Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The authorities had been alerted, their neighbors having heard the screams. By time they arrived, Fernando was able to wash and dress properly. He felt much better having decent clothes on, and the dirt of his own grave at the bottom of a wash bin.

The watchmen questioned him, a man who should have been dead, and he explained the matter simply—he'd only been unconscious, his wife knew this and likely bribed the physician and priest to push formalities forward, which resulted in him being buried alive. Then he'd arrived home and found her in bed with the conspiring lover and threw them both out the window. Since she'd attempted murder and committed bribery and adultery, the law was completely on his side for exacting revenge. Their questioning was only a formality before they hauled the bodies away.

Fernando would give Giulia's family the option of claiming her body and burying it. If they did not, she would be tossed into a pauper's grave. He certainly wouldn't give her anything more.

It took half the night for all of this to play out, and it was dawn before he could finally rest. With the rising of the sun, he was beyond fatigued and retired to his own bedchamber, and he did not rise again until that evening. He awoke feeling alert but with an incredible dryness in his throat.

Fernando immediately grabbed the pitcher next to his bed, pouring himself a glass of water and draining the cup. It did nothing to ease his thirst. He poured another, downed it in one long draw, but it didn't help either.

Frustrated, he abandoned the water pitcher, pulled on his robe, and left his bedchamber. He headed toward the staircase landing, aiming for the kitchen downstairs as surely he could find something there to quench his thirst.

The house was quiet, but he could hear some movement about on the first floor. It was barely eight in the evening, after all, so the activity made sense. Perhaps his cook was still here and not gone home to her own family yet, in which case him finding something to assuage his thirst had better odds. If she spared him the trouble of finding him some dinner as well, then all the better. As he neared the bottom of the stairs, he did smell something absolutely delicious, like a siren's call, although he couldn't place the scent. It was no dish he had consumed before, of that he was certain.

Once he reached the base of the stairs, however, he could see clearly into the sitting parlor and the sight there halted him in his tracks. His younger brother, Sebastian, had arrived while he'd slept. His first instinct was to be glad to see him, but why was he kneeling on the floor, covered in blood? It was all over his mouth and chin and…

Fernando's brain slid into a dream-like state, his attention wholly upon the blood before him. He moved forward without any conscious decision, his feet swiftly carrying him across the foyer and into the parlor. He didn't even greet his brother. His entire attention went to the young maid lying in Sebastian's arms, and before he thought the action through, his own arms moved around her and he sank his teeth into her skin.

It was sinfully delicious. He felt the ache in his teeth subside, the dryness in his throat finally quenched. For a long moment, he drank from her neck, the taste of exquisitely hot iron filling his mouth.

After a few minutes he was finally satisfied, so he lifted his head, wiping at his mouth. That was—

Wait.

Wait, what the hell had he just done?

A surreal sort of terror flooded through his mind as he lifted his eyes to meet Sebastian's. Sebastian had a look of horror as he met Fernando's gaze.

"Are we…are we demons?" Sebastian breathed. "I only crave blood."

"I…I don't know."

"Brother, I was told you were dead, but…you seem, uh, well?"

"That's perhaps the least of our worries right now."

The maid in Sebastian's arms moaned feebly, and the sound jolted Fernando into action. He picked her up immediately, carrying her to the nearest office and laying her carefully onto the settee in front of the fireplace. He went through the motions of cleaning her neck and bandaging it before covering her with a blanket. She seemed barely conscious but there was a smile on her face. One of almost…contented pleasure? Her heartbeat was steady, at least, and she didn't seem to be in any danger of the wound turning fatal. Fernando didn't know what else to do and hovered next to the settee, staring at the young girl. None of this made sense. He didn't even eat his steak raw, so why would he crave blood from a human like a beast? And find it to be better than any delicacy he'd ever tried?

Sebastian joined him in the office shortly after he bandaged and settled the maid. He appeared more composed now that he'd washed the blood off his face and smoothed his blond hair, but his green eyes still held a perturbed weight. He spoke in a whisper. "Brother. I heard you awoke in a grave, hale and hearty, after having a terrible accident."

"That's true." Fernando kept his voice hushed as well, turning fully to face Sebastian.

"I, too, awoke this morning feeling not myself. I am stronger than I've ever been in my life. My senses are far too keen. I can see perfectly in pitch darkness. And this poor girl…" Sebastian's eyes trailed over to her and he grimaced. "I spoke with Alessandro in the stables after I arrived, and I had intended to see you right away. But when I entered the house, I saw her and then a hunger like nothing I've ever experienced overtook me. I commanded her to me, and she came as if she was bespelled. I do not understand. Are we cursed?"

"A curse that affects both of us? I've done nothing to warrant it."

"Nor have I, but I do not have any other explanation."

Their father appeared in the office's doorway, his movements quick and frantic, and he only seemed slightly relieved to find two of his sons there. His eyes lingered on the bandaged maid a brief moment before summoning them. "Both of you. Come to the kitchen."

Something else was amiss, it seemed. Fernando obeyed without question, quickly following his father through the foyer, down the first floor's hallway, and toward the back of the house where the kitchen was. He barely breached the kitchen doorway when he noticed his older brother sitting at the table, head in his hands, looking at the wood as if it held all the answers to the mysteries plaguing him.

Alessandro had blood around his mouth, and Fernando knew precisely what had happened without needing any further explanation.

He went to the wash bucket in the corner, dampened a washcloth, then walked back to Alessandro and gently wiped the blood away.

"Sebastian and I fed from a maid," he murmured.

Alessandro's eyes came up to meet his, expression bewildered. "I don't know what came over me. All day, whatever I ate or drank did nothing to satisfy me. I remember informing Sebastian of your survival, and I had intended to follow him into the house after collecting his saddlebag. But then I saw your stablehand and an urge to seize him grew so strong, I was upon him before I knew what I was doing. He did nothing to fight me off, and even after I finished feeding, he smiled while he rested. It was as if he somehow…enjoyed it?"

Sebastian came to stand at their eldest brother's back, putting a comforting hand on Alessandro's hunched shoulders. "The maid was the same. I don't understand what's come over us. Are your senses heightened? Do you find yourself stronger than ever before?"

"I…yes." Alessandro straightened abruptly, eyes locked on their youngest brother's. "I accidentally ripped off a strap from my market wares while trying to tighten it."

"We all seem to have undergone the same transformation, then. Papa? What about you?"

Their father looked perturbed yet thoughtful. "Yes. I as well. My sons, I think we have somehow been altered."

Fernando couldn't think of a single scripture or folklore that matched what they were going through. "What do we do now?"

"We can only live and hope that eventually, we'll have an answer."

Not a reassuring statement to hear.

"If we are to survive, we must hide our nature for now." Sebastian looked nervous. "The church will think us demons. Fernando especially should leave under the cover of darkness. He should be, at the very least, gravely injured from the accident—not walking around and fully healed. We can excuse the burial as a mistake, but not his miraculous health. People in high places will surely ask questions."

Fernando agreed. Leaving was likely the best course of action, at least until he understood the changes within his body. That said…it didn't alter the fact life had just gotten much more difficult. How would he make a living if he was unable to run his business? He couldn't just not go about in society, living like a hermit. It wasn't sustainable. In addition to financial concerns, he apparently needed human blood to survive. In what quantity was the question, but its necessity was obvious. Frankly, he could see no easy path forward, and the uncertainty worried him deeply.

Alessandro banged a fist against the table, the action causing small splinters atop the surface, and he appeared more upset than Fernando had ever seen him. "I do not like this. I do not like this whatsoever. We've businesses to run, lives to live, and I do not want to eke out the rest of my days in shadow. I think it obvious enough we can't stay here. We're too well known in social circles and business districts throughout country."

Fernando saw sense the moment those words left his brother's mouth. Indeed, they could not stay here. They were simply too well known. "I especially cannot remain here. I suppose I must immigrate."

"To where?" Sebastian kept rubbing his temples as if this whole thing had given him a headache. "America?"

"Actually," Father looked thoughtfully at the ceiling. "That might be best. We've branched out to America for our main exports, haven't we? We've a toehold there, so it's not like we'd be starting from scratch. It wouldn't look odd to anyone that we've packed up and moved if we claimed it was due to business pursuits."

Oh, now there was a thought. Fernando saw the first kernel of light since waking up in a grave. He seized upon the avid hope. "We'd need to figure out our new strengths and weaknesses, and most importantly, how much we must feed on humans before boarding a ship. To prepare for the voyage, as it won't be a quick jaunt."

"No, that it won't be," Alessandro sighed. "But it'll take at least a month, perhaps two, to prepare to move over there. If we charter a private vessel, it'll make travel easier on all of us, I think. Fernando, can you hide in the house for two months? It'll be easy for you to feign a slow recovery. We can pay off the watchmen, prevent them from speaking to others about your miraculous condition."

"I can," Fernando assured him. He wouldn't like it one little bit, but he would do it to protect his family. "But a request, since I can't move about. I want each of you to discreetly cast about and see if you find any others who have become like us. I want to offer them all protection and support. Our only hope for the future is if we band together."

"Wise, Son." Father grunted in acknowledgement. "Perhaps we should form a clan? If we find others, that is."

"Yes, precisely so."

Hopefully, they'd be able to safely carve out a new life for themselves.