“No, it’s not. My brother Markus Cole and I, Grady Cole, were sent here to deliver a message.”
The big, rugged vampire’s eyebrows rose. “I am familiar with your family name. Why send the both of you and not Clayton himself or Tabatha?”
“My father opted to send us; we know not why,” Grady stated plainly.
“I don’t believe you,” she said simply.
“It’s the truth,” Grady said with as much confidence as he could assemble.
“Give us the message, and we will confer with the two leaders,” another vampire stated.
“No! We were given specific instructions to speak with only Sol and Maryl.”
“I don’t trust these two, Ariel! Let’s kill them!” a vampire said to the tall, rough one.
Markus met Ariel’s eyes and was reasonably confident they would perish.
“You don’t want to do that,” Grady responded instantly.
Ariel put her hand on Grady’s head and started stroking his long dark hair. “Oh? And why is that, Grady of the sweet-smellers?”
“Because we’re Clayton’s…”
Ariel grabbed a chunk and pulled on Grady’s long hair tightly. “I said, I know who your family is. Give me one good reason why we shouldn’t kill you right here and now?”
Grady’s head faced the sky as he felt the pull on his hair tighten. “We come in peace and have to speak to Sol and Maryl only. Do you really want to feel my father’s wrath, along with my entire tribes? Killing Clayton’s children and Tabatha's grandchildren is the same as taking your own life!” Grady countered.
Silence engulfed the group.
“He speaks the truth, Ariel! Let them pass, and we will escort them,” one of the vampires said with reservation. “I, for one, do not want to risk the ire of the Cole clan.”
Ariel put her long arms on her hips and looked at Grady and Markus for several seconds. “Okay, but I will take rear guard in case more of them are nearby, and this is just a ruse for a full-scale incursion.”
They were tied up and bound. The ropes dug into their skin. Grady knew as soon as he and Markus consumed some human blood, the rope burns would vanish despite not feeling any pain.
They walked several kilometers through trees, large bushes, and plenty of grasslands. Grady noticed there was a lack of crop fields. He wondered what sort of occupations the other smellers did.
After a clearing, they came upon dwellings that varied in size. They were led to one of the larger homes. Grady could see smoke coming from a chimney nearby.
The whole village of the vampires came out of their abodes and stared.
He sniffed the air and found it repugnant. He almost vomited. Grady looked at Markus, who was throwing up human food.
“Why the sour look, Grady of the Cole Tribe?” The tall woman asked with amusement.
“What are you cooking? It smells disgusting! I thought you other types didn’t like human food?”
“We don’t. We loathe it. We are not cooking human food. We are making something your blood types don’t like.”
“Wait… you purposely produced smells that we can’t stand? What for?” After his last sentence, Grady felt the need to throw up. He looked around and threw up beside Markus.
“In case we ever had to protect our villages from the likes of your kind!” Ariel sniffed the air and smiled. “I find the smell rather pleasant.”
Grady had nothing left to regurgitate. The dry heaves were worse. He wondered if he was at full strength if the stench would cause so much displeasure.
They were led away from the horrendous smell through some trees until one lone house sat in the middle of a field.
“Sol the Mediator and Maryl, the Seeker, are in that house and agreed to see you both. Consider yourselves lucky. This is as far as we are allowed to go. Go to the house and knock,” Ariel said before turning around.
“We need to tell our tribes about their new stench smelling weapon they have invented, Grady!” Markus whispered harshly.
“Hush, Markus! They can hear you!”
They walked hesitantly to the house and knocked.
A smaller man answered the door. Despite his diminutive size, he radiated raw power. Grady could see a few strands of grey hair, which surprised him. He was told vampires were immortal.
“Sit down,” Sol commanded.
“Don’t be so rude to our guests, Sol,” Maryl said as she patted the couch next to the chairs she and Sol sat. Her hair was cut short, which emphasized her soft features. Grady doubted there was anything soft about Maryl.
Grady and Markus walked to the sofa with downcast eyes and sat down. Their tentativeness spoke volumes to the rulers.
“What can we do for the emissaries of the Cole tribe?” Maryl asked in amusement.
“We’re not emissaries,” Markus stated firmly.
“Do you not represent the Cole tribe?” Maryl said with enjoyment.
“Yes, we do,” Grady said as he looked at Markus to keep quiet. “His vocabulary is lacking.”
“Ah, nothing is better than a good education, save for the art of combat,” Sol remarked.
“Why are you here?” Maryl asked simply.
“We have a message from the council of the A and B tribes,” Grady said slowly.
Silence followed.
Maryl put her fingers to her lips in contemplation. “And what is the message, young one?”
“We’re nearly two hundred and fifty years old!” Markus remarked.
“Markus, would you please shut up so I can deliver the message? They don’t care how old we are!”
Markus fumed but did not respond.
“The council members request a meeting with both of you,” Grady said with more confidence than he felt.
“Where do they wish us to meet?” Maryl asked as she took a glass of red nourishment and took a sip.
“In a week by the trees that bend to the ground.”
“And what is the nature of the meeting?” Sol demanded.
“We do not know because we were not told,” Grady said respectfully.
“Why not?” Sol asked with force.
“We are not privy to such information.”
“And why aren’t you in the know?” Maryl asked with a mounting smile.
Grady looked at Maryl. “Because we are only emissaries, as you stated. We are not on
