Court of Vampires

Chapter 1

When Coriolanus stepped into the Grand Hall in front of his uncle, his heart swelled and his head swam with hundreds of thousands of candles on strings that twinkled across the painted ceilings, down the walls, lit the glittering crystal chandelier, and set the room ablaze. Great banners of black and gold were draped from floor to ceiling, framing fresco after fresco. Musicians plucked out delicate melodies, hidden away on their secret balcony. The faint scent of death drifted on the air. All around, the wonderful sparkling sound of women's laughter, their sweet speech, punctuated by a man's occasional foil. Coriolanus had never been to Court before. He couldn't have while his father was alive since a man had to hold a title, and Coriolanus had long ago given up hope of inheriting the vicountship. Now that his father had died—or, rather, received a stake through the heart—Coriolanus was to be introduced before the Empress along with all the others who were taking on titles this Season. Uncle Juniper, his escort, clapped a hearty hand on Coriolanus's shoulder.

            "Courage, lad," he whispered rather loudly.

            "I need little of courage, Uncle," Coriolanus replied, grinning over at him. "I was born for the Court." 

             And indeed he was. He'd groomed himself perfectly for the event, in looks and manner. Coriolanus stood tall, kept his raven hair long, though out of his face. He had dressed in immaculate black tails, arranged the white sash of a viscount across his chest, and pinned the glittering ruby, diamond, and emerald broach of his family's crest above his heart. He'd waited for this day a hundred years. He was more than ready—he was eager.

            Uncle Juniper adjusted his own green count's sash as he said, "Oh, I have no doubt of that, my boy. I only meant that October marks the beginning of the Bride Season and your pretty face might attract attention."

            Bride Season. Just his misfortune that the time his father had kicked the coffin coincided with the change in Court Seasons, and the Season in which Coriolanus was to be introduced to the Court was that of the Bride. It was an excellent way to find a mate, certainly, but it also meant that he would not be allowed to speak to any of the women unless spoken to first. Not the best way for a new viscount with an unimportant land holding to begin building a network. Thankfully Uncle Juniper was in relatively good standing.

            "I hope that it may," Coriolanus replied, "else what is the purpose of a pretty face?"

            Juniper laughed, a grizzled sound on his ancient vocal chords, his twisted blond mustache quivering over his lips. "I like the way you think, Nephew. You will do well here."

            Coriolanus hoped so. He had plans for himself. Now that the white sash was finally his, a white sash was not enough. He wanted more. One could spend eternity dreaming of power, but to be granted a sliver of it opened up a crack in a door that Coriolanus was determined to wiggle the rest of the way through. His start would be somewhat hindered by Bride Season, but patience was one of the great vampiric virtues and Coriolanus had learned it well over the centuries praying for a silver cross to fall on top of his father.

            A servant strolled by with a gold tray bearing tall, cylindrical glasses filled with liquid in varying shades of red. Uncle Juniper held up a hand and the servant stopped, turning to face him.

            "O positive," he said. "From the lungs."

            The servant selected a glass of bright red liquid and offered it to Juniper. Juniper looked to his nephew.

            "And for you, Coriolanus?"

            "AB negative," he replied. "From the right atrium."