Interview with a Vampire - Initiation

It is utterly and absolutely unfair that Malbec has to come debase himself before Lady Calla. The two had crossed paths before, in vampire circles– It’s not like he’s some newly finished fledgeling, still cutting his teeth on the necks of innocents. Malbec has connections, a way of life– he has standards, and he’s not going to break them just because vampires are public knowledge now. 

But he’s sure Calla knows where he lives– if she doesn’t, those pesky vampire hunters and Sorrento do, and he’s sure one of them would be more than happy to narc on the location of the court’s holdout. So off he goes into the night, by himself. He left Merlot and Rosé behind despite their protests– they can be initiated later. Malbec doesn’t want them to see him have to kneel before this Vampire Lord.

Calla’s Sanctum is impossible to miss, if you know what you’re looking for. The high arches, dramatic stained glass windows, and gaudy bell tower makes it plenty clear that the lady of the house values herself all too highly. She’s hidden it away in a residential district, where one could just as easily assume it belonged to an eccentric highroller or gothic hermit than to the vampire who has taken control over the bloodsucking population in Burrowgatory.

Malbec has been here before– always invited to Calla’s Masquerade balls, surely just to poke fun at his mask. Malbec has always been sure he’d have the last laugh against her, but he’s no longer so sure… Sighing, he approaches the door, knocking on it roughly with his knuckles. “Let’s be over with this…” he mumbles to himself, before the door opens.

It’s not the Lady herself, of course, but some uninteresting fledgling who welcomes him in, causing Malbec to roll his eye. “Yes– well, I’m a very busy man, so if you could bring me to Lady Calla?” He replies dryly, letting her lead him back through the halls. His eyes trace across the tapestries that adorn the walls as they walk– scenes of vampiric revelry, vampiric sorrow, vampiric strength playing out as they walk along the hall. It’s rather ostentatious, isn’t it, to only portray the good your kind has done? He certainly doesn’t see Lagosi’s visage on any of them. Just Calla’s phantasmal form, smiling in all white, staring as though she can see right through him.

Malbec picks up the pace, his cane clinking with effort against the old wooden floors as he passes the spawn. He doesn’t want to stay here any longer than he needs to. A pair of doors far too large to ever be practical stand at the end of the hallway, another fledgling servant on either side of them. Malbec can barely restrain himself from sneering at them… idiots who give up their lives just as thanks for the kiss of Calla’s fangs… he can’t respect anyone who stays like that longer than they need to.

“Well– announce me, then. So the Lady of the Manor can Initiate me into… whatever this is.” He says with a dismissive wave of his hand. The irritation towards him is obvious in the look the two vampires exchange, but Malbec doesn’t care. They can gossip about him all he wants once he gets out of here– he won’t be back, at least not until the next gala. Even then, Calla would have to send him a fine invitation, after making him embarrass himself like this…

Malbec adjusts his mask and smooths back a lock of hair as the doors open, his name announced in a booming voice. That’s more like it. Malbec walks down the carpeted hall, past the elegant columns and banners that decorate Calla’s most private sanctum. This is less tacky than the ones in the hallway, at least…

Calla steps forward, as light on her feet as if she were made of fog, and Malbec settles into a smile. The fledglings can complain all they want, but he musn’t upset the lady of the house.

“Malbec Rouge…” She starts as she approaches him. That condescending smile that she wears so well spreads across her face, her amusement obvious. Malbec tightens his grip on his cane. “I’m so glad you could finally join us, to come get initiated… I know you must be so busy after everything that’s happened this month…” She says, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. Malbec steps towards her again, closing the distance between them. He knows he should kneel, but his legs refuse. The last thing he wants is to give her the satisfaction of seeing him below her.

“Lady Calla… forgive my tardiness.” Another step forward, another soft thump of the cane against the carpet. “It’s… very impressive, what you’ve managed to pull together since Lagosi power grab… I must commend you.” Malbec’s words are as sweet as honey, but he can barely stop his brow from furrowing. “I thank you for the chance… to join your court.” A pregnant pause follows his strained praise, followed by a twittering giggle. Calla’s laugh may not be loud, but it echos through the arched ceilings, as though the building itself is laughing at Malbec’s misfortune.

“Such high praise, coming from you, Mr. Rouge,” she says, covering her mouth with a handkerchief and giving him a sly look. “As busy as I’m sure you are, I’m afraid I have many other matters to attend to myself… shall we?” She says, and arched eyebrow punctuating her point. She feels no need to play games with him, he can tell, and his fang digs into the inside of his lip.

“Of course– where are my manners?” He asks rhetorically, taking a deep breath as he sinks down onto his knee. The muscles in his right leg protest as he sinks to the floor– one knee out in front of him, and the other tucked beneath. He steadies himself with his cane head, and places his other hand over his still heart. The words to this pledge were sent with his summons, and they dance off his tongue even as he curses them in his head. “I pledge myself to Lady Calla, and court of vampires. Never will I bare my fangs against those who follow the oath, and never will I spill blood without the council’s approval. I give all of myself– my life and my death– to the sake of vampirekind.”

The words feel like acid coming out of his mouth, but Malbec gets through them all regardless, his eye focused on Lady Calla as she looks down at him. She smiles, and offers up her wrist, a perfect porcelain surface despite how many fangs have undoubtedly been sunk into it since Calla made this decree. Malbec hates sloppy seconds… but he supposes this is the least terrible part of the whole ordeal.

He takes her wrist in his hand, glancing up at her before he suddenly sinks his teeth in. This, at least, is a good way to temper his frustration, although her blood has nothing on Sangria’s. He takes but a shallow drink, knowing that this is just ceremony… and then pulls back to look up at her with a tired eye. “I suppose I’m yours now, Lady Calla,” he says, heaving a sigh before he steadies himself and pulls back to his feet. She just smiles at him, bringing a handkerchief to her wrist to dab at the bite wounds.

“I suppose you are, Malbec Rouge,” she says, watching him struggle to stand up. “I’m sure you have much else to attend to, as do I… but I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.” An invitation? A veiled threat? Malbec isn’t sure.

“Of course, my lady,” he replies– Malbec has no intention of getting on her bad side after going through all that. “I’ll send my associates to you soon, and then we can all start to figure out how to get on with our new lives in the public eye.”

It’s still a strange feeling, Malbec thinks to himself, to know that anyone he passes on the street may know about vampires– or even have temporarily been a spawn themselves. It gives him an idea, as he walks back down to his car. What reporter wouldn’t want an exclusive interview with a vampire, after all this?