Bitten to Death

His sigh made me shiver, it sounded so alien. “My name is Blas. I was part of a group in the Trust who did not believe Hamon Eryx died by accident, and who wouldn’t accept Disa as Deyrar.”

I remembered Vayl asking Disa about the missing vamps, one of whom had been this creature. “What happened?” I asked.

“It . . . it is difficult to recall. We were all gathered in the dining hall for the Mourning.” Blas sighed. “I won’t bore you with succession of power in a Trust. Suffice it to say that the Articles of Transformation were not scheduled to be read until the next evening.”

Blas paused to listen, as if he’d heard someone coming outside our stifling little elevator to nowhere. I reached out with my own senses and felt nothing except a strengthening desire to LEAVE. I began feeling around for a secret door. I know, I know. But the hope that there was one kept me in that hole, listening to his tragic story when I would have much preferred running straight back to America, my feet pumping so fast I wouldn’t even need a ship to get me across the ocean. Nothing behind me. But to my left my fingers managed to budge a section of wall big enough for me to feel from shoulder to hip. I relaxed by a factor of ten.

Blas continued. “Camelie had just finished reciting ‘McNaight’s Refrain’ when Disa stepped into the Speaker’s circle. It wasn’t her place to talk. Until then she had been but a knaer, tolerated at first because Vayl asked it, and then because she showed some aptitude for recruiting willing donors.”

“I claim the chalice!” she cried, pointing dramatically at Hamon’s personal guards, two enormous, mute humans who held the chest containing the golden cup that the new Deyrar would drink from after we had all given of our blood to fill it.

“Be silent!” Aine snapped. She had been Hamon’s Second, and the one we all supposed would succeed him. “If you can observe the traditions of our Mourning, perhaps tomorrow we will allow you to speak in support of a qualified member.”

“The slap was clear,” Blas said. “No one even acknowledged Disa’s pronouncement. In hindsight, of course, I can say we should never have underestimated her ambition or her brutality. But I am surprised none of us realized what she managed to achieve without revealing her plan to anyone. Arrogance is always the stair that trips you.”

I said, “It doesn’t sound like Disa had any trouble negotiating her stairs.”

“No. She had planned for her moment so thoroughly I don’t suppose even she could get in her own way. She strode up to Aine, the long tails of her sleeves trailing her like pet snakes. Though Aine was at least six inches taller, Disa seemed to tower over her.

“I don’t think you understand me!” she screamed as she grabbed Aine by the throat. “I am your new Deyrar!”

“Get off of me!” Aine choked out the words as she spun her arms under and up to break Disa’s hold. It should have sent the lesser vamp flying. But before the break could occur, Disa’s neck bulged horribly. As if she’d turned bullfrog, a low croak spilled from her lips as the skin of her throat thinned and split. A beaklike appendage shoved through the opening like a blood-covered fist. It flew open to reveal dozens of fleshy pink tendrils that looked quite harmless. In a movement so swift even my eyes could not follow, the tendrils shot at Aine’s head. They caught her just where her hairline began, wrapped around to her chin, and”—Blas paused, took a ragged breath—“and sliced off her face.”

I crossed my hands over my chest, as if that could stop the stutter it had begun when it realized the truth. “So Disa’s a Vera?”

“What is that?”

“It’s a CIA term, taken from the name of the first other who somehow managed to move beyond the typical boundaries of her biology. Veras learn how to trip a transformational trigger that should take thousands of years. But it’s not a permanent deal. They can swing back and forth between representations. That must be what she meant by evolution. But how’d she do it?”

Blas shook his head, making my blasted ticker pause to flip-flop before it stumbled on its way again. At this rate I’d need a pacemaker before my next birthday. He said, “We have no idea. But vampires are terrible snobs about such impurities. The fact that she had accepted, no, sought a change so radical spoke volumes about the role she had played in the Trust since Vayl brought her in, and how firmly she intended it to change.”

“Yeah, but . . . poor Aine.”

Blas clutched his hands together at the memories. “She tried to scream, but there was nothing left of her to make sounds. The blood gushed from her wounds as she fell to the floor. Not dead. No, never dead.”

“What happened after that?” I asked.

“We rushed Disa. But she had already enlisted Hamon’s guards, as well as Genti and his bunch. The guards took Fielding and Panos with crossbows. Camelie fought Genti and Rastus like a tigress, but in the end they overcame her, taking her head. That left me alone to fight Disa.”

“Wait a second. Where were Niall and Admes? And their guard would’ve still been alive then. I mean, I don’t know the guys. But they don’t seem the types to take something like that sitting down.”

“She had even thought of that. Niall and Admes are, without doubt, the best fighters among us. But when a Deyrar dies, the shields that protect Trust lands weaken. As a result, during the Mourning our fiercest warriors must guard our borders. All three were outside the walls, patrolling the edges of our property. Too far to be of any use in the battle. I, alone, was left to destroy the threat.”

His hands, which had been resting on his thighs, balled into fists. “But you can see how that ended. Though I slashed at her with my cantrantia, which can liquefy small pockets of flesh and bone, she managed to protect herself quite well. The wounds I caused healed instantly. In return she sent those razor-sharp tentacles slashing at my face.”

“I wonder why . . .” I stopped. This was not an anatomy class. I couldn’t just . . . well, could I? Hard to know if he’d be receptive with no expression to read. I decided I had to know worse than he needed me to protect his feelings. Maybe it would help in the long run. “I’ve seen vampires survive wounds that would’ve been catastrophic to anyone else and wake up the next nightfall completely healed. Was the damage just too extreme or . . .”

He shook his head. “Those tentacles. I could feel the sizzle when they hit me, as if they had released a sort of acid that ate into my flesh. After I went down, Sibley and Marcon carried me to my rooms. When I woke, it was to this monstrous facade.” He pressed his palms against his temples, as if by sheer will he could put everything back like it had been. “I was never a handsome man,” he whispered. “But I keep remembering how once, long ago, my