Chapter 259: A Spark
"Can your progeny hunt their own food? Or are their fangs so dull that they can only rely on their brethren to find them a meal?"
The moment Nyrielle spoke, she knew that she’d crossed a line with Tausau that would be difficult to retreat from. For a moment, she regretted her impatience. There were other matters to discuss before she left Tausau’s ramshackle fortress and she could have easily filled this evening with those matters rather than springing her trap as soon as she arrived.
She almost wished she’d brought Zedya along with her. Not only was Zedya the only person who had experienced firsthand what Nyrielle was about to attempt, but her command over her Mesmerizing Eyes had reached a level that few vampires ever obtained. A more susceptible Tausau who had fallen under Zedya’s sway would be a better target for her untested sorcery.
Unfortunately, Tausau was far too old and experienced to lower his guard with one of Nyrielle’s progeny in the room. In order for her plan to work, she needed her Uncle to be off balance and agitated. She needed to find out if there was even a chance of success and the only way Tausau would give her the opportunity is if they were alone together.
If not for the growing sense of pressure in her chest as something attempted to pull Ashlynn free of their bond, she might not have made her move tonight. Already the feeling of pressure had shifted, accompanied by a faint sensation of tearing. Nyrielle’s hands clenched on the armrests as she worked to keep concern from flickering across her face.
She had faith in Ashlynn’s ability to resolve this crisis but that didn’t make it easier for her to focus on what was happening in front of her. Yet now that she had set the trap, no matter how much she wanted to retire for the night to focus on whatever was tearing at her bond with Ashlynn, she could only wait to see how Tausau would respond. Would he offer his neck, or bear his fangs?
Nyrielle’s words hung in the air of Tausau’s sitting room like a sword hanging above the older vampire’s head. His expression darkened as he struggled to remain impassive before Nyrielle’s overwhelming presence. Emotions he’d believed long lost, ground away by the milestone of time, flickered to life deep within his heart. Anxiety. Apprehension. Shame.
How long had it been since he had felt shame for anything he had done? For the past several decades as he took in more and more progeny, he’d reveled in the deep feeling of satisfaction, one of the few emotions left to his withered heart. Satisfaction and pride at every success along with disappointment and sorrow at every failure.
So how was it that within minutes of speaking to him, his grand-niece had rekindled his long-lost ability to feel shame?
"You’re trying to provoke me, your Eternity," Tausau said, withdrawing into formality to shield himself from the discomfort he felt. "I understand that you have your own traditions to follow as the Harbinger of Death. You don’t need to keep the old ways, even though you were born to descendants of his Eternity Bardas."
"But, your Eternity," the older vampire said, putting his wine down on the table and leaning forward in his overstuffed chair. "It isn’t appropriate for the Harbinger of Death to chastise me about the traditions of the Jaws of Death, is it?"
"That’s your answer, Uncle?" Nyrielle said, her voice growing colder than the winds of the High Pass. "You think you can shelter under the letters of the covenants? What has happened to the proud hunter I knew? I came to see the sire of the Mongrel Horde. You’ve grown soft, Uncle."