Page 20 of Taste of Fate

“You can call them cults. No one here will be offended,” Cyan said.

“Hey, Temkra’s Blood isn’t so bad,” Laith piped up. “They’re a deeply religious bunch but never give us any trouble.”

“So, where are your immediate family members?” I asked. “If most of Blood 'til Dawn is extended family, where are your parents and siblings?”

“All of our parents are dead,” Desmond stated bluntly. “As for siblings, that’s actually rare for vampires. Because we live so long, the flip side is that our species has difficulty conceiving. Most families only have one child, if they have any at all.”

“But your parents?” A chill crept up my spine as the vampires exchanged hard looks. “None of you are so old that your parents have already passed on, right?”

“Not of natural causes,” Cyan said cautiously.

“We were at war with the werewolves for a few hundred years,” Des said in a low voice. “It was mostly our parents’ generation. Thousands of them were killed as a result.”

“They’re called the lost generation,” Laith said. “Most vampires alive now were children during that war.” He gestured around the great room. “That includes just about everyone in Blood ‘til Dawn.”

“Rhain was grown back then.” Des crossed his arms. “So was Kalix.”

Cyan stiffened at the mention of Kalix’s name, which I might not have noticed if I hadn’t been hyperaware of his presence. He didn’t move or say a word, but I could sense his energy change. The warmth of him became a block of ice.

I glanced at Bea, who was more of an open book. Her expression became distant and saddened. I knew Kalix was the guy in the photo next to Cyan, and they both clearly had some connection to him. But it seemed neither was eager to talk.

“I bet Rhain just fuckin’ bulldozed some werewolves.” Laith laughed. “Kal did too, probably.”

“Why were you at war with the wolves?” Even I’d known about the animosity between werewolves and vampires. The species’ mutual hatred of each other was common knowledge, but I never knew the origins of it.

“That’s a great question,” Des said. “What actually happened is lost to history, but if you ask me,” he rubbed his chin, gaze flitting over his fellow vampires, “I think we started it.”

“Ugh, slander,” Cyan complained.

“Werewolf blood is supposed to taste like liquid gold or something,” Des explained to me. “So the most common theory is one of us drank from a wolf, their pack retaliated violently, we answered with more violence, the wolves retaliated again, angels sided with wolves, dragons sided with us, and so on.”

“For hundreds of years, that’s all it was,” Cyan tacked on.

“Anyway, going back to the clans.” Des steered the conversation back on topic. “There weren’t really vampire clans back in those days, about five hundred years back. Family units sure, but we were all just vampires, right?”

“Except for the Marrowers,” Laith interrupted. “They’ve always kinda done their own thing.”

“Sure, but the clans started because everyone disagreed on how to handle the wolves. Some wanted to invade their territory and enslave them and shit. Others wanted to move into the human world and carve out a space for us there. So there were lots of divides, lots of factions. And despite werewolves already killing plenty of us, the clan disagreements never stopped. So we turned to fighting our kind.”

“We do love spilling blood almost as much as drinking it,” Laith mused.

“Don’t scare her,” Bea chastised.

“It’s fine, really.” I brought a palm up. “Humans love going to war on each other too. That’s part of why Sapien’s founders left the human world. It’s a big part of our history too, so I get it.”

“Shortly after the clans formed, one of them–probably an extinct one, the details have been lost–declared themselves the ruling clan of Sanguine.” Des spread his hands out to the sides, a wry smile on his lips. “And their leader said if anyone didn’t like it, they could fight for the title. Well, someone did and won. So then they became the ruling clan.”

“That didn’t last long,” I muttered.

“And that’s basically how it went for the last four hundred years,” Des said. “Clans got wiped out or absorbed into alliances. Leaders were crowned and then toppled. For centuries, it was a bloody, violent mess for power. And we were actively at war with the werewolves until about a hundred years ago.”

“But something changed recently?” My gaze swept over the vampires, who each stood a little taller. “How does Blood 'til Dawn fit in to all this?”

“Our ancestors were violent when necessary, but the founders of Blood ‘til Dawn were a more diplomatic sort,” Cyan said. “Our generation learned to work quietly from our forebears. Thorne and his inner circle negotiated with smaller clans and gathered support in the shadows, rather than vye for the ruling seat in the spotlight. When we made our bid for the top spot, it was nearly a hundred years in the making. By then we had set up the blood bank, restored businesses, and made the streets safer for our resident vampires and humans. Over half of Sanguine supported us but the leaders still had to battle.”

“And you won it?” I asked eagerly. He and Des were equally good storytellers, but I was fixated on Cyan. “Thorne fought and won?”

“He did.” Cyan grinned. “Get him drunk enough and he’ll show you the scars from the fight.”

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