“There,” Daniel said, pointing to one of the narrow side doors, just now swinging closed. It was then that the large oak doors covered in black goo splintered apart and a handful of distressed vampires spilled in, all fire and spit. Piscary turned his back on them and shook, not because he didn’t care, although he didn’t, but because he couldn’t handle the emotional outflow. Clearly knowing it, Rynn Cormel hastened to cut them off, bundling them back into the hall. Trisk was amazed they did as they were told, like children. But that’s what they are, in essence.
The hallway grew quiet, and Cormel returned, looking as if he didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t Piscary’s scion, but he had enough clout that the lesser members of Piscary’s house would listen. “Perhaps you should have given Ulbrine to the demon,” Rynn Cormel muttered, and Piscary turned. Seeing the master vampire’s questioning look, he added, “Someone has to be blamed for the silence being broken. If he’s in the ever-after, he can’t refute it.”
Colonel Wolfe stood, tugging his uniform down. “The silence isn’t broken,” he said, his gaze going to Daniel. “Not beyond repair.”
Orchid clattered her wings, not rising up from Daniel’s shoulder. “No one is touching Daniel,” she said, and Wolfe’s eyes narrowed.
Rynn Cormel rose from having helped Piscary into a chair. The slip of paper with Algaliarept’s name on it was in his hand, and Piscary tucked it in his suit coat pocket.
“Killing Daniel won’t stop the silence from breaking,” Cormel said, his smile soothing. “Humans will survive the plague in numbers too high to ignore, too low to not protect. As Dr. Cambri has observed, they’re realizing immunity runs in family lines. They will find out why soon enough. That we are not human.”
Professor Thole was shaking his head. “I don’t want to come out,” he said, taking a gulp from his glass. “We tried that once. It didn’t work. They all but destroyed us.”
Mrs. Ray came to the bar as well, nervously tucking her hair back in place. “Just as many humans were killed as you witches.”
Professor Thole scowled as he reached for a bottle to top his glass off with. “When your family is burned at the stake, we’ll talk.”
Rynn Cormel took the bottle out of Professor Thole’s hand and returned it to the shelf. “We should come out now, before we are forced out,” he persuaded in his thick Bronx accent. “It’s a singularly unique opportunity to gain humans’ trust as we help them, earn a debt of gratitude that will rub out their fears, both imagined and real.” He turned to Piscary. The vampire was still sitting across from Trisk, his frown puzzling, as it had been his idea to break the silence in the first place.
“Some humans may choose immortality to escape the plague,” Cormel added, and Piscary’s frown deepened. “A welcome relief for us seeing to the needs of the undead.”
Mrs. Ray waggled her finger as she perched on the barstool. “No, no, no,” the petite woman said as if she hadn’t been cowering behind the couch just minutes previous. “I see your intent, Piscary, and you won’t be allowed to increase your numbers. Adding human-based ghouls to your population is a short-term solution that will create a larger problem in the future. If humanity’s numbers are dropping, you will be expected to take a loss as well.”
Piscary grimaced, and Trisk felt a new danger rise. The population balance between witches, Weres, and vampires had been fairly stable for thousands of years, but every time it wobbled, there was a war until it equalized again.
“I agree with Mrs. Ray,” Wolfe said, staring mournfully at his empty shot glass before pushing it to the center of the bar. “Piscary, I understand your predicament, and if there was something we could do, we would. No one wants your people to suffer, but the health of your old ones won’t be given priority over the well-being of the rest of Inderland.”
Gaze distant, Piscary shook his head. “There will be no population bubble. Only those born as vampires make the leap to the undead with no help. The subclass of human ghouls created to get us through this crisis will die when their masters fail to elevate them. Even so, I worry that this is only a slow decline, the beginning of a new era of madness.”
Professor Thole was rummaging for more alcohol. “There are too many maybes,” he said, affronted when Rynn Cormel took the new bottle out of his hand and put it back on the shelf. “If we come out, the laws preventing human takes will become human laws, and we all know how humans love their litigation.”
Piscary idly motioned that Thole could have the bottle, and Cormel smacked it back into the professor’s hand. “What do you suggest?” Piscary asked. “We’re between a rock and a cliff.”
“I have an idea,” Trisk said, and Wolfe started.
“The elf speaks,” he said dryly, the crack of the bottle’s seal loud as it broke.
“And you should listen,” Orchid said, making Rynn Cormel hide a smile.
Seeing Piscary gesture for her to continue, Trisk tugged her tired T-shirt straight. “Seems to me all you need is a drug that increases metabolism and blood production so one living vampire, a scion, could supply their newly undead master with enough blood so they don’t have to go into a new, possibly dangerous blood pool.”