Page 11 of A Touch of Madness

“Sabotaged?” The scarred vampire laughs maniacally, a sound that echoes ominously through the chamber. “Of course it was. They saw you for what you are—weak. And they’ve done us a favor, really. Now you have no choice but to remember what it means to be real vampires.”

“Real vampires?” I speak before Dorian has a chance to respond, my voice slicing through the growing tension. “You mean beasts. Creatures of pure instinct, with no thought beyond the next kill. You call that real? It’s feral. Inhumane. You are draining and slaughtering humans with no regard for life.”

His grin widens. “I call it being free. Not leashed like dogs, begging scraps from humans who would rather see us dead. You’ve let them tame you. You’ve let them make you forget what we are.”

“Enough!” Dorian slams his hand upon the table, the sound reverberating through the chamber like a thunderclap. “We didn’t come here to debate philosophy. We came to discuss how to resolve this crisis. If ever there were a time to come together, it should be when an entire covenant of people wants to see us wiped out from the earth. Yes, this is about blood, but for those of you who don’t care, it’s also about our potential extinction. Have you no regard for that?” He lets out a long sigh, looking to each faction. “How are we going to resolve this?”

“Resolve?” Kristoff leans back, feigning amusement with a wide-eyed gaze. “There’s nothing toresolve. The solution is simple—hunt. Feed. Take what we need, as we always should have.”

“That is no solution,” I snap. “It’s a declaration of war. Against humans. Against each other. How do you not see how bad this is going to get? And quickly? As Dorian said, even aside from the blood issue, there’s a much larger issue at hand with the Solstice Society. And it includes all of us, regardless of how we’ve divided ourselves up.”

“War is already at your doorstep,” Kristoff replies, his voice deadly calm. “You’re just too frightened to admit it. What do the kids say nowadays? It’s veryon-brandfor your weakened kind.”

The argument erupts like a tempest, each faction clinging to its ideology with an almost desperate fervor, as if holding on for dear life.

The Ascendancy, predictably, takes the first swing. "This crisis demands order," declares their second-in-command, Tobias, a tall vampire with hair so pale it gleams like stubborn moonlight. His voice carries the clipped cadence of someone who has rarely been questioned. "Our priority should be the preservation of our kind. We must consolidate resources, fortify our estates, and ensure that those of value are protected."

“Of value?” spits Dorian, his hand curling into a fist on the table. “What are the rest of us, then? Cannon fodder?”

Tobias regards him with a cold, mocking smile. “If the shoe fits.”

Before Dorian can retort, a sharp laugh cuts through the rigidity. It comes from the scarred vampire, who leans back in his chair with the smug satisfaction of someone watching a circus. “I quite love this,” Kristoff says, gesturing lazily at the Ascendancy. “Always the same song. Hide in your mansions, count your gold, and pretend the world isn’t burning outside your gates. You lot are a relic.”

“Better a relic than a rabid beast,” Tobias snaps with venom. “Yourkind—if we can even dare to call it that—are the reason we’re in this godforsaken position to begin with.”

“Please,” Kristoff drawls, his grin stretching wider. “Don’t flatter yourself with the illusion that anyone cares enough about you to sabotage this truce. The Solstice Society targeted you and your precious bagged blood because they know you’re the weakest of our three factions. And they know that when your hunger sets in, the Midnight Alliance will crumble first. You are so far removed from this life, it’s downright laughable. May as well be humans yourselves.” He glances at me with deliberate contempt. “The only thing holding you together is denial.”

Dorian rises, his calm façade fracturing. “We agreed to peace because we believed in a better way,” he says, his voice rising in a passionate crescendo. “Not for ourselves, but for the future of our kind and for civilization as a whole.”

“Peace?” Another Unbound vampire, a wiry figure with sunken eyes, sneers, his voice dripping with contempt. “You call this peace? Feeding from plastic bags like livestock? Bowing to humans?” He scoffs and crosses his arms firmly over his chest, looking to Vada, Kristoff’s lover. “If we had it our way, humans would be the inferior species. We’d keep them like cattle and farm them like the no-good nothings they are. We would be the premier species.”

“It’s survival,” Tobias retorts.

“It’s pathetic,” Kristoff vampire interjects. He spreads his hands as if addressing children. “Listen closely, little lambs. The humans hate us. Always have, always will. The blood packs didn’t change that. You’ve just found your army of desperation—humans who will willingly give you blood in exchange for a cheap vampire-fuck. They’re just a leash. And now that leash is gone.”

The room erupts into chaos, a whirlwind of shouting and acrimony. The Ascendancy demands silence while the Unbound revel in the uproar, yelling and raving like feral fools. Dorian tries to restore order, but his voice is swallowed by the cacophony.

I have heard enough.

“This isn’t sustainable,” I declare, my voice rising above the din, sharp as a blade, cutting through the mayhem.

The room stills. All eyes turn to me.

“The Solstice Society is the true enemy here,” I continue. “They’ve orchestrated this crisis with the sole purpose of sowing discord among us. And, by the looks of it, it’s working.”

The silence that follows is palpable, heavy with tension.

“What do you propose, dear Lucian?” Tobias speaks first, his tone a mixture of condescension and genuine curiosity. “Another noble speech about unity?” He makes a motion like he’s jerking his century-old cock and rolls his eyes.

How mature.

“No.” I meet his gaze coldly. “A plan. We locate the stolen blood packs. We expose the Solstice Society for the threat they are, and we take them out before they can take us out. And until then, we survive—without tearing each other apart.”

“And if we don’t find the packs?” Kristoff leans forward, his grin returning. His eyes glint with amusement, as though he’s enjoying this far too much. “How long do you think your precious peace will last when hunger sets in? A week? Two?”

I meet his gaze unflinchingly. “We will find them. And in the interim, we’ll start rebuilding our reserve.” I look around at the other members of the Midnight Society, who still look unsure, nervous, but who nod along anyway.

“You’d better hope so,” Kristoff says, his voice low and mocking. “Because when this alliance crumbles—and it will—don’t come crying to us. We’ll be busy thriving. The way our kind was meant to.”

---