The Seven Sinners Book 2

EVENING 2,560

SOLACE

The priestesses were congregating for their daily prayer to Artemis. All of them grabbed their white carpets and knelt down, their hands flat on their thighs as they surrounded the statue of their Goddess.

There were one hundred and thirty of them, all perfectly sculpted into divine women. They wore the same white gowns. The gowns were one-shouldered and made of delicate fabric that emphasized their feminine curves.

Every woman here was supposed to represent a standard of beauty. They were the continuation of the vampyre race. They nourished the Council. They would birth the next children.

Every woman came from elite lineage. Every woman had etiquette training. Every woman walked, talked, and acted in what was perceived to be the ideal way.

They all had their hair up in a neat chignon with a singular piece of jewelry on their wrist.

Some women were far curvier than others. Some had no breasts. Some were women of color. Some had dark hair. Some had red hair. They all were physically different, unified by their daily lives and schedule.

The girls breathed in deeply, hearing the familiar chime of the call to prayer. In Latin, their domina began their prayer to Artemis. The women repeated their responses.

Solace obeyed the laws and rules that were imposed on her. She wouldn’t allow herself to mourn the loss of her identity; she wasn’t herself.

She was everyone as everyone was her. She wasn’t allowed to think by herself or to have selfish feelings.

She could feel herself being called back to her quarters, which was unfamiliar. Only a few could call upon her through an unseen, but greatly felt, connection. A beckon—a string that, when tugged, was hard to resist.

Prayer was never interrupted unless it was of utmost significance. She had an internal debate for a moment about how to proceed. Ignore the call and keep praying? Or answer her beckoning and excuse herself?

She decided that whoever was calling her was far superior to her. So she stood, folded her prayer mat, and quietly excused herself.

She lived in what she supposed was a dormitory. She had her own quarters, as did every other female, but they all lived in the same building.

As she entered her room, she laid her mat on her bed and sat down, her hands lying on her thighs, and her head bowed down.

She could feel the presence of someone but out of respect she didn’t look up.

The figure that appeared before her was a woman. She wore a long gown, similar to herself, but it was far more sophisticated.

“Priestess Solace, look up.”

She obeyed and tried to hide her shock. She had only ever seen this figure on statues or portraits, never in person.

She wanted to present herself with the utmost respect and dignity, but she was never quite taught how to do so. She stayed quiet, knowing that she could only speak when spoken to.

“Do you know who I am, child?”

Solace nodded.

“You are free to speak.”

“Yes,” Solace whispered.

“Speak my name.”

“Artemis.”

Artemis simply nodded, with a fond smile gracing her beautiful face. Her hair was elegantly folded into an updo with strands of dark curls framing her face. At her side was her bow, and on her back were her arrows.

“You perform the Coupling ceremony with Councilman Zanthus.”

Solace nodded. “Yes, though he rarely calls to feed upon me.”

Artemis smiled sadly with a nod. “Yes. I know. Do you know why?”

“He hardly speaks to me. There are rumors as to what’s happened to him.”

“And what are those rumors?”

Solace shook her head as if it would erase the sad images in her head. “His beloved died seven years ago. I do not know if it is true. I can’t imagine how it could be.”

“Why is that, child?”

“Because beloveds cannot survive after the death of the other. They must feed from each other. If one dies, the other dies as well. Perhaps through heartbreak, but ultimately, they all die from hunger.”

“Zanthus is a very strong vampyre,” the Goddess responded. “But he survives not solely by himself, I must admit.”

“What?” Solace’s heart jumped in her chest. That was so disrespectful of her. “I apologize.”

“It is all right.” Artemis waved away her apologies. “It would be a shock to anyone. Camila, the beloved of Zanthus, died many years ago. That rumor is true.”

“But…he drinks from me…he feeds…”

“Yes, because of both his will and mine. He is far too important to our species to allow him to succumb to the heartache.

“However, even as he lives, he still dies every day. Every day he withers away. Every day he walks a little closer to death and a little further from his duty.”

Solace remained silent as Artemis continued. The Goddess trailed off with a sorrow-filled sigh. She went to the priestess, grabbing her hands. “I request a favor of you.”

***

Solace was terrified. No, perhaps that wasn’t the word. She was willing to fulfill her duty to Artemis, yet the thought of speaking to Zanthus about this was…unnerving.

She knew he wouldn’t react kindly. She knew, as Artemis had warned, he wouldn’t be happy. He’d reject her.

That was all right. Her duty was to tell him. She gently folded her hands over her gown as she stood at their front door. She had to be brave, but she could hardly move her hand. It was like she was stuck, frozen by fear.

She didn’t have to knock, as the door swung open revealing a brother.

“Jesus Christ, can you stop feeling so nervous. We don’t bite…hard. You’re giving me a headache.”

“Apologies, Brother Quillian.”

“What is worrying you so much? Zanthus is not here right now.”

“I have brought information that he needs to hear.”

He left the door open as he went back into the living room. “Well, are you gonna come in and play Mario Kart?”

Mario Kart? What was that? She walked in hesitantly, closing the door behind her. She went to Brother Quillian and watched as he eagerly glanced at the large TV.

It looked like a road on the screen, but she still wasn’t sure what it was. She stood to the side, looking at the ground. She was trained to do so.

Soon, another brother came in, though he didn’t say much. He came in through the front door and immediately went upstairs. He stopped for a brief moment on the steps, looking at Solace. She bristled under his hard gaze.

“Look up.”

She obeyed. She gasped, seeing his scar slash across his features. Though, even with the abnormality, she couldn’t help but notice the beauty of his features. If anything, the scar added character.

However, even though he didn’t harm her, he still terrified her.

“I scare you.”

“Yes, Brother Caine.”

Caine simply looked away and continued upstairs. She had a sudden urge to follow him, but she fought against it.

She wasn’t his priestess and even if she were, it would still be disrespectful to question him. But somehow…something inside her…wavered.

“What is it you have to tell Zanthus?”

She glanced at Quillian. “I am not sure I may tell you.”

***

About an hour later, the brothers who had been gone returned. Solace did not waver in her stance by the wall. She did not look up unless she was spoken to.

Zanthus was the last to walk in and upon doing so, he stopped and looked at her.

“I did not call upon you.”

He turned to walk away, and she stepped forward.

“I have come to give you a message.”

“Tell me,” he responded. He didn’t care who had to tell him what. It was annoying to him. He just wanted to go to his room and drink.

She paled. “I am not sure you would like your brothers to hear what I have to say.”

“It doesn’t matter. Speak.”

The house must have heard the commotion because those who had left returned, watching the scene.

She faltered under their gazes. “I…” she stopped, unsure of herself. “Your beloved, Camila…she’s happy.”

Zanthus seethed at hearing her name. “Do not speak of her. You have no right.”

“No,” she agreed. “Artemis—”

Zanthus barked out a sardonic laugh. “Artemis hasn’t appeared on Earth in centuries.”

As Zanthus turned to leave again, she felt her time to tell him fading, so she rushed out what had been told to her. “Artemis told me that you have another beloved!”

She took a breath as the room filled with something unrecognizable to her. She continued, forcing herself not to be afraid. “Artemis cannot bring back your Camila, but she can grant you a second mate—”

“I do not want a second beloved. Tell Artemis she shouldn’t have taken away my Camila if she wanted favors.” He left the living room, venturing somewhere she wouldn’t follow.

She walked to Demedicus who was unusually quiet. From inside her gown, she took out a small envelope and handed it to him.

“Inside is her name and photo. You must understand this beloved is designed to satisfy the man Zanthus is today. This woman was birthed to be his beloved.

“Zanthus needs her help, but she needs his also. Please, try to get him to understand because if he does not, neither of them will survive.”

As Solace went to leave, she turned one last time toward everyone. “I will remove myself as his vein. I will give him another priestess to feed from. He needs to feed.”

THE COUNCIL

Once Solace left them, the other brothers remained silent, taking in the information she’d offered. They didn’t know what to feel.

Angry at Artemis, angry at Zanthus, confused, happy, nervous? It was clear from the look of the brothers that certain members had one opinion while some differed.

“Open it,” Quillian said.

“No,” Athanasius disagreed.

“He has another beloved, Athan—”

“A beloved he doesn’t want nor asked for,” Athan responded.

“You heard what Solace said. If we don’t, that girl’s life could also be at risk.”

“How do we even know she speaks truth?” Athan shook his head. “No, we can never know unless Artemis herself comes to us. And she hasn’t. Why would she send Solace in her stead?”

“You honestly think that woman would lie about something like this? That she would fabricate this story? She could barely speak without shaking.”

“She is lying—”

“No, she is not,” Quillian argued. “I felt it. I felt the truth.”

“Sometimes you’re wrong.”

Quillian moved across the room to his brother. “Are you doubting my abilities, brother?”

“If you are wrong and we push this, we could lose Zanthus. Forever,” Athan responded heavily.

“Enough,” Demedicus announced. “This isn’t our choice. I will speak to Zanthus and formulate a course of action from here.”

His eyes roamed to Lycidas who had been quiet throughout this. He had found his beloved, Adrasteia, a few months ago. “What do you think?”

“The thought of having a beloved other than Adrasteia is nauseating. I know that if I were him, I would have reacted the same.” Lycidas shook his head, running a hand over his face.

“That being said, if there is a chance that Zanthus could be happy or at least better than he is now, we must accept it.

“And this woman, if she is in danger…we have a responsibility to her too. We have lost too many from nonaction.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Demedicus, you’re our leader,” Lycidas responded. “You are the smartest here. The oldest. You have the most experience. Do you know any information about second beloveds?”

“They have never existed. Not to my knowledge. I do know that Artemis is omniscient. If Artemis did explain this to Solace…”

“…she wasn’t lying,” Quillian reaffirmed, annoyed.

“Then this woman is his second mate.” Demedicus played with the envelope in his hands.

“I think we should give this to Adrasteia. She may look. She can find her. She can see if this woman truly needs help. But for right now, I’m going to talk to Zanthus.”