Sacrum
Chapter Twenty-One
The clock on my bedside erupted with the sound of my morning alarm, startling me out of my thoughts and making Neo jump up. The Black Demon, as Vincent had referred to him, seemed to believe that he was a lap dog, and had spent the entire night snoring in my face and giving me next to zero personal space.
"It's alright, it's just the alarm," I told him, while hitting the snooze button. He laid back down, unimpressed. I could hear the rain gently pattering on my window, and the sound made me want to stay in bed for the remainder of the day. Unfortunately, school was back in session.
I had been laying in bed for hours, pondering the idea of rebirth once again. Something about it just didn't make sense to me. Demetrius believed it was just an idea, snuffed out in the crib before it could ever learn to walk. But was an idea really a powerful enough threat for someone to eliminate Vinicius and put themselves at such a high risk? It seemed unlikely. If I was going to get to the bottom of his and Van Sant's deaths, I'd need to figure out all there was to know about rebirth. That wasn't going to be an easy, or pleasant, task. If I was caught snooping by the wrong person, it could quickly end in my demise. Still, I would need to try.
Then there were my less pressing, but not any less persistent, issues of the heart. Vincent was back, which made me incredibly happy, but it didn't exactly help alleviate all my worries regarding our relationship. He had so many secrets...how could I feel at ease? Perhaps Shakespeare was onto something when he famously wrote, "The course of true love never did run smooth." Or perhaps he was addicted to toxic relationships and unavailable partners.
I also couldn't get the dreams about Demetrius and my mentor out of my head. He seemed so tortured by it all as a little boy, but now he had turned cold and stoic. I wanted to help him, like he had helped me. On the morning that I ran into his room I wanted to do more than that...I wanted to hold him.
Tired of my muddled thoughts, I grabbed Neo's leash and took him for his morning walk. I still had to keep treats in my pocket, as he had a mind of his own and didn't seem keen on listening to me fifty percent of the time.
Afterwards, I went to reunite with my friends. Baritone High had a whole new security system in place when students returned from winter break. Aside from a new alarm system, we now had Protection League members patrolling the hallways and the exterior of the school.
"Do you think they report everything back to Deadnus?" I asked, walking along Laura and Angelo to Vampire History where we'd all have to be unhappily reunited with Professor Maratoni.
"No doubt about it," Angelo replied, looking at the guards with apprehension. I had already filled them in on the events of the Summit, and they were both horrified by what took place inside of the panic room underneath the school, with Laura calling it an "absolute breach of the law regarding vampire and human conduct."
Once inside the classroom, I pulled out my book and notebook and tried to get ahead on my reading. Vincent sat in the back of the class, giving me a cheeky wink when I looked over. We had decided it would be best to stay somewhat away from each other publicly with Deadnus' ghouls all over the school. I didn't need to give her any reason to reprimand Vincent for our relationship.
The class buzzed with conversation, but it all came to a halt when Maratoni stepped inside. His eyes briefly glanced over me, but he said nothing. He seemed to be in a somewhat chipper mood as he quickly plunged into a lecture on the history of vampires in Germany during WWII.
It was a lesson like any other, until it wasn't.
The first inkling that something was wrong were the heavy bootsteps outside. They reminded me of Vinicius' death and the soldiers who came to take me away. I stilled my body and listened carefully.
They barged in the door in their black uniforms followed by my nemesis-Arani Deadnus. I dropped my pen onto the notebook where I had been doodling as a distraction from Maratoni's lesson. The first soldier approached our professor and said, "Sebastiano Maratoni, you are under arrest for crimes against the State." Their guns, full of silver bullets, were drawn.
"What is this," Maratoni asked with a nervous laugh. "Is this some sort of a joke?" He turned to Deadnus.
"Does it look like a joke to you, Sebastiano?" She replied in a dead cold voice; her dark eyes fixated on him.
"Have you completely lost your goddamn mind Arani?!" He yelled, as a Protection League Officer placed him in handcuffs.
"I think the only one who's lost his mind is you. Aiding and abetting fugitives. You filthy animal," she spit out.
"What in the world are you talking about?" He asked, but she just looked at him with revulsion.
The entire class was eerily still and quiet.
And then the officers turned to Vincent, and my stomach fell.
"Salvatore Carandini, you are under arrest for crimes against the State," the vampire said, grabbing Vincent by the arm and putting him in handcuffs.
I couldn't speak or move. I wanted to get up and help him, which he must have read in my eyes because he made a slight head motion, as if telling me not to do anything. I listened.
Deadnus slowly approached him.
Please, I thought. Please don't hurt him.
She stared at him for a prolonged period of time before speaking.
"I was there when they killed your father and your little brother," she said quietly, and I had never heard soft spoken words sounds more vicious. "And I'll be there when they sentence you to die, Carandini scum."
Malice leaked from her lips like honey. He stared into her eyes, and I felt frightened by his look.
"Gianni va fi r?zbunat. ën aceast? via?? sau "n urm?toarea." I didn't understand the Romanian phrase, and neither did Deadnus.
"What did you say?" She snarled, but she didn't get an answer as our headmistress barged through the door.
"Release him," I heard Trusting's voice. Her face was full of distress.
"Boeriella, let me do my job," Deadnus dismissed her with a quick glance.
"He is not leaving this classroom," she replied defiantly, grabbing Deadnus' full attention.
"Excuse me?" The black-haired commander hissed, turning away from Vincent.
The whole classroom was frozen watching the exchange between the two female vampires.
"He is a minor, and therefore by vampire law you cannot arrest him on school grounds. He is going to turn himself in with an attorney present later today. Now please, release my student immediately," she insisted. I could tell she felt uncomfortable standing up to Deadnus, and I didn't blame her.
"You're interfering with my ability to carry out State orders," Deadnus warned.
"I'm upholding the law. Somebody has to," Trusting replied dryly. Deadnus was speechless for a brief moment.
"You'll regret this Boeriella," she said. "Release him," she barked at the officer that had Vincent handcuffed. "Don't worry, I'll see you soon enough," she said to Vincent, and left.
"Boeriella," Maratoni gasped, as they dragged him out.
"I'm sorry Sebastiano," she replied apologetically. "Class is dismissed," she said wearily after he was gone, then added, "Vincent, come with me."
"Where are you taking him?" I asked hoarsely.
"To meet with his attorney," she replied.
"I'll come find you when I'm back," he said, and Trusting pretended not to hear. I nodded my head. He was certain that he would be back, which gave me hope.
Angelo, Laura and I rushed to the cafeteria and spent the next couple hours going over what happened and spinning different theories about what fugitive Maratoni and Vincent might have potentially been harboring.
"What did he say to Deadnus?" I asked Angelo, the one with all the answers. Of course he knew.
"He said, 'Gianni will be avenged. In this life or the next.'" Laura and I shuddered with dread.
"What fugitives do you think she was talking about?" Laura asked.
"It must be someone related to Vincent," Angelo mused.
"You said they were all dead," I stated in surprise.
"We've been over this before, Dani. Most of his close family was killed, but it's been said that some of the more distant members escaped and went into a deep sleep. Rumor has it they hid in secret places, asking to be awakened only when the rightful heir was ready to take back the throne. That rightful heir is about to turn 18...what better time to wake up than now?" He concluded. I looked at him in shock. Could it be possible? Was Vincent gearing up to take back the throne that belonged to him and try to reinstate the monarchy? It seemed like such a foolish idea. How could a teenage vampire and one crooked Mentor be able to accomplish that? It wasn't plausible. We continued to talk about it until school officials ushered us back to our rooms.
Vincent didn't come to see me that evening, but I did get to see his face in my dreams, along with the face of my mentor, Vinicius.
It was another one of those dreams that felt more like a memory, just like the one with Demetrius.
Vinicius was in some type of school office, and Vincent looked much younger, probably middle-school age.
"Bun?, Vincent. Sau ai prefera s? te numesc Salvatore?" It seemed that my poor language skills didn't apply to my dreams, because even though I could tell Vinicius spoke Romanian, I understood that he said, "Hello Vincent. Or would you prefer that I call you Salvatore?" The dark-haired boy sitting across from him scowled defiantly. His face was set, and full of distrust.
"Vincent is fine, sir. And you can speak English," he replied as politely as he could muster-which wasn't saying a lot. Vinicius smiled kindly. I felt a pang of sorrow, wishing I could see his smile in real life just one more time.
"Yet I sense that it's not your preference. Am I wrong?" Vincent hesitated, as if he was unsure of whether to be honest or not. He chose to reveal the truth.
"Mama m? nume?te Salvatore," he divulged, quietly. Once again, my brain understood the phrase to mean, "My mother calls me Salvatore."
"Ah, naturally. It was, after all, the name she gave you when you were born. Do you know what it means?"
"She just said my grandfather picked it, and that it was given to me after a great man," Vincent replied shortly. "Are you here to find out anything else she might have told me, hoping I will give you useful information on the relatives who weren't massacred during the war?" He asked, bitterness painting his childish voice. Vinicius shook his head no.
"I have no interest in putting your family in any more danger. I only came to speak with you as a friend."
"We're not friends, sir," the boy replied with contempt.
"Not yet, but who says we can't be?"
"I don't need any friends."
"Ah, everybody needs friends. Even the grandson of King Romero Carandini." Vincent's eyes sparked with curiosity.
"You knew my grandfather?"
"Oh yes," Vinicius replied, then sat in silence, as if reliving all the memories.
"What...what was he like?" Vincent asked, and for the first time since the start of the conversation, he sounded like a young boy full of curiosity.
Vinicius thought about his reply for a moment.
"He had a naturally brilliant mind. Unlike me, he didn't need to spend hours buried in books, he learned things instinctively. He was one of the most charismatic vampires I'd ever met, and as you know, I've met quite a few." Vincent perked up, his eyes shining with excitement.
"Am I anything like him?" He asked. Vinicius studied his face for a while.
"You have certainly inherited his looks and his charisma. And your teachers tell me you're doing quite well in your classes, therefore I can safely say that you have inherited his intelligence as well," he replied, and Vincent seemed thrilled about the comparison. Vinicius went on, "But have you also inherited his propensity for violence? His nihilistic approach to humanity? His narcissism and selfish belief that we're all here to act in our own best interest, and that nothing besides our wants and needs matters?" Vincent's eyes turned dark again. "Does it excite you, the idea of power?" Vincent looked down.
"Sometimes," he replied quietly.
"And what would you do, if the monarchy was reinstated, and you sat on your grandfather's throne today?" Vinicius asked gently.
"I would get revenge," Vincent replied truthfully, raising his eyes back up, as if to challenge Vinicius.
"And what would that bring you?" Vinicius asked, calm as ever.
"Satisfaction."
"And then where would you end up, if not right next to your grandfather. Decapitated and with a stake through your heart. He would have wanted you to learn from his mistakes."
"You don't know what he would have wanted," Vincent replied harshly.
"No, but I do know he loved you very much. You and your brother, Gianni. Lifetimes of anger is not what he would have chosen for his beloved grandson."
"Are you going to report what I have to say?"
"No, what you say will stay here in this room, between us." Vincent hesitated for a moment.
"I think about it often...making them all pay for what they did. I have vivid fantasies of hurting the men who hurt my mother. I think... violent thoughts. Does that make me bad?" He asked. Vinicius continued to look at him with kindness, unphased by the words.
"When I was a 50-year-old man, I was turned into a vampire against my will. I spent years seething in anger and plotting my revenge against the vampire that had wronged me so unjustly. Your entire family was wiped out, Salvatore, I think it's only natural that you feel angry."
"And did you...take revenge?" Vinicius hesitated in his answer. I had never seen him falter before.
"I did. And after the momentary high from executing my plan and destroying my enemy was complete, I was right back to where I left off. Feeling angry and resentful. My enemy's death didn't alleviate any of the rot that had accumulated inside me." I stared at the scene in shock. There were so many things I still did not know about Vinicius.
"What did?" Vincent asked.
"Forgiveness." Vincent looked away; forgiveness was not on the menu for him. "Not forgetting, nobody in their right mind would ask that of you. But forgiving is the only way to move past it." Vincent looked back, his face set like it was at the beginning of their conversation.
"Were there any other questions you had for me, sir? I have quite a bit of homework to get to, if you don't mind." Vinicius had lost him. Vincent was not ready to hand out forgiveness to anyone. The old vampire smiled wistfully.
"Go ahead my boy," he said, and Vincent quickly got up. But as he approached the door, Vinicius calmly said, almost as an afterthought, "Numele t?u "nseamn? salvator." It translated to, "It means savior."
"I'm sorry?" Vincent asked, turning his head to look at the wise vampire.
"Salvatore, your name. It means savior. Not destroyer, not avenger...savior."
"How do you know?"
"Let an old man carry at least one secret with him to the grave," Vinicius said, winking at Vincent and smiling pleasantly. The dark-haired boy seemed confused, but he said nothing, just nodded his head and left.
As I awoke, I finally came to a painful realization. Vinicius had more than just one secret.
Questions and feedback can be sent to c.hendersonfic@gmail.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.