Chapter Text
I cleared my throat and looked into the footlights. Beyond, I could see the pale smudges of vampire faces. Shuffling my notes, I looked out into the darkness of the Dallas auditorium and began.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming this evening and taking the time to hear what we have to say. I am Magdalena Kennick. As I am sure many of you will have noted, I am not vampire. If you were turned in Europe or have attained a certain vintage -"
I thought I heard a snicker and I was heartened.
"-or, more specifically, if you were turned before the Second Council in 1947, you may recognize my name as one of the Five Families. For those of you who don't know who we are, the Five Families are the Kennicks of the Irish Isles, the Ardelean clan of Romania, the Romarros of the Peninsulae, the Jägers and the van Helsaig of the central lands."
I took a breath. I had a feeling I was preaching to the converted, but the Irish vampires had told me that many of the young Americans had no idea who we, the Five Families, were. They'd never had to dodge our stakes or silver bullets. They only knew us from TV shows and blockbuster films - or, rather, knew a far sexier and more interesting version of what we were.
I continued:
"Originally these families, and I'm sorry to say mine included, were known to vampires as ruthless hunters and killers who staked hundreds of vampires under orders from the Catholic Church. However, by the time the Great Council was called in London in 1667, a truce had been called between the Five and the vampire authorities. In exchange for protection, the Five Families became vampire allies. They no longer focused on large-scale vampire killings, but rather on selective culling, based on rulings passed by the Great Council. Initially they started by reducing vampire populations in regions where numbers had risen dramatically, often in connection with famine, disease or revolution. In time, however, the vampire authorities sought to control their own, but many members of the Five Families stayed on as advisors or arbitrators. After the Second Council, we largely took a step back and nowadays our families nowadays mostly work behind the scenes for the vampire duchies across Europe."
I paused for breath and looked out blindly. I could not tell whether they were listening or had simply gone into vampire stand-by mode. The silence told me nothing.
I drew breath, one of the few beings in the hall needing to do so, and continued, "I understand that a term like 'the Five Families' means little to many of you in this wonderful country. For some of you, the Five Families might be a throwback to a less pleasant part of your personal history. In fact, I'm sure a number of you came here specifically to get away from us."
There were no laughs. I had held this speech a dozen times and there was never even a chuckle. I sighed inwardly and lowered my voice to become more serious.
"We are aware that our being here - the Council of the Empire of Europe and Northern Africa, along with representatives of the Five Families - might be construed as interference in American vampire affairs. Please be sure assured that this is far, far from the case. We are here because we believe that the Vampire Charter is something that vampires everywhere, all over the world, in every territory, kingdom or empire must agree to. Its purpose is not to restrict the power of individual rulers, but to ensure that all vampires have the same rights to the dignity of person as humans do. Humans have the UN Charter of Human Rights. It is time there was a universal Charter of Vampire Rights."
When I had first practised my speech in front of a mirror, I had paused for the rousing applause that I thought would come.
None ever came.
The reactions ranged from awkward chair-shuffling to the fake clearing of the throat that some vampires were still wont to do out of habit, even if they physically had no need.
I bit my lower lip then smiled brightly into the footlights.
"But I am not here to tell you about the Charter, my job is to introduce the vampires who have been instrumental in drawing it up. My task as a representative of the Five is to underline our full support for this movement and it is our hope that we can persuade you to get behind it as well. For this reason, I will thank you for your attention and introduce to you, with the greatest of honour, to our Empress, Moya of Europe."
I stood back and bowed low, as I had been instructed, to the Empress as she ascended the podium and then took my seat beside the old Transylvanian Tomas Ardelean.
The Empress and I had smiled when I'd practised it, but she'd nonetheless been the one who insisted that I do it. Protocol was protocol after all, and she had only been Empress for three years – she needed to assert her authority a little bit more.
She winked at me in passing, the briefest flicker of her eyelid.
As she looked over her notes with the eerie, silent calm that vampires possess even at the most stressful times, the screen behind her silently lit up. As I took my seat I saw Stephen, responsible for tech support throughout the tour, click the mouse of his laptop, preparing her Power Point presentation to go. We had done this all over the United States, it had long since become routine.
Nonetheless I looked for his boss and my godmother Ilaria by his side and waited to get her thumbs up before I could relax. Both of their faces were focused on the Empress, watching her intently. Moya Kennedy was a brilliant orator. If anyone could persuade the American vampire population to sign up for the Charter of Vampire Rights, then it was her.
Or that, at least, is what we had thought when we began; it was proving far more difficult than we thought.
She gave her speech, she showed the slides with the statistics about vampire population, procreation and control, then she outlined the main points of the Charter and the extent of its potential influence … and power.
As on every stop of our tour so far, this part did not go down well.
Vampires in the New World had been used to an almost tribal system of government, whereby each state or area had generally been almost self-governing. They'd had a Vampire Authority which had essentially spent decades trying to rein its wayward vampires in, before it had ultimately imploded. The United States had many kings, queens and councillors, but was without a single leadership figure or High Council, and it looked like they liked it that way.
Now this Charter was suggesting a unified method of government worldwide, with a global Council for Vampire Affairs and a universal charter. The American vampires, we were discovering, were not impressed.
Up until now, our vampire audiences had been cautious about revealing how they felt. They'd listened politely, out of respect, and saved their curiosity, criticism or bile till the Q&A at the end. To my surprise, a lot of the American vampires were wary of an authority – any authority. Ultimately, our vampire audiences knew they would have the right to vote on the issue, so maybe that's why we'd never encountered open resistance or rebellion.
Up until now in Dallas.
When Moya finished, she paused and looked around the silent auditorium – they never clapped, that was nothing new – and waited for the first question. And when it came she was not pleased.
"Cui bono?" came the shout. "Imperatrix! Cui bono?"
It was in Latin, the traditional language of vampire affairs in the empire she now ruled, a sign that the vampires listening disapproved of this new Empress and her temerity.
"Cui bono?" sounded the echo of vampire voices across the room.
"Imperatrix! Cui bono?" - Empress! Who benefits?
More and more voices took up the cry, till the room resonated with the chant, "Cui bono? Cui bono? Cui bono?"
It frightened me, the atmosphere was suddenly threatening, ugly.
We, the other members of the Five Families, looked at Tomas Ardelean for help. He was the only one of us with any experience of these big vampire gatherings: he'd attended a few in his eighty or so years.
"We leave now," he said in his gravelly voice, standing up, his gnarled hand firmly around the top of his walking stick. "Before they drain us."
He exited, with the four of us close behind.
When I looked back, the Empress was still standing behind the podium, her hand raised to silence the crowd, but they were ignoring her.
What we had long suspected now seemed to be true: the American vampires were not keen on the idea of the Charter.
Not at all.