MY MOTHER'S SIRE

PROLOGUE

Battle Plans

Her mother had had a dream - it had been the final sign the Enochian Court had been waiting on.

Enoch had been monitoring suspicious and troubling vampiric movements around their bordering countries, from Serbia and northward to Russia, for some time. Mortals in the region, overcome by the hopelessness of living in a world ravaged by the Mortal-Mythical World War and the Virus, had begun pilgrimages. In droves, they gathered at the gates of the mountain pass, outside the worlds’ vamperic capital, Blue Ash. Once there, they undertook vows of fealty to Lord Black and were never seen again. Enoch’s Court had long feared that mass vamperic sirings were taking place, but now there were whispers that Roman Black was attempting to Sire a vamperic army. Nobody knew who he wanted to wage war against, but the prospect that the madman might succeed was nerve-wracking enough to act preemptively.

The truth of what was occurring in Blue Ash was far more disturbing.

It had come to pass that the Queen of Enoch had witnessed Roman’s atrocities in her sleep. Now she knew the secrets he kept from the world. Finally, without a shadow of a doubt, Roman’s mind had twisted beyond the point that any healer or psyche could retrieve his wits and restore them.

Though the Queen’s mind was greatly troubled by her vision, she awoke that morning and immediately called her court councillors to the great hall.

During their meeting, she relayed the message of her premonition and armed her Court with her new knowledge. Ardently, she’d preached her moral position, and the Court agreed, unanimously, that there was only one way forward. In due course, Enoch would march on Blue Ash. Too long had Enochians watched from their shinning celestial City while the remaining mortals of the world were preyed upon and picked off by the insane vampire, Lord Black.

The first thing Alessandra Morgan had wanted to do upon arriving at the ancient Russian City was explore the magnificent Gothic edifice at its centre - its crowning glory, Davikov Castle. The place was cloaked in mystery and the locale of many an ominous legend. As a child, Alice had been told grim bedtime tales of the wicked fanged creatures that dwelled within its crumbling basalt walls.

Now, as an intellectual and enquiring young woman, she had cultivated a passion for language, history and old awe-inspiring architecture. While Davikov Castle was a few centuries younger than her home, Morningstar Palace, she knew that the wondrous treasures of its past kept within the cold, stone walls would be just as rich. Though naturally of a different, darker, vampiric ilk.

In her heart, she had hoped that their visit would give her some clues, a story to piece together perhaps so that she might know her mother better. It was no secret that Karou had spent some of her fledglinghood in Blue Ash, but she was deliberately tight-lipped about that period in her life. She thought she was protecting her daughters, seeing as the Enochian Court prefered to keep her vampirism concealed; she didn’t want to taint or inspire her children’s imaginations with stories of her past. Her mysterious silence had done quite the opposite and fostered an insatiable curiosity in Alessandra and Cassandra instead.

The first group to arrive from Enoch had consisted of frontline soldiers, her mother, great-aunt, herself and their entourage of royal guards. Cassandra was very disappointed not to have been invited along, seeing as she was undoubtedly the most battle worthy of the two sisters. Alice thought that Cambria had kept her out of it on purpose, but she didn’t know exactly to what end. Sometimes catching onto the ancient fallen angel’s thoughts was like catching smoke. Given that the devil’s daughter knew more about the earthly realms’ goings-on than most, meant she often seemed to act with a level of omniscience of which Alice was envious. Her schemes were far greater and farther-reaching than the budding Princess could fathom. Even now, she seemed all too eager to be rid of Roman Black, which instilled caution in her.

The first on the ground had flown to the ruins of a small town in the foothills of the Ural Mountains. Together, they’d boarded a jet in the early hours from Enoch to save them from the exertion of using their wings. It stood to reason that their energy needed to be conserved for the siege ahead.

Night drew in quickly, and in the absence of the sun, the sky was pitch black out there; even the starlight wasn’t sufficient light by which to see. Indeed, Alice had never witnessed such an abys. Incidentally, she’d quickly given up any hope of reading the book she’d brought along with her. Already she’d been adequately teased by her sister for even packing it; Cass had goaded ‘only a bookworm would take a book to a siege.’

In the remains of an old townhouse, around a circular table, by the dim light of the small fire that flickered away in the grate of a fireplace, Cambria, Karou and a select few Enochian soldiers made the final adjustments to their battle plans.

Others who had been called to arms or volunteered arrived throughout the night and the next day – altogether, some twelve hundred mythicals made up their company. They weren’t only from Enoch; a handful had come from Isadora, while others were survivors of the Alabaster bombings. The Englishmen hoped to take their revenge on the vampiric Lord. Mythical politicians worldwide had speculated that Roman Black had been the one to orchestrate the catastrophe in the first place. It seemed highly likely to have been revenge against his cousin and lover, Ariane Rosetta-Black. It was more than coincidence that the English town was laid waste too shortly after Ariane had escaped Russia. She’d fled to claim her rightful title as Lady of Ravenside House, Steward of Alabaster, and live out the rest of her days in peace. Roman had different plans, it seemed. She was imprisoned in Davikov Castle upon capture from England, where her poor health deteriorated quickly. After her untimely death, her legacy lived on through the tales of her adoring people. Alice’s guilty pleasure was reading about real-life Femme Fatales through history, though she didn’t consider herself a gossip. Still, what hooked Alice was that she was distantly related to this one!

The following morning, their pursuit began. While it was cold and dangerous, nobody suffered any significant injuries - they only lost one man on their movement across the tundra and climb up the mountain passes to the seat of Davikov Castle. Flying by planes or on the wing would have been too obvious, and besides, both her mother and great-aunt had made it clear they wanted to take down the City with their own two hands if it came down to it. Whatever dispatch method was bloodier and more inhumane was what Cambria had desired. She boasted it’d been a long time since she’d gotten to do some good old-fashioned medieval slaughtering.

Ultimately, Alice was happy to stay away from the battle’s core. She had no part to play in the actual siege itself anyway. No, her role in the proceedings would come into play afterwards when it came time to interrogate those who had been allowed to live. When back at home, Cassandra would assist her in a more detailed version of the process, but for now, her particular gift of empathy would prove most helpful in sensing any untruths their prisons spewed.

Feeling somewhat embarrassed by her lack of combat skills, Alice hoped to prove herself useful once the bloodshed was over. Though she could wield a sword and swing it well, there was always some hesitance on her part when it came to taking a life. Something about her empathy made murder a near-impossible task.

~*~