Saturday November 15th 2014

Cesare wheeled himself out of the bathroom at the knocking on the outside door. “Come in!” It had to be Alexandra or Dr. Robert. They were the only regular visitors he had.

Cesare had just a moment to curse his luck before Abraxas walked in. Black on black, power that in another would be called arrogance radiated from him, the confidence of a man who knows he’s death on a short leash. His eyes flicked over the room without surprise at finding Cesare alone.

Anastasia stepped in behind him. She’d never shown this last week. Not one day. But Cesare had. Alexandra never became even slightly okay with it. She didn’t badger him, but every time the akatharton’s name came up, hate twisted across her face. If she didn’t like Anastasia before, this week had only honed the blade razor sharp.

Lust rolled off Anastasia. a tsunami of hunger untainted by good, depraved and corrupt beyond redemption or care. It hit him like a sledgehammer after a week of being away from it. His needs hooked his eyes to her lush curves and the hint of cleavage she showed. The sight of her pale skin birthed memories of its fever-hot life burning under his touch.

Cesare wrenched himself from the aura to see the person behind the mask of a sex goddess, the real Anastasia who he’d seen through windows of weakness and stolen moments. She looked … sad. The hair that had flamed and burned with supernatural fire was dull and faded. Where it had moved sensuously with a life of its own, it now hung sorrowfully still.

She moved to the side to make way for Pantagruel. The massive monster had to turn sideways to slip into the room, taking a stand next to the door. A wife beater showed off a body of muscled perfection, bulging arms rippled with hulking strength paired with shoulders wider than the door and a narrow waist of shredded abs. He wasn’t simply big, he was strong enough to dismember Cesare without trying.

Blaez came in last, a prince of the school butchered into a mangled lesson of weakness. They'd replaced the heavy bandages with lighter ones that showed the lines of his face. Cesare met the boy eye to eye. He’d expected fury, and it was there, banked and subdued, the rage of a broken, impotent thing. The door clicked shut, with Bleaz leaning back against it.

“I thought we could have a moment, Cesare. To talk about the recent incidents.” Abraxas stepped forward as he spoke, dominating the room with his presence.

Cesare wheeled toward the back of the suddenly small room where the only window stood. “Of course, I can see why you’d want to clear the air.” The window opened easily, letting in the cold November wind.

“Now would be a good time to define our places and roles in this school,” Abraxas said from behind Cesare. Searching outside, Cesare found what he was looking for—the two ravens he’d seen stalking him.

On catching sight of him, the grim birds swooped down to perch on the windowsill. Turning back to face Abraxas, Cesare hoped the ravens were as smart as he thought they were.

“It’s important that we know our place, Cesare. That’s where we went wrong with you. When you got here, I didn’t know you'd so little contact with your own kind. Out there in the world of humans for so long, it’s no wonder you came to us confused. We,” his gesture took in the Thagirion. “are scions of power, singular and perfect. While you’re as common as sand. I can see how you would look at our corrective actions as wrong. But each was for your benefit, to show you what your place is in our society.”

“My place?” Cesare asked.

“Yes, your place. The pain you’ve suffered has been because you fight against it. I realize that some of this is our fault. We should have taken you aside when you arrived and taught you this. Our natures define us, we are born to rule, just as you are born to serve. A gazelle is not a lion and could never be one. It’s the lion’s job to rule and the gazelle’s to feed him.” Thin lips creased into a smile as Abraxas continued, “It’s the natural way of the world. All this has …” Abraxas cut off as the door opened.

Alexandra walked in, the door slamming open with Bleaz slamming into the wall. Fitted designer jeans hugged her long, muscled legs and curved hips. Her pale green shirt showed off her athletic body. Hardened muscle flexed along her shoulders and arms as she closed the door behind her. The Thagirion moved aside as she stalked through them, their primal instincts recognizing an apex killer.

She had no aura of power, no raw sexuality to enslave and control. Instead, she owned a physical presence that dominated every move she made, from the balanced grace of her walk to the silence that cloaked her steps. Alexandra radiated a deadly competency, a set of skills learned and honed by over a decade of brutal training in the blessed arts of murder.

She set herself in front of Cesare and to the side. With that move, she'd set herself against the gods of the school. She was ready to face them, a wall of blood and vampiric rage.

“We were just talking,” Abraxas said uneasily. Cesare was dangerous, but not in the way Alexandra was. It’s dangerous coming across a mad dog on the street, but it’s a world away from finding a hungry panther above you.

“Funny, I think the Commander is here because of one of your talks.” Her lips fell into a well practiced sneer, needled fangs lengthening into points. “Why don’t you talk to me, snake?” Alexandra smiled at the rage that disfigured Abraxas’s face. Rolling her shoulders in readiness, humanity drained from her face.

Soft human features slipped away as her eyes sharpened with predatory perception, cheekbones forming bone razors as Cesare watched. “You're good fighters. But do you know the difference between a soldier and a fighter? A fighter fights. A soldier kills. I bet I can rip your snake head off your shoulders before you can change. Let's find out, belly crawler?”

She leaned forward, her face a mask of bloodless skin and sharp bones. The Thagirion looked at each other in horror. This wasn’t what they’d wanted. A fight in the room of the boy they’d eviscerated was a death sentence. A fight here … they’d be expelled if they were lucky. If not, the Mistress could kill them for the insult.

None of that mattered to Cesare. Reaching forward, he laid his hand on Alexandra’s hip. The contact caused the vampire’s head to whip around, raw, feral intent shriveling his guts with fear. But she was his friend.

“Enough, Alexandra.” The vampire pulled back without hesitation. The fangs dimpling her lip retreated slowly, not all the way but enough. Flesh filled out her face as the illusion of humanity washed over her. One long step back put her by his side.

Leaving his hand on the vampire’s hip, he switched his attention back to the Thagirion. Abraxas’s eyes were locked on Cesare’s hand on Alexandra, speculation running rampant across the dragon’s face. It was a game changer. The paradigm had changed. They were not singular enemies or even a team. No, something more dangerous than that.

It was Cesare in command of Alexandra. What could a tactician like Cesare do with a weapon as deadly as Alexandra? What could Genghis Khan have done with a tactical nuke? But it paled next to the intensity that ran through Anastasia’s eyes at the casual contact between Cesare and the vampire. 

Flooding into the room in a river of ebony feathers, dozens of ravens poured through the window. They washed over the people, drowning them in stygian feathers and flashing beaks, claws shining silver with eager hate. The cloud obscured the Thagirion from view, leaving only him and Alexandra in an island of calm. The walls disappeared behind black birds and sable feathers. No caws broke up the deafening sound of coarse beating wings. No calls of fury or anger sounded as cold, murderous intent filled the room. In a rush, the ravens coalesced into an incensed Elizabeth standing between the Thagirion and Cesare.

Naked hatred contorted Elizabeth’s features into a mask of rage. Abraxas stepped back and rejoined the others, no longer liking the idea of being singled out. Blaez rounded his shoulders, ducking his head in submission. Pantagruel stumbled back toward the door, reaching for the handle. Anastasia stared at the floor with hair dull and still around her .

Elizabeth glared at the four kids as ravens flowed through the window. Death’s chosen filled the room, perching on the bed, IV stand, and the open door to the bathroom. With a thump, two of them landed on the wheelchair handles. Dozens of silent, dead eyes measured the four Thagirion.

“What is this? Have you learned nothing? Does Jerold know you're here?” Elizabeth asked quietly. “Answer me, dragon.”

“No, Miss Raven. He doesn’t know,” Abraxas said to the floor.

“You think to come here … know this dragon, I have torn your kind from the heavens and given their rotting bodies to my ravens. From the earth you come and, Goddess help you if you cross me, I will see you returned to her. Do you hear me?” Elizabeth threatened.

“Yes, Miss Raven.” Abraxas couldn’t let it go. “I didn’t come to hurt him. I assure you, I want no more incidents with Cesare. We have already paid a high price for our mistakes. I wanted to tell him we weren't just bullies, but that we had reasons for our actions. If he understood us, we could prevent another incident.” Abraxas raised his head to face Elizabeth.

“That you snuck in here without a teacher’s approval tells me all I need to know about your intentions,” Elizabeth said, taking a step forward. “I will make myself clear. If you have any unapproved visits with Cesare in the future, rest assured, I will come for you.”

The room went quiet as the Thagirion absorbed the threat. “Leave. Find Jerold and tell him what happened here.”

Pantagruel already had the door open and was ducking through. Blaez and Anastasia scurried out on his heels. Abraxas held his tattered dignity about him as he followed his gang.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Elizabeth spun around and rushed over to Cesare. Fear ruled her eyes as she laid her hand on his head. “Are you okay? They came for me as quick as they could.” Her fingers briefly clenched in his hair before smoothing out.

“I’m fine. I’m more curious about how Alexandra got here so soon. We didn’t have plans.” Elizabeth pulled her hand away while taking a long step back.

Flushing, Alexandra looked away from both of them. “I was nearby … I don’t have anyone anymore, Cesare. Going to town by myself, well, it doesn’t sound like fun. And I knew you were going to be with Elizabeth ... so, well, I was outside watching and hoping I could meet up with you and ask if ...” She ducked her head in embarrassment.

Cesare shared a look with Elizabeth, the woman grimaced before letting out a resigned sigh. “You can come with us.” Alexandra’s head came with a grateful smile. “It’ll be dirty work. I hope that doesn’t change your mind?”

“No, I don’t mind a little dirt,” Alexandra answered quickly.

Elizabeth muttered to herself. “Of course you don’t …”

“Now that it’s settled, I think we should start our day.” Cesare set his hands on the wheels of his chair.

“None of that, Cesare. I may have had to stand aside during the week but this is the weekend, and I intend to push you myself.” The two ravens gave up their perches on the handles with disgruntled caws and hopped onto Cesare’s shoulders.

Elizabeth took the handles with a proprietary air while shooting Alexandra a triumphant look. “I want to talk to Robert before we leave. The Thagirion were forbidden access to your room.”

It took only a second to find the person who’d admitted them. Minutes later the infirmary was down one nurse. It didn’t matter why the woman had allowed the Thagirion access, only that she had. The infirmary wouldn’t take the chance that it was only incompetence was the stated reason. But it was deeper than that. Since the wars that had consumed the midnight races, the few doctors had remained neutral, neither abomination nor horror targeting them. The slightest hint that any of them could be corrupted wasn't a black mark, it was a lethal threat to them all.
The doctor had gone over the timeline of his recovery, barring stupid choices or clever killers. He could walk for short periods of time if he used a walker, but he was condemned to the wheelchair for anything longer than a few minutes. He could be with the other while they worked, but he wouldn't be helping.

Seeing Alexandra pick up two fifty-pound bags of soil, one in each hand, while walking with breezy grace had his lips twisting into a scowl. Cesare talked Alexandra through where to place the bags and the thousand and one things Elizabeth had drilled into him.

After hours of working on the campus, Elizabeth stood and dusted off her jeans. “Well, the two of you together might make a competent helper one of these days. Lunch?”

He grinned at the Chthonic as he wheeled over to her. She took the handles with a grin of her own and pushed him along. Cesare’s heart squeezed in pain when he looked back to see Alexandra standing with a lost look on her face. He motioned for Elizabeth to stop. “You coming, killer?”

She smiled brightly as she bounded forward, feet barely touching the ground as she caught up to them. “Of course.”

Alexandra put away the tools from a day of hard work, a familiar reluctance in her movements. She was an intruder in the private time between Cesare and Elizabeth.

“Tea?” Elizabeth asked as she brought over his snake cup. Cesare paused in setting up the chess set, taking the cup with a smile of thanks. After the last tool was hung on its hook, Alexandra started for the door.

“Where you going, killer?” Cesare asked as Elizabeth went back to make her own cup of tea.

“It was nice of you guys to include me. But I thought you'd want the night alone,” Alexandra said.

She wanted to stay, to soak in the warmth of Cesare and Elizabeth’s friendship, even if it wasn’t hers. To warm her cold bones and even colder soul by its life-giving warmth. The way a traveler would ask to share a campfire with a family on the trail.

Smiling, Cesare turned back to the chessboard. “I was hoping you could help me against Elizabeth. She’s a devil when it comes to chess.”

Laughing, Elizabeth picked up the thread. She was willing to play along if it made him happy, even if it meant sacrificing her private time with him. “You’re just jealous that you never win. I’d think as bad as you play that you were letting me win, if I didn’t know better.” She pulled out the chair that Cesare usually used. “Stay. He can use all the help he can get.”

Alexandra took the chair with a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

The game went the way it always had before. While Alexandra slowed the inevitable loss, she couldn’t prevent it. “Alexandra.” The vampire turned to him, knowing from his tone that a lesson was coming. “There are many lessons in chess. This one I want you to take as your own. You and your opponent seem on even footing; no one has unique pieces or special attacks. The only advantage is the mind of the player. Deception the singular way to win, to see the plan of your opponent while concealing your own. To use your pieces to capture the king while your opponent watches. It’s not in your powers that you’ll find your greatest weapon. It’s in what you have in common, your mind.”

He gestured at the board. “She beat us. Defeated us even as we watched. We might as well have not even moved a piece. That’s how good she is. The true essence of any battle, be it a fight or a war, is deception. It is the one and only weapon of war. Everything else is window dressing.”

“In a real fight, I would have my powers. In battle, I’d have the Order,” Alexandra countered.

Cesare set the pieces up for another game. “You have advantages: training, strength, raw vampiric power, and experience. I’m not telling you to throw them aside. But you lean on those advantages until they've become dependencies instead of strengths.”

“So, plan as if I’m human?” Alexandra asked while moving a pawn.

“No. Never plan with fantasies. You’re as strong as you are.” He continued calmly in the face of her frustration, “I want you to plan to use other things besides your powers. Look at the board.” He took his rooks and bishops out and placed them on the table. “If I removed those pieces, I would lose even quicker. If Elizabeth did that, she would still win, but she would have to work for it. That’s what I want you to realize. You have the same pieces as everyone else. Your powers don’t change that. We all have wild cards to play, but you don’t plan your entire fight around them. I love my queen.” He held the piece up to admire her tapered beauty. “She can move anywhere she wants and contains all the powers of the other pieces, but I don’t plan my game around her.”

Cesare placed the pieces back. “Right now, you’re basing all your fights on your power—which, I’m not going to argue, it's damn impressive. But it’s become a crutch, allowing you to bull through challenges instead of taking the defeat and learning from it. Now you have to do what few can … learn from words instead of actions.”

Alexandra was quiet through the rest of the game with Elizabeth. The older woman turned thoughtful eyes on the vampire, even as she bantered with Cesare.

Alexandra left them as Elizabeth wheeled Cesare back to the infirmary. “What do you plan to do with your pet vampire?”

“She’s a friend, not a pet. A little lost maybe, but she’ll find her way and when she does, she’ll strike fear into the hearts of those who hear her name.”

“She was there for you today. I know you want to help her, Cesare. But like with Anastasia, you don’t command her power. You have no control over how they'll use what you’re giving them. She could just as easily use it against you, as Anastasia did.” Elizabeth was taking her time. The infirmary wasn’t like the Serpens Lacum; it didn’t lock up at a certain time.

Even if he hadn’t left the chair, he still hurt. “Their power doesn’t diminish mine. They might use the skills I teach them against me, but I've gained a measure of power by learning the secrets of their races. Knowing that puts me in a good spot if it comes to a fight. They gain power but I do as well, if of a different sort.”

“Knowledge doesn't mean much when you’re facing a ball of fire the size of a house or vampiric strength that can twist a sword into a pretzel.” Elizabeth cautioned.

Hard to argue with that. Knowledge is power. But what good did that power do the Library of Alexandria?

---

My special and eternal gratitude must alwasy go to my one and only patron, JustSomePug. You don't know him here, but his faith in me means a lot to this story and me peronsally.

No less loved or coveted are

Soundion, the Whisper Never Seen But Always Heard.

Xriter, He Who Waits. 

Blox, the Eyes in Darkness

BelBlade, My Eternal Friend