Well, the time was upon us, and we all bundled into the
dining room, each dragging our respective dates along with us. Mother and
father had each invited a couple from the surrounding farms, to add some solid
meat to the table, so all in all we numbered eighteen. Except, that we didn’t
number eighteen. Counting the filled seats, we numbered only seventeen. Stefan
had failed to bring a date.
A palpable
sense on tension filled the room, as father said grace. Happily, the
introduction of the food relieved some of the awkwardness, As with tradition,
Scott started the meal by asking for silence. He then bent on one knee, and
turned to his date, a stocky girl of Germanic heritage. She covered her mouth
with one hand, as he grasped her other hand with both of his. He smiled at
her…but instead of popping the question as she no doubt expected, he popped his
fangs. She didn’t even have time to scream before he fell on her wrist in a
frenzy. This signaled the rest of us to introduce our dates in similar, albeit
less dramatic, manner.
The smell
of blood permeated the air as we drank and drank, passing each dish around the
table. I’m proud to say what’s-her-name-from-china did me proud; she added such
a foreign flavor to our feast. The final dish was a bottle of wine that father
had laid down using the blood left over from the last feast, fifty years ago. Five
decades of aging added just a tint of bitterness to the blood, which gnawed and
snarled at the back of my throat before submitting to my maw. Appetites
satiated, but not fully satisfied, we adjourned to the lounge to discuss
business.
All of us
children had our reports of the past five years, and all of us had our
proposals for the next five. This is a general requirement at our five-year
family conferences, but is absolutely a necessity at the fifty-year’s feast. As
is customary, we proceeded from the youngest child to the oldest, the theory
being that we were saving the best report for last. Sadly, this was not always
so; Scott’s reports could be so boring that the entire family fervently wished
to die (Well, Diane actually did attempt suicide during one of Scott’s
reports, but we stopped her).
Anyway, I
went first and then Selena, Patrick, and Diane. That’s when the trouble really
got going. Stefan stood up to give his report, and we all perked up because
Stefan’s speech was bound to be more interesting than Scott’s. That turned out
to be true, but not in the way that any of us had expected. That would be
because he didn’t have one. He stood up, cleared his throat, and said in his
low growl, “I have nothing to report.” Then, he just sat down. This crossed a
line. Not bringing a dish to the feast is rude, but not bringing a report is
insubordination.
Father
raised his bushy eyebrows in incredulity.
“Have you
forgotten how to give a report, Stefan?” He asked, clearly trying to give
Stefan an out.
“No.”
Stefan said, deadpan, “There is nothing to report.”
Father
harrumphed and said, “Well Stefan, that is disappointing. Most disappointing
indeed. But then, I suppose you will not object to staying here at the manor
with us for a while, until you’ve gotten some manners back into you?” Stefan
said nothing, but glared sullenly at the floor.
That
business concluded, Scott stood and nervously gave his report. He must have shortened
it a great deal, because no one was listening to him. Scott then jumped right
into his five-year proposal, which was something boring that had to do with
some territory negations between our family and another. “Thank you, Scott.”
Father said, attempting to force some vigor into his voice, and failing
miserably. “You proposal sounds reasonable, and will no doubt be accepted when
we vote on it later. Stefan? Do you…?” He trailed off as Stefan looked up at
him and simply said, “No.”
The
proposals went by in a blur; nothing could overshadow the strangeness of
Stefan’s actions. At last, it was my turn again. I stood up, and composed
myself before taking the plunge.
“As you are
all aware, I have just five years ago moved my operations region to the country
across the waters. I currently reside in a reasonable estate on the mid-western
region of the United States.
This affords me good access to most of the country by plane, should an
emergency arise. This has been a good location, for the past five years.
Looking forward, however, I think it will be necessary to have greater access
and control over the western coast, and the Asian lands beyond it. Therefore, I
propose that I relocate my center of operations to as city on the coast.”
At this,
Stefan leapt to his feet and spat at me, “Those territories belong to me!”
Father waved him to his seat, and looked at me fiercely.
“Rude as he is, Stefan has a point.
Why should you receive from Stefan’s portion?”
I answered carefully, and with as
little emotion as possible, “Stefan’s point would be valid, this is true…if his
claim to the territory were in truth, valid.” In the collective gasp that
followed, I spoke swiftly and commandingly.
“Stefan has not been exemplary
these past five years,” I stated, pacing form side to side, “even disregarding
his behavior tonight. From my vantage in the States, much rumor has reached my
ears. Rumor that speaks of a new and dangerous clan Stefan plans to create; one
he has in fact already begun to create.”
Stefan shouted something in denial,
but again Father waved him down. “Where is your evidence of these grave
accusations?”
I gazed triumphantly and directly
at Stefan. “My evidence lies in the source of the rumors, one who would know
very intimately the details of such a plan. The vampires Demelza, whom they
call the rogue.
To explain: Demelza is a vampiress
who belonged to another clan, a clan that had given us no small measure of
trouble in the past. Unexpectedly, they spat her out of their ranks, due to her
irresponsible blood-lust and tendencies to incite violence between clans. She
went rogue, belonging to no one and obeying nothing, save for the dictates of
her own twisted conscience. We’d had to fight her off of our territory before,
and we had no love of her.
“Rumor, however, is not enough to
satisfy me. I desired proof, and so I traveled to China, on the pretense of a
vacation. What I found there was shocking.” I threw a small packet of
photographs onto the table we sat around. “These are photographs I took of a
meeting between, Demelza, to vampires who I have never seen nor smelled before,
and Stefan. According to the dictates of our clan, Stefan has been consorting
with an enemy to the clan, and has been inciting rebellion by splitting form
us.”
I sat, waiting to see what effect
my words and my evidence would have. I did not wait long.
“Stefan.” Father said, with quiet
fury in his voice, “What truth is their in this? Do you deny these claims, this
evidence?”
“I deny nothing,” Stefan snarled,
“For there is nothing to deny. I have been meeting with Demelza, we have been
lovers these past three years. Together, we have raised three strong sons, and
will raise more. I have long been waiting for the chance to leave your house,
and now I have the means to do it. Your outmoded ways would have us scraping
and bowing to the other clans, but I will not submit. I have too much honor to
willingly put myself under another’s heel.
“Know then, Stefan,” Father said,
his voice more quiet and yet more menacing than I had ever heard before, “That
your wish is granted.” Stefan blinked in surprise.
“It is?”
“Yes,” Father said, malice like a
flickering flame behind his eyes, “You will be beholden to no one, just as you
have described. Because you are now and forevermore rogue. I declare you a
traitor, a rebel, an outsider. You are not, and never will be welcome in my
house again. Leave now, while I still allow it.”
Stefan stepped back, then turned on
his heel and made for the door. He stopped at the door, as if about to say
something, but instead merely tried to express his hatred toward me in a glare.
Ah, there was such venom in it (Not actual venom. it was…figurative venom. Is
that a real thing?)! Then he left, slamming the door behind him.
“On that happy note, I believe we
should continue on to the voting.” I said, a grin upon my face.
That’s it. Where you expecting
something heart-warming, involving a fat old man garbed in red, carrying gifts
for all the good little children in the world? Clearly you haven’t been reading
my blog very thoroughly.
Merry Christmas, sleep well, and
email me your address if you’d like to invite me for Christmas dinner. I can
make any event a once in a life-time experience.
