The Council Of Vampires

Cowardice is our greatest enemy. And the most shameful defeat is when we lose because we are too afraid to fight and too afraid of the thought of defeat.

The Council Of Vampires

Jo had dark circles under her eyes and was silent all day. At first, we weren't worried, but this had been going on for a week. After the third class, she even disappeared. There was nothing to be done, Alex was quite clearly poking his head towards the door, so with a sigh I went in search of the human girl. I headed straight for our secluded little bench. Jo was indeed, sitting alone in the cold.

"What's wrong?" I asked, sitting down beside her.

She sighed but didn't answer. I nudged her playfully in the side with my elbow.

"Nothing," she sighed.

I was not really satisfied with the answer. But before I could open my mouth to speak again, Jo stood up and left me. She stood up and left me. Without a word or a goodbye. I pursed my lips into a sharp line.

I stood up and walked as grimly as possible back to the school building. Jo didn't come in for her next class, she must have gone home. Well, that didn't really improve my mood.

"How was it, mate?" Alex asked.

He wasn't really bothered by the fact that it was the middle of physics class. Neither was I when I walked into the classroom, but whatever.

"She refused to tell me anything," I said.

"Women," Alex sighed, then slid closer, "So, what did you do?"

I raised my eyebrows.

"Nothing."

Alex frowned. "Come on, mate, you can tell me, I won't judge."

Says the prejudiced werewolf who hates all dark mages. Sure, I get that dark mages sometimes like to use werewolf entrails for their potions, but not all of them.

"So, what did you do to hurt her?"

Alice asked from the bench behind us.

"Nothing," I growled, "I really did nothing."

My two friends looked at each other in disbelief, but I didn't care.

(...)

"Gangster!" a guy shouted triumphantly.

"Close, very close, but not close enough," the Weasel shook his head.

The youngsters finally got tired of guessing and decided to rather try to buy up the entire stock of drinks in the pub. I went out for one last round and decided to take a short cigarette break. Unfortunately, the Weasel also decided to step out into the moonlight just then. Trying to ignore it, I took out my cigarette, lit it and took a puff.

"Can I have a light?" he said.

I wanted to throw my lighter to the ground for him to pick it up, but I reluctantly handed it to him.

He took the cigarette between his lips, lit it, and after a quick puff, handed it back to me.

"Why don't you just tell them?"

He chuckled softly. "What would be the fun in that?"

I sighed deeply.

"I don't really want them to find out," he said, and then added with a hint of mischief in his voice, "After all, how many enemies would I make the moment they found out I was working for Behemoth?"

I did not answer.

"I'm starting to like these guys," he admitted, "It would suck if they all turned on me because of one secret."

Although I was surprised, for the first time in my life I fully understood what he was talking about. I wondered how much it would affect them if everyone knew who my father was.

I smoked my cigarette and without another word, I stepped into the stuffy air of the pub. A bitter, and perhaps a little resigned smile tugged at Weasel's lips. We both knew that we would never be friends — although, it must be said, that was not up to him.

I was sliding a bottle of beer across the bar towards one of the customers when an all-too-familiar scent wafted into my nostrils. I could still hear the guy mumbling a thank you, but I didn't pay much attention.

The black-haired girl tried to make her way subtly from the door to the bar, then slid onto a sympathetic leather-covered stool. I turned to the next customer.

"How may I help you, miss?", I said with an engaging smile.

Coffee looked up at me, confused. I was surprised to see me in a place like this.

"Do you work here?" she asked, glancing around with barely a glance.

It was a really obvious question, so I didn't answer. Maybe she thought she was in the wrong place, but then she decided to ask just in case because she spoke again.

"I've heard there's a monster here..." she said, lowering his voice, "who will do things for the right amount of money. Do you happen to know who it is?"

I pulled my lips into a real predatory grin as I nodded. Coffee's eyes widened in disbelief and she eyed me for a long moment.

"So, you mean to tell me I came all the way here to meet you?" she questioned.

"It seems so," I replied.

"Why do you do it?" she asked, "I didn't think you moved in such circles."

I shrugged. "It's a side hustle."

I'm not saying Coffee had her world shattered, but she had a more nuanced view of my character, that's for sure. If she found out before Christmas, she'd probably get up and walk out the door without another word.

She frowned for a moment, then blurted out what she wanted. "You're the informant of the hunters as well?"

"Uh-huh," I said, "One expresso, right?"

She was a little surprised at my offer but finally nodded slowly.

"Okay," I've already started preparing it anyway.

"I'd like to ask you something," she started.

I nodded. She looked around suspiciously. There weren't many people around the bar, and those at the tables had already a few shots.

"Are you sure it's safe to do this?" she asked doubtfully.

I pointed towards Weasel's desk. "Do you see them? Those guys are having a discussion about your ass, but other than that they're not really interested in you."

Coffee blushed from ear to ear.

Then I pointed to the two drunken pals in the corner of the room. "One of them is so drunk he can't count to ten, and the other is asleep."

I glanced upstairs, where a vampire was drinking his zero negative. "He's probably already spotted your presence and is trying to figure out how to leave without you spotting him. Oops, he noticed you saw him. If you tell, daddy's gonna be pissed. Although I suppose that's true in your case, too. Hm, Berg is certainly willing to compromise."

Coffee's lips parted. "Berg! What is he doing here?!"

"He pops in for a drink or two now and then," I shrugged, "He's the one who whispers the news of the nobility. Not to me, of course, but it's sure to get to me. I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention it to Daddy."

Lastly, I pointed to a lone faery. "She over there waiting for us to finish talking. She wants to... um, get to know me better."

Coffee blushed again.

"Don't worry," I said, "fae are not my type."

As the saying goes, every saint has his hand out for himself. This is especially true for the fae. They are selfish creatures — in bed too.

"How do you know all this?" she asked.

Although her face remained expressionless, her eyes sparkled with curiosity.

"I hear it," I replied simply.

Coffee narrowed her eyes. "You hear it."

"My hearing is very acute," I explained, "I can hear your heartbeat, for example. Although it's harder to tell with a vampire, I think you're worried and maybe a little desperate. You coming to see me confirms that."

She nodded.

"We are trying to weaken the Fifth's forces," she explained, "Most of the ignobles have joined, the rest have remained neutral and don't seem willing to help us. We've come to the point where we're trying to cut off supplies from the Fifth's forces."

"How do you plan to do that?", I asked, pushing the coffee in front of her.

She thanked me quietly and took a sip. She looked at me incredulously, then remarked that it was delicious. I don't know what she expected if I'm a hell of a good bartender.

"I need the names of all the vampire blood dealers," she said, "We plan to take them all out in one night."

"Hm," I wondered. "I don't think you'd accomplish anything with this."

"What do you mean?" she questioned me, a little offended.

"I mean that the dealers are just expendable pawns. They're hunted all the time, but their number doesn't decrease the slightest," I said, shrugging my shoulders.

"That's why we should eliminate them all at once!" she insisted.

I sighed, and only then explained: "Don't you think they have a few dozen humans in stock for emergencies? They don't kill the victims immediately, they feed on them for a while, so you won't see any significant weakening even if you cut off their supply."

"How do you know that?"

"I guessed," I replied.

If you look at how many people are kidnapped every day, there should be far more victims than the number of vengeful ghosts that have latched onto me. It would also be the right thing to do strategically.

"This is just a desperate last-ditch effort on your part," I added, as her hands clenched into fists.

She was probably aware of that, but now that I had said it to her face without a frown, she could no longer deny it to herself.

"What do you suggest then?" she asked quietly

"Hm, difficult question," I wondered. "If I were you, I would recruit Crimson first. Only a real king can compete with an up-and-coming king-to-be.

"That's it," she answered frustrated, "Crimson doesn't want to get into the fight for some reason."

"Interesting," I said, "Then you'll have to gather allies from elsewhere. If there are no others, you'll have to hire mercenaries. Mages, if possible, of the darkest kind."

She thought about that, then nodded.

"Are you going to fight, too?" I inquired.

"If necessary, yes," she said.

This was the answer I did not want to hear.

(...)

Coffee was obviously nervous and would have liked to run out of the room. Nevertheless, she pulled herself together and glanced stealthily towards his father. At least I thought the bloodsucker might be his father. The ancient vampire sat calmly, he dominated the atmosphere of the room. He looked menacing enough to be taken seriously, yet he remained deadly calm.

Coffee sucked in a breath and forced herself to calm down. She certainly wanted to make a good impression on the nobles. She took stock of the thirteen vampires at the table, chosen by the Crimson King to be his court. I did no differently.

Next to his father sat an ancient vampire, small in stature and with a catfish moustache. Next to him sat a soldierly-looking man, followed by a tall, bony vampire with a very sunken face, one of those who only appear at councils in emergencies. The sickly-looking man sat with a taut posture, his whole being radiating elegance and danger that was indeed, without doubt, the exclusive characteristic of ancient vampires. Somehow, when you looked at him, the hair stood up on the back of your neck.

I knew the next vampire personally. Bazil Bonazzi was the youngest member of the council — certainly in appearance. One look at him and you got the impression he was a hooligan in his twenties. He was the only one who, during such a serious meeting, allowed himself to cross his legs casually and grin wryly.

Next to him sat Lubelle, famous among vampires for her beauty. This was usually accentuated by her unashamedly low cleavage. Sometimes Bazil would whisper something to Lubelle, who would turn her head to the side in disapproval.

Anyone who wasn't stupid could clearly see that he was trying to get her to stay the night. Of course, Lubelle wasn't the kind of vampire who was easy to bed. She was confident, noble, and fully aware of her beauty — most vampires only dreamed about her glancing at them.

Most vampires I didn't even try to remember the names of. Somehow, vampires had a way of choosing names that the longer and uglier someone's name, the nobler. Therefore, it was quite common for someone to have a second, third, or even fourth first name. Although usually only up to two of these were used regularly. That's why I recognised most of them mostly from descriptions I'd picked up here and there.

"Have you been successful?" asked Mr. Blutkaiser.

One of the vampires put some papers on the table.

"The names of all the dealers," he added.

Mr. Blutkaiser nodded.

"I think the mobilization of our private armies will suffice," said another.

Coffee took a deep breath. Then another. Her heart was pounding and she could feel her palms sweating. Though she was sure her father had taken her to the Council meeting merely to be a silent observer and gain experience, I was sure she would surprise the bloodsuckers assembled. Even if her father would punish her for her insolence.

"I wish to speak."

Every single gaze snapped to her. Coffee must have felt the pressure, which had already seemed unbearable, increase a hundredfold. I saw her fingers tremble, barely perceptible. Well, to be honest, I wouldn't have been in her shoes either. Still, she pulled herself out even more, running her determined gaze over each pair of eyes.

In addition to the piercing glances, a few returned her gaze without hostility, Lubelle looking more interested, and Bazil grinning and winking. I was sure Coffee had taken a lot of strength from the young vampire's encouragement. It meant that there was at least one councillor who would be willing to listen to him. Mr. Blutkaiser narrowed his eyes and watched her. And Coffee stood his stern, searching gaze.

"You are not a councillor, Izidora," her father reminded her, "You have no right to ask to speak."

Coffee didn't flinch at the cold statement, and I felt like nodding in satisfaction.

"Come now, Aida," Bazil said, "She's not a member of the Council yet, but she will be in the future, won't she?

Mr. Blutkaiser thought for a moment. 

"You may speak."

"Thank you," Coffee began, "I submit that the plan to cut off the supply of vampires is doomed to failure. It is more than likely that the humans are stored and used for days maybe even weeks before they get replaced, so there is no significant weakening to speak of."

The room was silent for a moment.

"A correct observation, Miss Blutkaiser," said the short and ancient vampire, 'We are counting on that eventuality."

Coffee looked visibly surprised for a moment, then straightened her features.

"Forgive me, Sir, but in the light of this, I don't see the point of dealing with the dealers," said the vampire girl.

"Of course, it makes sense, Izzi," Bazil grinned, "Our allies are insecure, so we must move or we will lose them."

The vampire girl ignored the familiar address and the suggestive look he gave her.

"With all due respect, as I see it, we are pursuing a policy of flight," she declared coldly, "I don't think that eliminating the vampire blood dealers will persuade our skeptical allies to stay. For one thing, they'll see it as an indirect and ineffective measure that can be taken as a legitimate defense of the cities rather than direct confrontation with the Fifth King.

She caught her breath and continued. "Those who want to break with our alliance will not be persuaded by such temporary half-solutions. On the other hand, it would only delay the war, which, as things stand, will break out anyway. During that time, the Fifth would gain more servants while we continued to lose allies."

Another tense silence followed her words, and then Bazil whistled approvingly, earning him several stinging looks. Lubelle and a few others watched the vampire girl curiously. Others seemed to want to rip Coffee's entire being apart with their own hands.

The vampire girl was harsh in her criticism of the Council's decision. For a moment, I couldn't decide whether I should be worried about Coffee or be exceptionally proud of her.

"What would you suggest?" asked Lubelle.

Her melodious voice enchanted the assembled vampires.

"I propose, Counselor," Coffee began, "our King to be called to war. If we could unite our private armies with the royal army, and our King were to join the fight, we would have a chance of victory. If that is not possible, I would suggest the use of mercenary services. Throughout our history, there have been occasions when we have hired the magic of sorcerers in times of dire need."

"I refuse," one of the old vampires snapped.

This was followed by seven more similar statements. Coffee clenched her hands into fists under the table. Although the council members no longer looked at her, she continued to stare at the table. She did not speak again during the deliberations. She certainly did not dare to look towards her father — perhaps fearing that she might discover anger, disappointment, or shame in his eyes.

Those who did not know her could not have seen it, but I was sure Coffee would have wished to weep. She would have liked to disappear from the room. It must have been the first time she had tasted the bitter taste of defeat and disappointment. Anyway, if she had looked up then, she would have seen that his father's face bore no trace of disappointment or shame. In fact, it was as if the old vampire's eyes had a quite amused gleam in them.

Then the deliberations ended and the room slowly began to empty. As she passed, Lubelle touched Coffee's shoulder softly. The vampire girl looked up at the beautiful woman in surprise, who gave her a comforting smile and then moved on without a word. The other vampire, walking at her side, nodded to Coffee, barely perceptibly.

Bazil clapped a few times and stepped in front of her. "Don't be discouraged, princess. You've convinced me."

With that, he winked and left with his hands in his pockets, humming merrily. Coffee stood up, but did not leave.

"Izidora," said the stern voice that could only belong to Coffee's father.

It was just the two of them now. The girl did not face her father, but waited with her head bowed.

"You did a very reckless thing during the meeting," he stated sternly.

For a moment I thought Coffee would apologize, but she didn't. Without a word, she pursed her lips. I was sure she was only sorry that her speech had not been enough to convince the councillors.

"Nevertheless, I am really proud of you," Mr. Blutkaiser added.

Coffee turned to his father in disbelief. Her eyes were red, and I knew from one look that she had just been close to tears. Perhaps that was why she kept her eyes on the table. Perhaps she was afraid that if she looked up at the other vampires, she would no longer be able to hold back her tears.

"But I have shamed you before the Council!" she protested.

"Shame?" Mr Blutkaiser raised one eyebrow, "I have seen many things to be ashamed of, but this was not one of them. Eight of the thirteen voted in favour of the plan to execute the dealers, which means that you have managed to convince four members besides me. That is no insignificant feat."

Mr. Blutkaiser gently stroked his daughter's hair. "You are young, Izzi, you have not lived through war, so you cannot understand the fear of it among the elderly. They will do anything to delay the battle, even if it only buys them days. You never had a chance to win them over."

Coffee's tears fell. Silent, bitter tears. "I'm so sorry, Dad. It was all pointless!"

"Didn't I tell you?" a slight, comforting smile appeared on the edge of his lips, "I'm proud of you. The four people you've won over have taken notice of you, and when the time comes, they'll support you in taking my place. I must say, I was surprised to hear you speak up. I had no idea you had such a perceptive view of our less-than-pleasant situation."

"I was talking to a friend about it," she admitted, wiping her eyes, "He opened my eyes to a lot of things."

I smiled.

"Friend?" inquired Mr. Blutkaiser.

"The mixed-blood," whispered Coffee in a more uncertain voice.

I immediately understood this uncertainty and was not for a moment angry with her. Like Coffee, I knew the conservative nature of the ancient vampires.

To my surprise, however, Mr. Blutkaiser seemed more interested than disappointed. "When did you make him your friend?"

Coffee wondered. "I do not know for sure."

"It doesn't really matter," the man nodded, "I'm sure you choose your allies well."

The vampire girl nodded.

"Shall we go?" the man asked, to which another nod was the reply.

I opened my eyes and Simon removed his invisible hand from mine.

"Thanks, mate," I whispered to myself with a smile, "I owe you one."

Even though Simon didn't answer, I was sure that he could hear my voice perfectly despite the thundering music.

(...)

It took only hours before the door of the pub opened. Berg Bertram took a sip from his glass, then grinned and waved to the new customer. The vampire who entered glanced towards the bar, waved and headed upstairs.

"Bazil!" said Berg, smiling.

Parsleyhead grinned and high-fived him. "What's up, Bert?"

"Boring paperwork," sighed the vampire, "How was the meeting?"

Berg was probably expecting a similar answer, because he was quite surprised when Bazil gave a muffled chuckle.

"It was the most interesting meeting in hundreds of years," said the councillor, "Your boss has brought his daughter."

"He mentioned something about that," Berg wondered wearily, "And what was interesting about that? Everybody knows he wants to leave his place to her."

"She's different, Bert!" grinned Bazil.

"Not only did she speak up and criticise the Council's decisions, she also made sensible suggestions. She's young, she's got potential," he nodded.

"Bazil," sighed Berg, "You were fourteen when you joined the Council..."

The young vampire's grin widened. "That's normal for geniuses like me."

"In any case, the elders weren't too happy about it," Bazil added, "The Council could really use some fresh blood, if you know what I mean."

Berg nodded.

"Hey, Bert," the young vampire's eyes suddenly lit up, "You're close to Kaisey, aren't you?"

"Yeah?" asked Berg slowly, eyeing his friend suspiciously.

"Does she have a fiancé yet?" asked Bazil, "Have you heard anything about her?"

Berg sighed resignedly. "You never change."

"Well, do you or don't you?" the young vampire was impatient.

"Don't even think about it, mate," Berg said, "Blutkaiser will have you on a stake instead of giving you his daughter's hand."

Bazil thought about that for a moment and pulled his lips away. "Pity, she has some good looks. That leaves Lubelle then."

The only answer to this was another deep sigh. The two vampires had no idea that their every word was being overheard. Perhaps the reason they had chosen a small, obscure village pub was to avoid attention and eavesdropping.

I sipped my cocoa and smiled in satisfaction.