Free The Bonded by John Falin Page B

said. I read a book on Quantum Physics several years ago, explaining that after decades of study, the most brilliant minds on the planet are baffled that the quantum world does not operate under the same rules that govern our world. Subatomic particles teleport, communicate over universal distances, and electrons are strings that pop in and out of existence. I’m certainly a product of this age, but always leave room for the unexplainable.
    Combine that with our growing need to up the ante on individualism with piercings, implanted vampire teeth, colored contacts, and green hair. Why would anyone give vampires a second look? They blend in, fly under the radar, and if anyone has serious concerns… well, they get a chance to dance in a crowded street.
     
    * * *
     
    I hop in the shower, throw on some darker clothes this evening (in case I get sloppy again), and head out the bedroom door to the stairs. I push the door open and am greeted by one Mr. Cassius, sitting, legs crossed, on my brown leather recliner. Without hesitation I kindly say, “Good morn… evening.” This is going to take some getting used to. Having lived in the South for a while, I’m partial to southern manners. He doesn’t even attempt a smile to lessen the awkwardness of my greeting. I mentally shrug my shoulders and choose the sofa across from him as my seat.
    “I understand you fed well last night, Adriel.” I let my poker face slip for a moment in mild surprise. He knew my name and was aware of my little feeding problem. He savors the small victory. “You have learned much for one evening, but not nearly enough if you’re going to survive this war. Beginning immediately, you will train with our Weapons Master for the first three hours after sunset, and then you will continue your lessons on hunting with Persephone, or as you Americans say, Percy.” I fight a half grin off with all my might and he stares coldly. “I would have replaced her if she were not the best we have. After several days or weeks of this, I will summon you to my home and continue your historical education. There are things you will need to know… and things I need to learn from you.” He speaks the last stanza with emphatic threat.
    I ask with brevity, “Why don’t we just start the history lessons, now, while you’re here?”
    He thinks for a couple of seconds, places his palms on both knees, and slowly rises, clasping his hands behind his back, assuming the position of teacher. I guess he wants me to be his pupil. I consider my options and, fuck ‘em. I stand as well, to even the playing field. He snarls in distaste, but continues, “You have never been one of us and could not possibly be aware of our customs or culture. So, I will forgive your insolent behavior this once, Adriel, but you will give me the respect I demand or I will violently take it from you.” He seethes with acrimony as the pressure builds and I know this is not the time to test his resolve or his strength.
    “I understand,” I say with an ambivalent monotone, but I don’t sit down.
    He casually moves on as if that altercation never happened and begins his pace toward the window, looking at the other vamps that have congregated for the evening briefing. “They are suspicious after last night’s events and don’t trust you.” His head tilts back as if he’s nobility.
    I already have a dislike of this guy, but answer, “I don’t blame them. You heard what Quilici said. Honestly, I’m starting to suspect myself of something, too. What did he mean, Cassius?” I ask as a pupil asks a teacher, not as a king demands his court so that his ego is appeased and I may receive a more thorough reply.
    He strokes his chin in rehearsed manner. “I do not know. Quilici is old and very cunning, a worthy adversary. As I told the others, I presume he said what he did to divert our attention from his true purpose, which was to steal my sword. One of my informants warned me minutes before they broke our