The Vampire Executioner (A necromancer romance novel)

Esmeralda I was looking at myself in the mirror, miserably. I was a vampire and yes, we could see our reflections. I was almost as dark as an obsidian crystal or the night herself as my mother used to always say. She loved to romanticize words, she had a way with words that left you feeling beautiful and special, but I didn’t feel beautiful or special right now. My mother had been human, and it had been many years since I’d heard her voice. I was two hundred years old, very young for a vampire, but right now, I felt a million years old, exhaustion clung to my bones like wet cloth. Most vampires fed on human blood. Blood gave strength, beauty, power. It sharpened the senses and enhanced abilities until vampires became creatures so beautiful it hurt to look at them. Technically, we could survive on human energy too. Emotions. Fear. Joy. Desire. Sorrow. It was no wonder no vampires chose to feed on human energy though, because it didn’t make you strong like blood did, it didn’t give you any abilities, it kept you from rotting, and it kept you alive…barely. Stupid me, I had been too much of an empath in my human life, and it stuck with me in my vampire life or was it unlife now? I couldn’t bear the thought of draining the life of a human, of hearing their heartbeat stutter and fade beneath my hands. So instead, I chose to feed on their emotions, it left them feeling weak and tired but otherwise unharmed. Weakness for weakness. Ironic. Now my body was paying the price. I leaned in closer to the mirror. My face was starting to become more gaunt and pale, if that was even possible, my lips had lost their colour. Even my curls—once thick black spirals that cascaded to my waist—had become brittle and dull, streaked with strange grey tones. Broken strands littered the marble sink beneath me, my hair was slowly falling out. I was starting to worry that feeding on emotions alone wasn’t enough, that there would come a time when I would die. It wasn’t so much the dying I was afraid of, though. If we didn’t feed regularly, we would slowly start to rot and decay. Skin peeled. Flesh softened. Bones weakened. And if we didn’t feed at all we would rot until eventually, we would be nothing but a pile of fleshy meat, and that was what I was afraid was going to happen to me soon. I pushed the fear about my impending doom down and taking a deep breath—not that I needed to truly breathe anymore—I left the bathroom. The mansion stretched around me in suffocating luxury—towering marble columns, polished white floors, crystal chandeliers dripping gold light across the ceilings. The air smelled faintly of expensive perfume, old wood, and blood. Always blood. Music drifted softly from somewhere deeper in the mansion, mingling with distant laughter. I tried to hide in the shadows and avoid Sadie. She was around five hundred years old and a s******c b.itch. She hated me more than I hated myself, if that was possible. She couldn’t stand the thought that I refused to drink human blood, most of the clan couldn’t, but she always seemed particularly physically disgusted by it and never failed to try to make my life as miserable as possible. Unfortunately as always, she saw me. “Oh, here comes the ugly duckling, wonderful,” she laughed to her friends Judith and Paula. They weren’t much younger than Sadie and followed her around like lambs, if she said ‘jump’, I had no doubt they would literally ask her, ‘how high.’ I ducked my head low and walked past them as fast as I could. I could have retorted something back, but that would have only ended in physical pain for me and, well, there wasn’t really an insult I could give her, she was drop-dead gorgeous. She had long soft wavy locks of hair that ran like a river down to her perfect bottom. Her hair was a shade of all blonde, woven together like sunlight through honey— white, pale gold, dark, sandy and even a hint of true gold in there. Her skin was as perfect as a porcelain doll, full lips, a big bust on a slim toned body and ice blue eyes with a ring of bright molten gold that watched me with predatory amusement. She was unnaturally beautiful, like most of the vampires here, ok, all of them, except for me. I was the only vampire here that still looked like the human I once was except for my obsidian skin that had turned a few shades darker since becoming a vampire. I was only tolerated by the other vampires because luckily, our queen Lillian was fearsome but fair. She ruled the city of Los Angeles with an elegance that masked something terrifying beneath it. At nearly three thousand years old, she was one of the most powerful vampires in America. She believed fiercely in free will…to a point, and so if I wanted to feed only on the energy and emotions of humans then so be it, but the consequences were mine to face alone. So, the others mostly left me alone for fear of her wrath and out of respect for her. Only Sadie pushed the limits and was physically abusive to me. I suspected insanity had touched her sometime during her turning, twisting something vital inside her mind. She was by no means stupid though, she would only hurt me when the queen was away on business, she knew that no one would tell the queen because nobody cared about me. This was the queens mansion and we were all gathered at the bottom of those swirling stairs. A hush suddenly swept across the mansion and everyone looked up at the balcony where the queen was standing. Queen Lillian stood at the top balcony like a figure painted from fire and blood. She was much more beautiful than Sadie. Her elaborate gown spilled crimson silk across the marble floor behind her, and her hair—pinned into intricate curls and braids—shimmered in shades of copper, ruby, and deep auburn like phoenix feathers caught in flame. Her dark red eyes swept over the room, the gold rings around her pupils gleaming sharply. Even from across the hall, power rolled off her in suffocating waves. “Good evening everybody, I hope you find yourselves well this very night.” She spoke in a lilting and soft voice, but I knew she was anything but soft if angered. No one was really sure why we were here tonight, but there had been rumors, rumors of a vampire hunter in town. Feeding on human emotions didn’t give me any vampiric abilities, but there was one thing it did, it made me a strong empath. I didn’t mean just understanding people’s pain or joy or any of that, I meant I could literally feel it with them, if someone was crying, and I was nearby I would cry with them, for them. If someone panicked, terror slithered into my bloodstream like venom. Joy, rage, despair—emotions bled into me whether I wanted them or not. I wasn’t sure if it was a gift or a curse. And right now, I could feel the tension and anxiety in the air among the vampires, I didn’t feel vampires emotions as strongly as I did humans, but right now with so many of us gathered here I could feel the anxiety in the air. The tension was suffocating. Whispers spread through the crowd. Fingers twitched. Eyes darted nervously towards exits. Even vampire old enough to remember wars stood rigid and uneasy beneath the glittering chandelier light. That alone terrified me. Vampires were predators. Predators were not supposed to look afraid. I shook off the shiver that ran through me, rubbing my arms and waited for queen Lillian to explain why we were here. “I know you may have heard some rumors about a hunter being in our city, and tonight I can confirm this is true.” Instantly the mansion erupted into noise. She raised her hands up. “I know, I know,” she continued calmly. “We’ve dealt with vampire hunters before and like all battles, we’ve lost some of our own, but we have always won.” Her tone took on a deadly tone at the next part. The temperature in the room seemed to drop. “But vampire hunter…” her voice lowered dangerously. “He isn’t like any other we’ve come across before.” A ripple of unease swept through the crowd, and I felt every ounce of it stab me at once. “He is not merely a human hunter,” Lillian continued. “He is the deadliest threat you will ever come across in your immortal lives.” No one moved. Even Sadie had gone pale. “And I warn you now, do not give him a reason to so much as look in your direction. If you play with your food, if you leave any evidence, you will not be helped, you have been warned.” The threat hung heavily in the air. Near the back of the room someone whispered, “what is she talking about? It’s just another hunter, I’ve killed more than ten in my lifetime.” Lillian gave him a scathing look and even though her words were for him, she made sure to raise her voice and address it to the whole room. “Do not be stupid!” She hissed. The chandeliers flickered above us violently. “Do not expect a fair fight with this hunter, do not treat him like the hunters you have come across before.” The vampire shrank back without another word. Lillian descend one step from the balcony, crimson silk trailing behind her like spilled blood. “He is not simply a vampire hunter, you all know him, you’ve heard the stories, but we do not know what he looks like, who he is, or if he is even a ‘he’ at all, we only know him by two names.” Nobody breathed. Then, without another word, Lillian stormed off to her room leaving us all gaping and wide-eyed. For several long seconds, no one moved. Because we knew now who she was talking about. Rumours of a hunter who not only killed vampires, but was also a necromancer. Someone with the ability to control the dead, to raise the dead and even destroy the dead. Some called him the Executioner. Others called him something far worse. Death.