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Come the Night

By Angelique Armae

Prologue

Palazzo Vecchio, outside Rome 476 A.D.

Romulus scowled. “The empire will never regain its strength. Rome as I once knew it is gone for

good."

Octavia heard the pain in her father's voice, the mental anguish of being torn between the Vampyre and

the man. She knew he spoke of himself in those words. She sensed it in her soul.

"Perhaps this is not a good time.” She had the sudden need to run, the sudden need to flee her father's

palace. Octavia knew the danger of pressing the Vampyre, of pushing such madness to the edge. “I can

come back.” She hadn't thought summoning his dark side would be so frightening. “I—I can come back

when it's more ... convenient."

He didn't answer her.

She stared at him and mused at the façade. On the outside, Romulus looked every bit the dignified

Roman. He wore a gold seal ring on his right hand and the prized toga draped well about his body. What

would Caesar have thought had he ever learned the truth about her father, about the beast that dwelled

within him? Now she saw Romulus in an entirely different light. His eyes seemed so dark. So tired. She

couldn't remember ever seeing him in such a greatly disheartened state.

He sat in a gilded chair, looking much like an aging king seated on an ancient throne. His handsome,

ageless face seemed suddenly marred by the winds of time and his restless soul haunted by the

wickedness of his tormented existence.

Octavia shook the dark thoughts from her head. Perhaps it was just the atmosphere of the chamber with

its cold, gray marble lit by far too few candles. She sensed no peace here, no warmth. This must be how

he always felt. How the man inside the Vampyre felt. The feeling disturbed her more than ever. Wishing

away her father's pain, she closed her eyes. But it didn't work. She felt him stronger than before. The

Vampyre that ruled Romulus's soul now dwelled nearer to her own.

Octavia felt her father's inner turmoil by merely being in his presence. She sensed in her heart that he

wanted her to come closer, to embrace him. The power of the Vampyre reached out to her, calling from

beyond the ethereal plane and stirring her to the core. But she knew better. Fate had been cruel to him. It

kept Romulus away from his children. The most any of them could hope for were a few brief moments

like these—moments stolen in a darkened chamber of his marble palace.

She summoned up the courage to speak. “I'm not here to talk about Rome, Father. I came because I

bring you your grandson. His name is Lazarus."

Octavia held the infant in her outstretched arms. The clanging of gold bracelets sliding down her arm

echoed about the room as she propped the baby up for her father's viewing. She prayed to God he

would accept the child.

Romulus leaned forward and stared at his grandson. He looked uncomfortable being presented with such

a situation and took no care to hide such feelings. A stern frown darkened his face even further. He

raised an eyebrow and then quickly turned away.

"So, you have finally given me an heir. Hmm.” He grunted and dismissed the child with a wave of his

hand. “Why did you bring him here?"

"Because he needs you,” Octavia said. “Lazarus is not a full-blooded mortal. His father was an angel

named Lexliel, a Grigori who fell from grace while living in Eden, as did most of the Grigori, the angels of

the tenth choir. But my husband repented, sparing our son's soul."

She fidgeted with the folds of the violet palla draping her stola. Her father had been upset when she ran

off with a man he had never met. But none of that mattered now. Her husband was dead and Lazarus

was all that remained important to her.

"If Lexliel were still alive I would not be here.” She sighed. The two men she loved most had both left her

in times of need—her husband bound by Hell, her father cursed by Hell. “I have nowhere else to turn."

Romulus rose from his throne. With slow, cautious steps, he approached her and Lazarus, came as close

to them as the Vampyre inside allowed him.

"They say only demons, the damned souls of the Nephilim, come from the union of a mortal and an

angel."

"I don't believe that,” said Octavia. “Look at him.” She gently unwrapped the folds of silk that cradled

her son. The tiny infant was full of life and far from being anything like that which legend had prophesied.

Romulus took the child from Octavia's arms and held him close to his heart. “He is a strong being. I can

see it in his eyes. What do you wish me to do with him?"

"Bring him over."

"But why?"

"If legend is true, he will die. If it is false, the Nephilim who know the true nature of his heritage will kill

him. Besides...” Octavia paused. She knew her father wouldn't resist the blood of a newborn child. “You

already hold him too close to your heart. You've crossed the line of fate and, having done so, you will not

release my son until your hunger is fed."

Romulus froze. “I hadn't realized I'd taken Lazarus from you,” he said. “Forgive me.” He stared at the

child and became lost in his smile. “He reminds me of you as an infant. You had the same eyes, the same

mouth. You made me forget about the troubles of Rome. After long hours of debating with Caesar, I'd

return home to wake you and your siblings, and hold you. Do you remember my embrace, Octavia?"

"Of course,” she said. “In your arms I was secure, safe from the demons a little child imagines exist in the

world. Little did I know..."

He sighed. “The Vampyre inside rules me. It's the beast that forced me to leave. I had no choice. I

couldn't allow you to become what I had been for centuries."

"Centuries? But you were my father. How could you have been like this for hundreds of years and still

given life to me?"

"My demons were exorcized by the Nazarene. He rehabilitated my soul.” Romulus carried his grandson

to a table in the corner of his chamber. He lit a group of candles, illuminating a large gold cross previously

hidden by the darkness. “His Spirit has been my constant companion. He graced me with the gift of

communing with angels and nourished my body with the fruits and berry wines from the gardens of

Paradise. Because of the Nazarene, I was once again able to welcome the morning sun and wrap my

soul in its warmth. But nothing lasts forever.” Romulus paused. He turned away from the cross.

"No one could condemn the soul who saved me from my hell, yet they crucified Him just the same. In the

days that followed, I slowly returned to my old ways. And in that chaos I have remained for centuries.

Everyday is a battle against the Vampyre, against its gnawing hunger."

Octavia reached for her father. She placed her hand on his shoulder and cared nothing for her own

safety, nothing for the threat that now lingered in the near shadows. Being physically close to Romulus put

her life in danger. The Vampyre inside her father would judge her the same as it would any other

vulnerable soul—as a source of warm blood to feed its cravings.

"How did you escape such torment?"

He turned away, a sigh echoing in the darkness. “I fell in love with your mother. She was a Tracker, a

mortal who hunted the Vampyre. There are many families of Trackers, almost as many as there are

Vampyric Tribes. Your mother came from a small yet powerful clan. She became my link to the outside

world and offered me help. Had I had no conscience, she would've hunted me. I suppose I was fortunate

she didn't have a large family, less Trackers to convince to accept me."

The news surprised Octavia; she hadn't known her mother's people hunted night creatures. They were

Celts, not Romans, and rarely visited.

Romulus continued. “Years before I met your mother, I was given an amulet that held the blood of the

Nazarene, the one they called Christ. This man had a great following and after his death, one of his

apostles gave me the amulet in hopes of curing my Vampyric affliction. I befriended the Nazarene, and in

turn, I was given a chance at redemption. The powers contained within gave me back my mortality long

enough to father a family. But it was not easy. I never stopped wrestling with my hunger for blood.

Eventually, it conquered me and almost sent me back to my old ways. I came very close to breaking my

vow made with the Nazarene. That was the day I left you and confined myself to this room. Had I

feasted again, my mortal family and my entire Vampyric Tribe would have been put in danger. My near

weakness cost me the right to keep the Amulet of Christ. Angels descended to Earth and removed the

relic from my care, giving it to the Trackers. The powers granted me to live in the sun and to retain my

immortality remained. But I no longer could keep the amulet safe from the Dark Breed, a vile species of

vampyres. If ever they were to possess it, the world would be doomed.” Romulus looked away from

Octavia. He focused his gaze on his grandson lying on the table in front of the cross. “Is this the life you

want for your son? A life of constant torment?"

"Like you, he has no choice."

"Then so be it.” He removed the remaining silk from the child's body. “But I will bring him across only if

you agree to certain conditions."

"I'll do whatever is asked of me,” said Octavia. “Anything to save my son."

"You must allow me to bring you across as well for I will teach you how to rehabilitate the child's soul so

his torment will not be as severe as my own. And when the deed is done, you must promise to take me

outside so I may breathe my last breath."

Octavia gasped. She hadn't come here to kill her father. “But why?"

"I've lived long enough,” said Romulus. “It's time for Lazarus to rule my empire. From this day forward,

he will be known as the patriarch of my Tribe.” Romulus removed his seal ring and placed it on a silk

cord. He draped the dangling ring over Lazarus's neck.

"Your son shall age until he is thirty-and-five as would any other soul. After that, youth will be his eternal

companion.

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