Chapter 9: Generations
My Boy Jack: Prequel to The Chimera Cycle
Table of Contents
The Below stretched beneath Sunstead House. A maze of catacombs, connecting tunnels and chambers, some large, a few vast and cathedral-like. Created over many centuries, it began beneath the foundations of a settlement that became a Roman city, Londinium. Later, that city became London, England.
Adler stepped into one such chamber. Rich tapestries and drapes that fooled the eye into imagining hidden windows hung from the walls. A fire burned in a low hearth, smoke drawn high into the chimneys of the house above. Statues crouched in alcoves with stone robes and sightless eyes. In the centre rested a long couch; beside it, a fine walnut table carried a polished oak box.
An altar-like counter sat at the head of the room, draped in a clean linen cloth, next to his travel chest. He unlatched the lid. Gold flashed within the folds of velvet—a handcrafted syringe—a thick glass body blown by a skilled artisan. The gilt metalwork caught the firelight with a steady glow. Unstained and untarnished.
Seneschal Elias Henryk Sartain crossed the threshold in a sweep of rich fabric, a gesture to announce his hitherto silent presence.
Adler bowed. “Milord.”
“Doctor Adler, it’s always good to see you.” Elias gestured to Susanna, who followed. “Lady Fleetwood joins us tonight for the first time. Susanna is curious by nature, which I enjoy, and she will no doubt have questions for you.”
Susanna curtsied, demure and confident, and yet Adler saw a finger tremble.
The doctor bobbed a bow once more. “Milady, I am your servant.”
Elias parted his cloak and revealed a golden vessel. Wax sealed the flask’s lid; it shone in the candlelight.
He passed the precious vase to Adler. The metal grew warm from the strange reaction going on within.
“Lady Susanna, men have different bloods.” Adler used a knife to crack the seal. “There is one kind liked most among the Revered Lords—sweet blood.”
Susanna smiled, as much as to say I know.
“Granted, here—everyday knowledge. However, my peers in the Wild World do not understand it.” With great care, he set the lid aside. “Introducing the wrong kind of blood into the veins of a man is like poison. However, the matching essence can heal—and sweet blood is always the right sort.”
Susanna stepped closer. “Doctor, moments after the Cup Bearer filled it with hers, Lord Elias performed a solemn ritual.” Her voice sounded heavy with awe and excitement.
For Adler, old news; for her, a secret revealed.
Elias took Susanna’s hand, a gentle, almost tender act. “This I did, just before the dawn, adding measures of indefatigable blood—gifted by the Nine Princes and Three Kings of the Dominion, some twenty years ago. Today, Quintessence of the Twelve Houses quickened this human blood, changing its nature.”
Susanna’s eyes widened. “Quick blood can make mortal man into a Revered Lord.”
“Or in this case,” Adler said, “change a babe into something more.”
As Adler dipped the golden needle into deep, ruddy blood, Susanna crept closer. “Doctor, how is this given to the unborn?”
He drew back the plunger, filling the barrel. “In short, I shall place the combined Quintessence of the Masters into the waters that surround the growing child.”
Susanna frowned. “Won’t the quick blood make the mother ill?”
“Yes, a little; a fever, but in a few days, a week or so at most, it should pass.”
Elias took Susanna’s hand. “The women of the Dominion are stronger than those of the Wild World; the quickening effect of our blood does not injure them. Our children are more tolerant of venom.”
Adler glanced up at Elias. “As they say in the east, there is a yin to the yang.”
The vampire stared at him. Adler lowered his eyes—the secret of Female Quintessence remained a forbidden topic in the Dominion.
Susanna tilted her head. “Doctor, I am confused. At best, half the men who take quick blood in the Dumugere rite—die, while those who do not become vampires. Why is it not the same for the experiment’s children? I am told almost all those born at Blackthorn House, who live, are human?”
The thought of an infant fledgling vampire, feral and brutal—clawing out of its mother’s belly—made Adler shudder. “Not quite so, milady. Over the years, some possessed promising qualities. The oldest are now grown men. As for why this is?” Adler stroked his beard. “I believe quick blood’s power is different in the womb because the unformed child is still growing. This quirk of nature led me to conclude that offspring with combined strengths is possible.”
Susanna’s lips curved. “As this spring’s birth proved?”
“Yes, indeed, the twenty-third generation is distinct, unique… like no babes before them. True chimeras, having qualities of both human and vampire natures.”
Elias interrupted, touching Susanna’s arm. “It is time.”
She clapped her hands—a loud crack. Two women answered her summons. One young, the other older. Doctor Adler greeted the latter. “Midwife Pritchard. It is good to see you again.”
She dipped a quick, short curtsy, taking the younger woman’s hand. “Sir, this be Lady Eleanor Whitby.” Pritchard’s Welsh lilt sounded soft and distinctive.
The first of the eleven ladies from the parlour curtsied to him. Adler would treat each of them tonight. Whitby fixed her gaze on Elias. His lips curved; to Adler, the gesture looked mechanical, but it softened his features as he beckoned to her.
“Lady Whitby carries a male child, Doctor,” Elias said. “I tasted her again today, a strong spark, nine weeks, I would say, from conception.”
She curtsied. “Doctor.”
Goody Pritchard gestured to the younger woman to lie on the couch. “This way, bach, don’t you worry now.”
“May I beg your help, Lady Susanna?” Adler pointed. “Please open the box on the side table.”
She opened the lid and gazed inside. “Cup Bearer’s compacts?” Susanna’s brows narrowed. “Salves of beeswax, a little olive oil, honey, and vampire venom.” She glanced at Adler. “I think I understand.”
Whitby looked concerned. “Doctor, am I to be bled?”
Adler shook his head. “There is no need to mimic the natural act of a vampire’s bite.”
Susanna picked up a golden, clamshell-like vessel and passed the device to Adler. He opened the roundel’s clam. Each half held a different ointment and a soft leather pad—separated by a flat gilded plate. “Both tinctures dull pain. The before salve numbs, but it also makes the blood flow, so we will not use it. Only the second, as this dries the wound.” He withdrew an integral, razor-edged blade from a slot in the case. “Lady Whitby, the Wild World puts great faith in a sharp fleam’s cut, believing it medicinal. However, this is not the Dominion’s way.” He replaced the tiny knife, clicking it into place. “Our Masters understand that bleeding taxes the body, and does not help it.”
Lady Whitby nodded. “The honour of the Cup Bearer’s gift. We only open a vein in order to feed a travelling Lord who is without a close companion. Never for sickness.”
Susanna rested a hand on Whitby’s shoulder. “It will, I’m sure, take away any discomfort from the procedure.”
Adler beckoned to the midwife. “Please, Goody Pritchard, Lady Whitby’s petticoats, if you would.”
Pritchard hoisted the lady’s voluminous skirts and set Whitby’s knees apart, exposing her nakedness.
Adler placed the compact in Whitby’s hand. “Lady Eleanor, please apply the balm to your cunny,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone, “do so liberally. It will aid the work, and afterwards—remain still. It is important, while your womb settles.”
Whitby used the applicator and spread the tincture. Almost at once, she relaxed; tension washed from her face. Euphoria.
Susanna monitored the young woman’s pulse. “Venom, applied, even to the skin, in generous measures, provokes a state of bliss. It also stops putrefaction—corrupted blood is bad for both the close companion and the Master.”
Adler now covered the cannula in the same balm. “Indeed, milady. I have determined that the secretions preserved in the after salve are of particular importance. They calm the womb, ensuring it holds fast, and prevent any unwanted discharge.”
“Preserving the pregnancy?”
“Yes—that is the reason.” Adler’s posture stiffened. “The priapiscus, please, Goody Pritchard.”
She reached into a pocket and withdrew a gilded brass tulip-shaped instrument from her pinny—a midwifery tool known to the ancient world. A design recorded in Roman medical texts. Pritchard warmed it between her hands, then applied the remaining after-salve.
Pritchard patted Lady Eleanor on the thigh and, with practised care, inserted the salved metal, turning the screw and opening the petals. She stepped back. “The birth canal is open, Doctor.”
Adler eased the cannula through the relaxed cervix. Eleanor gave a soft gasp, riding on a wave of venom-induced bliss. Adler pressed the plunger down, and the quick blood, made from the Twelve rulers of the Dominion, entered Eleanor’s womb.
“Well done, Doctor,” Elias said. “Ten more await, and the night is young.”