Thanks to WAA01, Killerarmyguy, and Taco for the edits.
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Prologue
In the beginning, there was Eve, or so they would have you believe. However, many have forgotten that one walked beside Adam before the age of Eve. Her name was Lilith, cast out of paradise for her defiance to submit to Adam's dominance.
As the children of Adam grew and died, Lilith did not. For in that dark history, Lilith chose immortality, granted to her by her demon lover Samael. The demon laughed at what Lilith would unleash throughout the world. Lilith's children moved within the shadows as the ages passed. Feeding upon the blood of man, corrupting those they could use to strengthen their hold.
Bringing about a race that would become known as the vampires. Through them, Lilith watched from her throne as her children rose in their might. Few brave souls stood against her will, hunting down her children wherever they rose up. Cleansing the world of the evil Lilith had brought upon it. So began the Unctuous War; this shadow war cost the lives of a quarter of the earth's population. The church blamed the deaths from their secret war on a small plague that started in Constantinople. Ending in 1588 when the last of the Zwei Knights strongholds fell to their might.
Led by the very son of Lilith, sired by one of her favorites at the time. Few knew that he was indeed a pure blood vampire. Although he had no wish to wage war with man, he took no pleasure in ending their short lives. However, their existence was at stake as much as he mourned the loss of life on both sides: his duty was to his people as he stood upon the cliff that overlooked the fortress. He knew neither would rise to the heights of their former selves ever again.
Chapter One
The year was 1900; the war was a thing of the past. His kind was long forgotten only to frighten small children into behaving. The warm sun shone down upon his ancient shoulders. A thin smile formed on his lips at the thought of the mortals' ignorance. True, his kind couldn't walk the streets at the height of the sun's strength; however, those old as he could easily withstand the weak light of the waning sun.
Scanning the skyline of Rue de Rivoil, the old gas lamps shown through the soot from decades of use refitted to burn electricity, yet not all have been converted. Conner enjoyed the warm, soft light the gas lamps would produce. Not the harsh, blinding light of the incandescent bulbs, which seemed to be replacing the lamps. Sighing inwardly, Conner had lived long enough to see many changes occur within the mortal world. Many had him in awe, yet this new leap forward made him wary.
His eyes darted to the alleyway, knowing who awaited within the shadows. The gentle breeze tugged at his black waistcoat, its ivory buttons glistening in the waning light. The gleam of the silver pocket watch chain stood in contrast to the dark fabric. His century-old pocket watch sat nestled in its small breast pocket. His pale hand rested on the ivory-capped walking stick; a high tensile steel blade was hidden within its wooden embrace. In truth, Conner had no need of the blade, yet he was no fool. His highly polished ankle boots echoed off the cobblestones as he continued down the boulevard.
Always wary of the ones that followed him, knowing his mother had sent them to watch his movements. It was one of the reasons he was taking such a roundabout way to meet her. Although Conner had a few hours to meet Margaret at Bois de Vincennes. Where he would marry the one he had longed for, for so many years. It was on a cool fall morning that Conner had first met her. The sun haloing her crimson hair, setting it ablaze. Her light green eyes sparkled in the light as they had transfixed him. Her ruby lips were thin but full; her form-fitting gown did little to curb his imagination.
Conner had taken many beautiful women to his bed throughout his long life and to the other side. Yet as he looked upon her, Conner knew without a doubt she was the one. How he knew he could not say, however, a part of his being knew they belonged together.
As the months passed, their courtship deepened, Conner knew he was flirting with danger every time they were together. Conner knew his mother would never condone what he was planning. Margaret knew the truth about him; he had told her on a moonless night on the hilltop in Bois de Vincennes. Conner dreaded her rejection to his revelation; would she flee from him, call him a monster, abomination, devil.
True, she was shaken to her core, yet she never once failed to banish away his fears. The night was warm, the sky was clear, the moon's pale silver light bathing the land in its embrace. Conner had chosen this place, for it was the place he had first seen her. Standing hand in hand beneath the starry sky, the priest recited words that meant little to him. For what he already knew in his heart.
"Stop this madness at once!" Came a familiar voice from behind him. Looking towards the source for once in his nine hundred years of life, he wished his mother would leave him be. Her once angelic face was now marred in her unbridled rage. Her pale skin glowed eerily in the pale light. John and Dustin stood at her back, both wearing smirks of amusement. For years they had wormed their way into his mother's graces. If their betrayal would elevate their position within the clan, how could they not take the chance. Conner felt a fool for trusting in them.
"Mother, this is no concern of yours," Conner said, shielding Margaret from the attack that was coming.
"Oh, but it is," Helen growled, raising her left hand above her head. Snapping her slender fingers, leaves rustled, twigs snapped as twenty armed warriors surrounded them on that hilltop. "Take them and kill the priest," she said, her cold blue eyes never leaving her son. Before he could defend Margaret, his arms were bound, his legs kicked out from underneath him. Conner howled in rage as he was forced to watch as they pummeled Margaret into unconsciousness. What happened next, he could not say, for darkness rose to claim him.
The air smelled of damp soil and mold-ridden wood. Chains rattled; pulleys shrieked as they came to life after their long slumber. Conner's arms screamed in agony as he was hoisted into the air. Orange light flickered off the cold gray stone. Conner knew where they had taken him; he also knew this was only the beginning. The old metal hinges groaned as his mother entered the cell's gloomy interior.
"You disappoint me, my son," Helen said, shaking her head in disbelief. "What would your father say if he saw this?"
"I wouldn't know you ate him before I was born." A swift backhand caught him across the face.
"Nevertheless, I have gone to great lengths to insure this House's continuous survival," Helen said, taking hold of his face in her vice-like grip. "You dare dishonor this House by pretending to love this thing," she seethed, pointing towards the door. Conner said nothing, for it wouldn't matter to his mother. "You think to marry a human whose only reason for living is to feed us immortals!" Conner fought against his restraints as he caught the hints of blood on the air. His pale blue eyes were filled with sorrow as they tossed Margaret's bloody broken body at his feet. Sneering at his mother as he caught the smell of sex that clung to her skin.
"Well, she was quite lovely in bed. I can see why he would," Dustin said, leaning against the doorframe. His golden locks spilling down his bare chest, his brown eyes held wicked glee within their depths.
"True. She was a rare thing," John said, joining Dustin. "I haven't had one like her in what, twenty years," he said, licking her blood from his lips. Conner went cold as he looked upon her naked form. Never again would he see her smile, never again would he hear her laughter, nor the sweet words she used to comfort his weary soul.
"Now, Conner, you have a choice," Helen said, nudging Margaret's body with her foot. "You can marry Lord Garland's daughter as planned, and I shall forget this lapse of judgment."
"I would rather die," Conner spat at the thought.
"Fine," Helen said, wiping the blood from her face. "Death is what you shall have," she said, tearing his shirt from his chest. "You are highborn. The insult you have caused me cannot go unpunished," looking past her son, "whip him to the bone!" Helen growled. "Maybe a hundred years of starvation and darkness will make you see reason."
"
Doubtful
," Conner said to himself as the first lash of the whip cut away his immortal flesh. Ivory bone protruded from the mangled meat of his back. Blood seeped into the loose soil as it ran down his legs as they dragged his mangled body through the corridors. Near to death as any immortal could know, he would come to know it well as they tossed his body into his awaiting coffin. Chains tumbled over the dark wooden boards, the clicking of the lock ensuring he would not escape his prison. As they wrestled his coffin into position, Conner faded into the darkness hoping for oblivion.
*******
A hundred years had passed since her son's imprisonment, her polished fingernail tapped on the phone, debating whether or not to wake her son. Helen could remember the maddening look in her son's eyes as Dustin tossed that blood bag at his feet. She had seen that look numerous times in her long life. None lived long enough to see their deed done. However, he was her son and heir to the throne; on her orders, Conner was given enough blood to stave off death. Yet not enough to fully recover from his slumber, no, that was too risky given their last encounter. Nevertheless, she would be very pleased if he did regain his former self.
Helen would be safe across the Atlantic ocean where her new court resided. The possibility that her son would somehow escape in his weakened state was so remote it was hardly worth noting. Yet, she had not lived this long taking unnecessary risks. In reality, Conner would be near insanity due to the years of starvation. Even she could not be lenient towards her son, that would only make her appear weak. Her enemies were only waiting to take advantage of such an opening. Many had come to an end at her own hand, others by their own people, easy pickings for those waiting on the sidelines.
