seiran agreed. “Blood must be given freely. It can be bought from donors, like the packets in the freezer at home, or fresh from the vein if it’s consensual.”
Gabe caught another flash memory of a club with willing donors who were all dying. The smell of their impending deaths foul. He could recall he’d fed from more than one throat there. It made his stomach clench. Hunger. He shouldn’t be hungry already. But even dying blood, fresh from a vein sounded better than something from a packet.
“There were clubs?” Gabe asked quietly, sensing it was a bad topic, but wanting some clarification.
“They are all gone. At least as far as I know. Outlawed,” Seiran’s tone was clipped and he didn’t look up.
“The donors were not willing?” Gabe wondered.
“The donors were often too far gone to realize they were being murdered.”
“Some of them were addicts. Not drugs,” Page added quickly, “but of being bitten. I guess the allure of vampires is a thing?” His gaze looked over Gabe as though there was some sign saying this is what people liked about vampires. “In the bite, maybe? Not that you’re unattractive, Mr. Santini. I just mean… well, I’ve given blood, to like the Red Cross, before. And it wasn’t something I’d say would be addicting.”
“There is mind magic in their bite,” Seiran said. “To make it hurt less. It is part of what creates the bond to eventually make someone a vampire. Without the bites, and the magic, there would be no vampire.”
“Right,” Page agreed. “I think I remember reading that. Not sure I’d want my mind taken over like that.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way,” Gabe said. “The bite doesn’t have to hurt, even without the bond.” He could recall that was the reason vampires seduced their prey. It wasn’t like a human salivating over a hamburger. If the hamburger could fight back, maybe. But humans took to pretty words, and romantic interludes, easily enough. “Vampires don’t like to create those bonds. It leaves a little of them with each person they feed on.”
He could recall the feeling of having too many tied to him, even in small ways. It became a lot of noise. Changing someone to a vampire would shift the drain to a battery to charge the vampire, but it was a lot of work to get there. More vampires under one Sire made the Sire more powerful, but too many bound servants became an issue. Unbound they died quickly, weeks maybe? He seemed to recall a handful of things that happened from a vampire feeding too often on one particular human.
Gabe hugged himself and concentrated on his breathing for a minute as the memories fell into place. Not everything, not even by a quarter, but bits of how vampires functioned, adapted, and survived. Rules, guidelines, and eventually the Tri-Mega had kept control.
“The Tri-Mega?” Gabe asked, suddenly remembering faces, Tresler among others.
“Gone. All of them. There is no real ruling body of vampires anymore. Though Max gets pretty pissy if a vampire steps out of line. Usually sends Sam to take care of it,” Seiran said. “Each Master, the head of whatever city, is to control his or her nest. Max handles a lot of overseas stuff too, but I don’t think he wants total world domination. People in general seem to irritate him when they ask for too much.”
Another memory. Tresler again being broken apart by plants. Hadn’t Max said Sam had done that? “Sam took out Tresler?”
“And Galloway before him.”
Page laughed. “I knew that guy was a badass.”
“Don’t say that anywhere he can hear. His head is big enough,” Seiran said.”
“Sam…” Gabe wished more of those memories would come back, but it was still shattered, the shards too small to piece together.
“He’s not been a vampire that long. But he’s also a witch, so maybe that’s part of it. Forest, come sit in that chair,” Seiran directed the golem.
Page paled, hands gripping the counter of his desk, gaze on the golem. Did it frighten him? The existence of it? Or could he sense the power trying to regain control?
The golem moved, crossing the room and dropping into the chair. The fidgeting had stopped at least. Though Gabe still felt a tugging at it, like something was trying to call it, but all of that noise was muffled by the witch’s strength.
“Forest?” Page asked.
“The golem’s name,” Seiran said. “Can you pull all the books on golems and death magic from the archive? I think there are three or so. Though I don’t recall anything on vampires being used for this sort of thing. Or of actual souls being trapped inside.”
“Sure,” Page replied slowly, backing toward another doorway. “Vampire souls? Who would have thought to use them to create a golem?”
“Call the families first,” Seiran reminded him. “Get them back in here. I have to find out where they got it from.”