Page 10 of Blood from the Marrow
Librada straightened, but Elena could feel her clenched jaw even if she couldn’t see it. The retired soldier in her fixated on respect for the chain of command. But Narine was no longer her subject.
“How old is the oldest vampire?” Marisol’s gaze darted around the room as if she might devise the answer to the question.
“Here?” She shrugged. “Halima is slippery about her age, but given what she knows about the Catholics taking over her home in Ethiopia… I would say she’s the eldest among us at four hundred or so.”
Zuri looked like she’d regretted leaving her phone in their room upstairs. She never mentioned it, but the idea of vampires living so long made her uneasy.
“But if you can potentially live forever?—”
“Then where are all the ancient vampires?” Elena guessed with a little smirk. It was a good observation. One that often took others years to make.
Marisol nodded.
“As vampires age, they require blood far less often. As the hunger fades, they become more insular and the further away from humanity they get.”
“Will that happen to you?” Marisol’s eyes were wide with curiosity and a lightning strike of fear Elena meant to erase.
“No, I’ve always been insatiable,” she promised with a wicked grin.
The lights dimmed, signaling that the show was about to start. Elena relaxed into the soft upholstery, one arm around Zuri’s shoulders and the other hooked around Marisol’s waist, hand resting on her hip.
Before the lights went out completely, a circular curtain of white sheets dropped from an unseen rig in the ceiling and landed around the stage. A moment later, violin strings sighed to life, and the ballroom went dark.
At the center of the room, a light illuminated the stage. It turned the sheet suspended from the ceiling a bright white, reminding Elena of a modern lantern.
Shadows rose from the stage and danced against their canvas like smoke billowing halfway up the cylinder. Cellos, playing low and slow, joined the increasingly bright violins.
“What is this?” Marisol whispered against her ear.
“Lilith stepping out of the primordial chaos,” Elena explained just as quietly.
Marisol looked away from the stage. With her pretty eyes she said…What?
Elena’s chuckle rumbled in her throat. It was a bit of bullshit to her too, but that’s how the creation myth went. “Lilith emerged powerful and independent. When the old patriarchal gods had no use for that, she turned her attention to the mortal world. It was too insignificant for anyone else’s attention, so she made the realm hers.”
Discordant trumpets clashed with the elegant violins to represent strife and struggle. It grew louder until the brass overcame the strings and the light above the stage turned red. Marisol’s heart beat faster with each change in the music. Elena could nearly feel the increased tempo in her own pulse.
“She spilled her blood, the Blood of Eternity, into her seven daughters.” The red light dimmed until it nearly faded completely. “Lilith kept only a drop of blood for herself. Only enough to stave off death.”
Elena didn’t add that this was a warning about how dangerous it was to birth new vampires. That like mortal women, procreation for vampires was an awesome power with tremendous risk. The process brought the mother close to death, making her vulnerable in her sacrifice until she recovered.
The music faded away to silence. Marisol held her breath until a single violin played as lightly as a butterfly landing on a petal. A shadow torch floated from the base of the screen, the faint red light from above morphing back to its original bright white.
“Hecate,” Elena whispered before Marisol asked. “She guided her sisters out of the dark and remained at the gate between the worlds to guard it.” Shadow dogs ran along the bottom, chasing something. “Her dogs guide and protect the crossroads between the mortal and immortal realm.”
One of the dogs leapt from the pack, showing them what they’d been running after. A massive peahen in flight took over the scene when the dogs and torch fell away. At least Sayah hadn’t gone with a peacock this year.
“Hera,” Elena explained. “She is confidence, protection, vengeance.”
The bird flew with its beak parted in a screech before it erupted into a nest of snakes. Slithering in all directions, their movements were slow and uncanny.
“Medusa. Rebirth and transformation.” She leaned closer, lips brushing against Marisol’s jaw. “She’s responsible for our ability to slip into minds and exert influence or control. It’s only a fraction of what she could do with her snakes. Imagine being able to coerce a mind into shutting down each of its organs one by one,” she added in open awe.
When Marisol turned her head over her shoulder, her eyes were wide with horror. At their side, Zuri shook her head and offered an amused little smile. She was listening, even if she was feigning disinterest.
The mass of snakes tangled and knotted until they became a single creature. An enormous cobra reared up and flicked its long tongue at the crowd. Reflexively, Marisol and Zuri tensed when it opened its maw like it might swallow them whole.
“Cleopatra,” Elena said even though she expected it might be obvious. “A cunning and shrewd mind concealed inside lethal beauty.” The cobra darted at them again. “The fangs lack a bit of subtlety,” she added with a shrug.
