Turned

Chapter Twelve.

Prague, Czech Republic.

A Royal family used to reside in Prague, there was a castle there bigger than any of the giant cathedrals. They used to live in silence, always keeping to themselves and only ever leaving Czech when there would be a Royal meeting of the houses, yet the children of the Varga family bloodline were never seen nor heard of. Jozef Varga and his wife Maria were said to have had two beautiful daughters with hair of snow and eyes so gold that they glistened like a newly polished crown. Martina was the eldest, a true beauty that matured at the age of fifteen, her voice was so beautiful that when she sang, men from the town would follow its noise and fall to their knees in a trance before her. Katarina was the youngest at ten years old, however her voice was very different from that of her sisters. It is said that she could shatter every window in Czech just by screaming. It was their gifts, blessings from the moon Goddess, Selena and the Goddess of the night, Nyx. We had reached Prague the next morning and ventured into the town to find the castle in which the Royal family resided, but it looked abandoned from the outside “Perhaps they are dead?” Hamish offered, voicing our worst fears. Julius looked like he was in a trance, trapped somewhere far away in thought of the family he had most likely known at some point. Whatever was hunting Julius was after the rest of the Royals as well which made it entirely possible that they had been killed long before we reached Czech. I was the first to move, my legs carrying me up the steps and into the gaping wide doors of the castle. Windows were broken, and dust littered every surface in the foyer. Leaves ran across the floor, blown by the wind and cobwebs were placed in every corner “It would seem so” Graham agreed with Hamish’s earlier words, nodding when he stepped into the foyer behind me. Julius saddened, and Fiona noticed, quick to grab hold of his arm and say in the best convinced tone she could muster “Nonsense, they most likely fled to a safer location” I knelt on the ground when something caught my attention. I reached my hand out to brush leaves and twigs away as Hanna stood beside me, watching what I was doing. Beneath the blood were dried drops of crusted blood, left behind from some time ago. I looked up at Julius to find his eyes locked onto my form “Azrael roamed these halls” Graham went stiff at the mention of a figure from his religion. He was a Catholic despite not wanting to show it, but at night I could hear him praying, hear him speaking to someone and asking for strength. Azrael was the Angel of death which had Julius bowing his head and Hamish shooting him a worried look from across the room. Fiona gasped when she was shoved away from him “Excuse me” he made his way out the castle and disappeared as Fiona stared after him. I glanced at Hanna, her eyebrows furrowed up in confusion and told her to follow him, to comfort him through our connection. She nodded, bowing slightly then left, striding past Fiona, the laps of her dress spreading out behind her like wings when she moved. I knew Julius would not touch her without my consent and would merely bask in her embrace as she would hold him, cradle him like a child “You are taking him away from me” Fiona declared, her eyes narrowing onto my form as I stood upright once more. She had accepted me for a while after I had saved her on the bridge and fed her, however she still hated me as much as I despised the Order “Fiona-.” Hamish tried to calm her, reaching out to place a firm hand on her shoulder, but she quickly shook it off and interrupted him. She was angry at herself for not being able to help Julius in his time of sorrow, so she took her frustration out on me “He used to reside in me, he used to turn to me for comfort!” I stayed silent, knowing that there was no point in arguing with a frantic woman. There was no doubt in my mind that Fiona saw herself as his mother because of her affair with John, playing more into the role when both parents were killed. She glanced towards the side where a door was stood ajar when I did not respond and without hesitation stormed off through the door, disappearing into the castle. Hamish shot me an apologetic smile then followed to make sure that she was alright “Who is the boy to you?” it was a question that caught me off guard. I turned my attention to Graham who was stood by the double doors, hands in the pockets of his brown trench coat as he gazed out into the front yard that stretched on into the distance until the town structures popped up on the horizon “He is my…apprentice” I said, staring out the front door for a moment before I turned to head up the grand staircase that lead up to four other floors. Graham was referring to Julius, the youngest of our group at only eighteen. He followed me up the stairs, his boots thudding heavily against the wood “Apprentice?” he wondered out loud. I paused momentarily, glancing back down at him with a hidden thought crossing my mind. He had been a member of the Order, did the Order not know about such trivial Vampiric customs such as forming a contract? “There are two types of Vampires, those who are wise and experienced and those who are young and naïve” I began, finding that I had nothing better to do than tell him of our world. I turned and ventured up the rest of the stairs until it broke out into a hallway where the smell of lavender hung thickly in the air. My eyes followed the scent to the end of the hall, my mind wondering “It is customary for younger Vampires to form contracts with wiser ones” I followed the smell, my feet stepping one before the other, the heels of my boots hitting the brown carpeting first followed by the toes. The sound of water dripping reached my ears long before it did Graham’s “The older Vampires known as mentors would then teach their apprentice in the art of combat or knowledge in return for their…services” Graham noticed the pause in my voice as we approached a door near the end of the hall. I could smell the scent stronger than ever along with the sound of water. The air was damper in that area which meant that a bathroom sat beyond the door “What services?” Graham questioned, his eyes locked onto me while I reached out to open the door, pushing it open to reveal a neat, tidy bathroom that seemed to be untouched by what had destroyed the rest of the castle. There was warm water in the tub and lavender bath bombs sat on the edge of it, a few have already been used “A mentor can ask for many things, murder, errands…sex” Graham’s breath caught in his throat when I stepped into the bathroom. I glanced down at the warm water but there was no one beneath it, the place was empty. A breeze blew in from outside and I looked up to find that the bathroom window was thrown wide open, sheer curtains dancing in the wind “Would you ask that of him?” I was growing tired of the questions, but his rising jealousy intrigued me. I looked up at him to find that he was leaning back against the wall, beside the door, watching me with empty eyes and flaring nostrils. I shot him a faint smile “When the time is right, yes” Graham had no interest in the rest of the things I had mentioned, only concerned about the physical pleasure that I would receive from Julius one day. After a long pause he nodded his head sternly then turned to leave. He was halfway out the door when I spoke, stopping him dead in his tracks “It is common for a mentor to have more than one apprentice at a time” I did not look at him but out of the corner of my eye I could see him turn his head to glance back at me, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He then left, leaving me alone with my thoughts. He had caught on to what I was trying to say, that even if Julius was my apprentice there was still a chance for him to capture my heart. I ran my fingers through the water and began to sing an old Irish tune that I had heard in a bar one night. Someone was still living in the castle; the person having fled when we arrived, but their identity eluded me. I lifted my hand out of the water and watched it trickle down. I was satisfied with myself, having convinced Graham that he had a chance meant that I was one step closer to finding the location of the Order.

The sun had long since set over the horizon. I stood by the open window of the room I was staying in with Hanna at an inn in town. I could not sleep, the thoughts of who had been occupying the castle, tangled in my mind as I leaned against the windowsill. My arms were crossed as I listened to Hanna mutter something in her sleep and turn onto her side, her face towards me. I looked her over, her lips slightly parted, night gown tugged down to expose more of her chest than usual. Her skin was like chocolate from the finest crafters in France and glistened in the full moon light, as smooth and slick as silk. Her hair, though a dark auburn had a vibrant red tint to it and her thin eyebrows were slightly scrunched up as she slept. I left my place by the window to stand at her side, hand reaching out to gently tug the sheets up to her waist, covering her bare legs. My hand lingered over her body, hovering towards her face where I brushed a few stay strands back, fingertips lightly tracing her skin. I closed my eyes and for a moment I could see what she was dreaming through the bond of our contract. She was stood in a field of bright red tulips, her hair dancing in the wind as she clutched the skirts of her white gown in hand, a large white sun hat sat atop her head as she looked out onto something in the distance. I made my way over to her and took a stand at her side to see what she was smiling so lovingly at. There in the grassy patch below was a boy of around ten with dark brown hair and brown eyes that matched Hanna’s perfectly from before she was turned. Hanna took a step forward “Michal!” she called out his name, holding onto her sun hat when a strong gust of wind blew against her. She hurried down the slope, towards him and embraced him in a hug, falling to her knees in front of the boy. The sun was shining above with a clear blue sky surrounding it, something that I could only experience in dreams. I gazed up at the sky, but it soon shifted into an old, creaking house that was starting to fall apart and smelled of moss. Hanna was sitting on a small bed, rags dangling from her bony shoulders as she ran her hand through the hair of the boy who was now resting his head in her lap. She sang to him, an old German song as more children rushed by, their feet thudding against the wooden flooring as they laughed and played with makeshift toys. The boy was younger there, much like Hanna who looked around fifteen with shorter hair and not yet fully developed facial features. I stood near the doorway of the room lined with beds, watching when a hefty woman moved past me, her body gliding through half of me as she stormed over to the pair, reaching out to grab hold of the boy’s arm, yanking him up, off the bed “Come, they are waiting” the woman said in German as the boy tried to struggle his way out of her grasp. He reached for Hanna and she tried to take him, but the woman shoved her in the chest when she tried to protest, sending her back down on the surface of the bed where she hurried to get back up “Hanna!” the boy yelled, thrashing against the woman as hard as he could to get to her. She ran after them, heading down the stairs but pausing at the top of them to gaze down at the scene below. I moved to stand by the railing, peering down at what she saw. A young couple stood by the doors of the orphanage, bags surrounding their feet, bags of Michal’s few articles of clothing and possessions. The couple wrapped him in a tight hug, holding him close, so lovingly, so kindly that Hanna could not bear it to interrupt them. The couple would be good to him, that was easy to see, and Hanna wanted her little brother to have the best chance at life. She was too old to get adopted by a loving family, but Michal was there, ready to have a life of opportunities that Hanna could not drag him away from. Her hand gripped the railing, body sliding down to sit with her knees tucked neatly underneath her on the dirt ridden carpet, meeting her brother’s eyes with tears in her own. It happened so fast, Michal was too overwhelmed by the attention to do much protesting, later being lead out of the house and to the carriage waiting below. He glanced back at Hanna, calling out to her one last time, but she did not move, placing a forced smile onto her lips that took all the strength in the world to hold long enough for the hefty woman to close the door and her to break into tears. She wept, cried for weeks, months even until she was so numb she could barely speak. It was a hard sacrifice, one that she pondered over every single day of her life. She constantly asked herself whether she had done the right thing or not. She had given him a chance at life, a chance to become something, to be able to have a family of his own one day. Hanna would turn sixteen soon and be forced to leave the orphanage, after that her life on the streets would begin, begging, scavenging for many years until I would find her, raped and bloodied in that abandoned building. She wondered if Michal was angry with her, if he hated her for letting him go, but surely, he was too young to understand what she had tried to give him. I opened my eyes to look down at her sleeping self, her face scrunched up in pain as she muttered something in protest. I placed my palm flat against her forehead and projected an image into her mind, one where she was seated on a large, lavish bed with Michal in front of her, gripping a pillow to hit her with, laughing soundly. She began to laugh and smile along with him, holding him close and playfully smothering him with a pillow. I was about to let go and let her continue to rest when her dream took a turn of its own. I was stood at the foot of the bed, watching them, another me, a me from her dreams that she created. She gently set Michal aside and crawled her way towards me, reaching up to place a quick kiss to my lips before asking me to join them in playing. In her dream I did, but in real life I would most likely have refused and taken a seat in the chair that sat in the corner of the room. I pulled my hand away from her and smiled lightly at the thought of her considering me someone very important in her life, along with her little brother. The sound of boots crunching against the freshly fallen snow caught my attention, drawing it back towards the window where a figure was moving through the snow, heading in the direction of the forest. I stepped closer to windowsill, my hand reaching out to grip the frame as I leaned forward, my eyes following the person. It was a familiar scent that came from them, their brown coat fluttering in the breeze and exposing their face for a brief second. It was Graham, his face hidden behind the flaps of his coat and hands stuffed into its pockets to keep his fingers from catching frostbite. I stepped up onto the windowsill, my body crouched as I leaned forward, waiting for him to reach the tree line and once he did, I flung myself out, falling two stories and landing on the balls of my feet in the snow. My feet were bare, body only clad in a small piece of fabric as I stood and followed him, keeping a safe distance away so that he would not notice me. My hands brushed against the bases of the trees I passed, the sky clear and the moon providing enough light for even a human to navigate in the dark. Graham reached a clearing and began to strip, kicking his boots aside, shrugging his jacket off his shoulder, unbuckling his trousers and tugging his shirt over his head, leaving every article of clothing discarded in the snow until he was stood stark naked. I crouched low behind some leafless bushes, fingers digging into the snow as I watched, my curiosity getting the better of me. What was a human male doing out at night, naked in the snow? He rolled his shoulders and a cracking sound filled my ears, the snapping of bones as he looked up at the full moon. He reached up to claw at his back, tearing the skin from it to reveal a pelt of dark brown fur. My mouth opened slightly as I stood upright, slowly straightening my legs until I could see every inch of him, his back was towards me which proved it a difficult task. He cried out, his knees buckling under him and causing him to fall into the snow, hands gripping at anything as his feet and legs kicked violently, his toes tearing to reveal claws as his muscles grew to twice their normal size, his spine poking through his skin and elongating to form a tail that whipped back and forth in the snow. He screamed again, throwing his head back when it turned from a scream to a low howl. The realization struck me then, the fact that he was anything but human resonating in my mind. He was a Werewolf, a monster of the moon and a cursed breed. I stepped out from my hiding spot and into the clearing, my bare feet crunching into the snow, alerting him of my presence. He turned to snarl at me, canines bared as he watched me with wide yellow eyes that seemed to glow in the moonlight. I did not fear him, and he could sense my confidence as I moved towards him, each step sharp and precise. He backed away a few steps when I neared him, his fur standing on end and back arched as an attempt to make him look bigger. He stood towering over me, the size of a large horse with his head being around the side of my torso. I stopped in front of him, my hand reaching out to place my palm against his forehead but before I could, he turned and stared in a random direction, taking off at lightning speed. I followed, my body moving at a similar speed until we broke out into the front yard of the castle where we had been earlier. There he stopped, snarling at something I could not see. I stepped closer, eyes landing on the figure of a girl, a young girl with hair as white as snow that hung down to her thighs and eyes a bright gold. She wore a red dress, but the closer I got, the clearer it was that the dress had been white at some point. Graham stood beside me, his attention on the girl when he shot forward, ready to attack her. Werewolves had first been created through a curse, the curse of a Witch, created to rid the world of Vampires, it was in their blood to hunt and kill Vampires. He raced towards her, his body like a boulder, rolling off the side of a steep cliff, unable to be stopped. I stayed still, silent, watching and expecting the girl to defend herself since she was a Vampire, but instead a man leaped down from the treetops, landing in a crouch in front of Graham, stopping the wolf dead in its tracks. Graham came to a skidded stop, causing snow to flair out around him, carried away by the wind. The man was dressed only in a pair of low hung trousers, his muscular chest, riddled in various tattoos visible for all to see. He stood up, meeting the wolf head on with his fists balled at his sides “Back down brother” Graham took a few steps back when the man spoke, turning to look at the Vampiric girl that stood calmly behind him, her eyes drooped in boredom as she gazed up at the hulking man, who was larger than Graham and Julius combined “Are you alright my lady?” he asked the girl, who nodded her head once, turning it to look directly at me from across the white yard. I knew who she was from her profile, she was the youngest daughter of the Varga family line and most likely the person who had been living inside the castle before we arrived. The man looked to be her guardian, her protector much like I was charged with protecting Julius, he was tasked with protecting Katarina “You are Evana De La Crona, Xavier Cartel’s apprentice” she declared, her eyes looking straight through me and into my soul. It was not uncommon for Royals to be aware of other’s apprentices’, so it did not take me off guard, what caught me off guard was that she had no idea of Xavier’s death “I used to be, yes” I answered, my voice low but she could hear me, even from such a great distance away. I moved forward, my hips swaying as I moved, my arms hung loosely at my sides, relaxed despite the large wolf that turned to snarl at me when I approached “He is dead, killed by the Order of the Silver Cross” I announced to which her eyes widened slightly but they were still half closed. She examined me when I stopped beside Graham, taking in the sight of my half naked body, smooth legs and arms along with a plunging neckline. She nodded, taking the news well for a child, more mature than most, maybe even more mature than Julius “Well, it was expected because of his daring nature” she said, causing a smile to touch my lips. Xavier was a risk taker, a man that constantly searched for adrenaline and therefor he always got into some sort of trouble, that trouble and thrill seeking having been his end “I am-.” she began to introduce herself, her hand placed palm down on her chest when she spoke, however I interrupted her, knowing exactly who she was and what her titles were “Katarina Varga of the Varga family bloodline, also known as the Banshee” she tilted her head curiously to the side at the sound of her nickname, a name wide known across the supernatural world. Her screams were powerful, able to destroy buildings from the sheer force of their sound waves. It was indeed true that she was beautiful, it was hard to believe that a young girl with no breasts or curves could be so alluring, her face captivating even myself “Such a terrible thing to be named after” she muttered, raising her head upright and sighing heavily as she closed her eyes for a brief moment Her hands were neatly folded in front of her, like a proper lady and she wore small black heels on her feet that stood out against the snow “They used to call Martina the Siren, such a lovely name, paired with a lovely voice” she dwelled, her eyes turning to look at the sky where the stars glistened and no clouds could be seen. The unknown man lowered his head, hiding his face in what I sensed was shame. It did not take a genius to realize what had happened. The man had been charged to protect both of the daughters, but had failed and Martina had been killed “My deepest apologies” I said, bowing my head to show respect towards the young Royal. Her lips curled up slightly, the pain hidden behind the gold of her eyes as the man at her side moved to stand protectively behind her, watching Graham with weary eyes “I fear it is time for us to go” the man said to Katarina who turned her head to glance back up at him. His eyes were a hazel yellow, much like those of Graham and his hair was a thick black that stood messily on the top of his head. His words from before echoed in my mind, he had called Graham brother but was it because he too was a Werewolf or was he really of the Young name? “Who are you, sir?” I asked directly, my eyes locking onto his as he towered over me by nearly two heads. He was a giant, much taller than the tallest man I had ever laid eyes on. The man’s jaw clenched, and he looked down at his charge who nodded in approval “Roland Young” my eyes snuck a quick glance at Graham who was baring his teeth at his brother, an elder brother from the looks of things. I nodded and gave a low curtsy in a mockingly manor, my eyes never straying away from Roland when I spoke “It is a pleasure meeting you, dog” he was not impressed, his nostrils flaring as Graham turned to snarl at me. I ignored him and shot the elder brother a sly grin, revealing my intentions of teasing him. Katarina merely stood watching, no emotion crossing her stone face as she observed me carefully “I take it, you’re my brother’s b***h” a round of laughter escaped my lips, Katarina, despite her age showing no sign of being shocked or insulted by his use of language. I stood upright and turned to look at the wolf beside me, a large, majestic beast that was watching me with curious eyes, wondering what my answer would be “We are lovers of sorts” I replied, nodding my head in agreement. Roland narrowed his eyes, finding the thought of a Vampire and Werewolf engaging in intimate acts a bit appalling. My eyes shifted to Katarina, her aura of power radiating from her despite her small stature and filling my senses with a need to serve. She was a true Royal, a Royal like Xavier, one worthy of the title “I bid you farewell, miss Varga” I said, bowing my head slightly. She uncrossed her hands, taking hold of the bloodied silks of her gown to curtsy in a much more perfected manor than I had before, in a way showing me how it was properly done “Goodnight, Evana” she turned to head into the castle, her hair bouncing with every step that she took. Roland stayed behind a few seconds longer, glaring at both me and Graham before following her, only to have her stop just short of the front steps that lead up to the gaping double doors, hanging from their hinges “Oh and I do expect to see you tomorrow” there was no time for me to respond before she was gone, along with Roland, leaving me alone with the towering brown wolf. I headed back to the inn, Graham threading silently beside me, his head hung low, sniffing the snow and dirt beneath it for any sign of unknown scents. Him being a Werewolf did manage to surprise me, the fact that I had not realized for so long almost an insult to my skills. Werewolves do not heal as fast as Vampires do, they heal at human pace, but it takes much more than a few simple wounds to kill them. He was waiting for me to speak, to voice my displeasure and hatred towards him, however I felt, I could not let him know of those feelings, needing to gain his trust to locate my enemies “I would like to hear more about all of this” was all I said, my eyes staring straight ahead when we reached the clearing where he shifted and began to get dressed. He did not respond, instead staring at the snow-covered ground as he dressed and walked me back to my room at the inn where he bid me a good night and returned to his room to rest before the sun would once again rise.