Abraham that I turned to.”

* * *

Theroen had not stood in front of the large, stone dwelling which housed his father in nearly half a century. He could feel Abraham here and, as ever, that presence disgusted him. The throbbing in his head was distant now; it had faded away to an echo of pain over the course of the lengthy walk. His sire’s mansion loomed before him, Golgotha, the place of death.

Summing up his courage, Theroen walked up the path to the large double doors, rapped once, twice. There was no answer, but he felt the invitation as if on the breeze. Come in, come in. He opened the doors, stepped into the light that burned not for Abraham, but for appearance. Abraham’s quarters would be without light. There, down the hall where the torches lay dark.

Theroen stood outside the doors to Abraham’s sanctuary, wondering what he might say to this creature whose evil he had abandoned. Wondering what vengeance might be exacted for this betrayal.

There was a low chuckle from somewhere beyond the doors, and they swung open before him. All inside was blackness, save the embers of a small fire just inside the doorway. When the voice came, it was from the far end of the hall.

“And so, the prodigal son returns. Come in, Theroen.”

“Abraham. Father.” Theroen stepped into the darkness, and the doors shut behind him. The elder vampire laughed again at this.

“Oh, and now it’s ‘Father,’ is it? How very delicious. Now that the lover is on the slab, and the dream is over, the fledgling returns to his sire.”

Theroen felt his heart shudder at this. He shut his eyes for a moment, spoke into the darkness. “She is... dead, then?”

“Surely she must be, no? Isaac is many things, but a procrastinator he is not.”

“How much do you know? Could you not have stopped it?”

“Theroen. You never gave me time to teach you! You never wanted to be my son, not after that moment of weakness in the graveyard, after you were accosted by that idiot Leopold. The scrolls speak of many things, and one of them is this: the affairs of others are their own. Certainly, I could have interfered, but these are not my affairs. Your reluctance to be my son has made it so. What concern is any of this to me?”

“And so you did nothing.”

Abraham laughed. “My son, my son... why would I do else? Do we share a bond of love, that I would come from on high to rescue your beloved? No. You have spurned me from the first. Now you come to me with accusations. I am not the guilty party, Theroen. You have not earned the right for such salvation.”

“But it was in your power to grant, as it is within your power to give me revenge.”

“Many things are within my power. Light a candle, Theroen.”

Theroen had no matches, and so used a branch from the fire. The light did little for the room, but he could see Abraham’s face now, the heavy eyebrows overshadowing eyes which gleamed with malefic humor. Abraham looked like a wolf as it gazes upon a herd of sheep. On the whole, Theroen found he preferred the darkness. Abraham seemed to sense this, and the gleam of his eyes was joined by firelight reflecting from his grin.

“You will never be like me, Theroen.”

“No, father.”

“And yet, some part of me is pleased with your return. A deal, Theroen?”

“Go on.”

“Be my fledgling. Be my servant. Be what you were supposed to be when I made you. Remain here with me, or wherever I may choose to go, until such time as you are of age. Perhaps in a handful of centuries, you will be ready. Some fledglings never leave their masters. My blood runs in you, though, and you are powerful... or will be.

“Now, though? Now you are weak, and in need of a master not so easily dispatched.”

“What do I receive for this service?”

“Ah. Yes. The deal. My end of our little... bargain. Remain with me here, Theroen, prove your loyalty, and perhaps I will look more kindly upon you. Perhaps I will see your plight with Isaac in more sympathetic light.”

“Perhaps? It seems an unbalanced arrangement, father.”

“I do not think, my son, that you are in a position to make any demands at this time. I will assuage your doubts, however. I am many things, and most of those are evil. Wicked. Hateful. I hold no love for any vampire. I hold