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Page 7 of When We Lost The Moon

“Doesn’t that—”

“Make us a bit crazy? Yes, yes it does. And shaves a couple of decades off our lifespan, no doubt. But we drain the bone to the fucking marrow.” His smile grew larger, and his hands spread apart, tossing the deck of cards through the air like an accordion. It was both mesmerizing and unnerving, like the sound of a rattlesnake just before it strikes.

“As far as I’m aware, your king thwarted several of your attempts already. He is powerful, though from the reports I’ve received, he appears to be missing. Although we have no love for your king, he is a formidable adversary. We have no wish to start a war.”

“He’s dead,” I said. “He’s not coming back.”

“And the rest of the elite are vulnerable,” Trevor added. “Now that the skies are clear.”

“The sun,” Augustine nodded. “I had a feeling that was you. But if you’re expecting gratitude, you forget my nature.”

“Did the ash even reach this far?” Trevor asked.

“Only partially,” Augustine admitted. “We were in a kind of eternal twilight, gray skies on the fringes of a powerful kingdom. But it made us strong.”

“Your elite,” he continued, “are poorly trained, spoiled, and weak. Think about it, they’ve grown up under their ashen skies, comfortable, with no real threats or predators. They haven’t had to fight for survival, not in a long time. But we are used to the dark. If your kingdom falls apart, we can take your compounds. If they come to us, we will fight them, and win. And if they hole up in their citadel, draining their own stores dry… it doesn’t affect us in the slightest. Why then, should we get involved?”

I shrugged and leaned back in my seat, sipping my drink. I didn’t come here to beg for help. And Augustine was right, this wasn’t his fight. But he had said we were negotiating. I just had to wait for him to make his point.

“So here’s the thing that does scare me. Let’s say your revolution is successful. You kill all the vampires in your kingdom. How are your rebels to distinguish between us and King Richard’s elite? Even if we helped you, how do we know we aren’t putting ourselves in danger—fighting against the elite to save humans who also want us dead? To establish a human society which will grow and fester, eventually wanting what we have?”

“That won’t happen,” I said. “I can give assurances.”

“How?” he leered. I saw a flash of metal and realized one of his teeth was capped in gold, and studded with a diamond. “Your prince is now a prisoner. You’ve assembled a small group of rebels. Without our help, it’s unlikely you’ll be successful. And even with our help, I’m wondering what’s the point, what’s the purpose of any of it? Nature finds a way, the strongest will survive. Thinking we can outmaneuver destiny… it’s a fool’s errand.”

He held up a Queen of Hearts, then flipped it around his fingers. When it faced us again, it had changed to the King of Spades, brandishing a sword. He tossed it into the air, and when he caught it again, it had become a laughing Joker, wearing bells.

“Nice trick,” Trevor said.

“I’m glad you approve,” Augustine said, a glint in his eyes. But I wasn’t in the mood for games.

“So let us leave,” I said, standing up.

“You’re free to go, whenever you please. Though it’s a two-week walk on foot.”

“Then give us one of those hovercrafts,” Trevor said.

“Ah,” the elite said sadly, with a twinkle in his eyes. “Nothing here is free.”

“We’ll pay for it,” I sighed. “Damien will reward you handsomely.”

“If he’s alive, and if your revolution succeeds. More likely, I’ll never see it again.”

We were at an impasse, and I felt the tension build between us. He wasn’t exactly threatening us, but Trevor and I both knew what the vampire could do to us, if it came to a fight. We couldn’t force him to help us, and I felt like he was taunting us somehow. The extortion seemed almost relievingly simple, but I couldn’t place what he actually wanted from us. He fanned the cards out in a wide arc, before gathering them up again and slipping them into his pocket.

“This is just a brief, informal meeting,” Augustine said. The intense interest he’d shown me earlier had disappeared, and now he seemed almost bored with us. “A chance to catch up. But from where I’m sitting, I’m holding all the cards, and you’re holding none. Until you’ve figured out what you have to offer, we’ll have to table this discussion. In the meantime, you’re welcome here, as long as you follow our rules.”

“Which are?” Trevor asked.

“Very few, in fact.” The elite started walking away, towards the front lobby, so we joined him. He cut through a room with round tables, filled with people playing games with colored chips made of clay.

“Chance and fortune,” Augustine said, catching my eye. “Hope for more, the possibility of changed circumstances. The potential for things to get better. Not for everyone, everywhere, but for themselves. Humans are innately selfish. First, their own health and preservation, then those they care about. But if all their needs are met, they still won’t be happy. They can’t help wanting more. They say they want equality and fairness, which really means, they always want just a little bit more than what the next guy has. So here, we give them that. Many chances, many options, many choices. They can choose easy paths or difficult paths, depending on how much they’re willing to risk, and how much they stand to gain. The rules are simple: nothing can be taken by force. Not elixir—or as we call it, venom—and not blood. Other than that, there’s a lot of gray area to maneuver. If they lie or tell an untruth, they may be liable. If they were misleading but didn’t actually lie, that’s not manipulation, it’s showmanship.”

“And let me guess, you’re the judge who decides?”

“Vamps aren’t in charge. We didn’t crown a king to worship, and we don’t call ourselveselitelike some liberal college prick. Honestly, those fantasy larpers ruined the apocalypse. I’ve always been more of aMad Maxfan myself. I consider us a family, but here we call ourselves the teeth and the blood.”

He rapped his tattoed knuckles on a barred window, gesturing with his fingers, and the man inside the small booth handed him two stacks of chips on a plastic tray. He palmed them and gave one stack to each of us.




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