Page 116 of Envious Of Fire
“Blood laced with fear is the tastiest by far. The adrenaline is intoxicating. You wouldn’t like me to describe the methods of torture I employed to get precisely the taste my family and I so desired. That’s how one gets what one wants—through actions, threats, and fear, I have learned. Violence is a beautiful tool.”
I pray you aren’t suggesting to Lord Markadian that we torture and terrorize our Bloods, says Tristan.Or do I need to perform a bit of rudimentary math to remind you how very outnumbered we are?
“You said whatever we please however we please. My desire is to hurt people.” George hugs himself, eyes still closed tightly. “My desire is to watch others suffer. My nature cannot be wrong. My wishes cannot be evil. They are mine. Is that wrong?”
The rushing sands grow louder all around.No,says Tristan carefully.I suppose it isn’t.
“And if I want people to die?”
Any society, even our own, must be held together by common understandings.This is why we don’t kill anyone we please.Why we don’t steal what is not ours.Or wear brown belts with black shoes.
“Then I cannot do as I please?”
If you wish to be part of the world, you must learn the one principle under which it operates, one principle only: restraint.
“So we all must … deny our natures …?”
Curb your desires, but don’t abandon them.Refrain from your impulses, but always hear them.You must always be satisfied…even if you are starved. Tristan plucks an hourglass right off the shelf behind him, a small one, six inches in height, its sands slightly pink in hue, almost orange.The ones whosurvive longest are the ones who exercise restraint.
“Is that what you’ve learned, Tristan?”
Tristan stares into the hourglass, doesn’t answer. He finds himself thinking about Kyle, about Brock, about a violinist …
The next instant, George is no longer upon the desk. He is in front of Tristan, towering over him, his manic eyes widened, his breath reeking of sour blood. “The truth is, you are the liar. You know no ‘restraint’. You have lied to every person you ever loved. Betrayed every person you ever loved. Hurt every person you ever loved. Is there even a soul left on this planet you haven’t hurt?”
Tristan’s back is already against the shelves, hourglass upon his chest, nowhere to go.
“You take such a pious stance against the drinking of blood, acting as if you are so afraid to become a true vampire, clinging to your humanity. But I don’t for a moment believe it proves you are not bloodthirsty. All you know is thirst.” His words are as thin as paper. He lifts his chin. “I have stood in this office for hours thinking on the meaninglessness of everything … on our sad little existences … you and I … and I have realized only one thing remains in this world that means anything to me.”
Tristan smiles as he considers a funny response, one thing that is meaningful to George—his suits, his shiny shoes, these long-winded tirades of his.
Until George finishes: “My soul. And there is only one way in which my soul can be redeemed. It is by doing what no one would expect me to. Not even you. Not even me.”
Tristan freezes, watching the change in George’s eyes.
“I will tell Markadian everything,” he declares, breath spilling over Tristan’s blank face. “What we did. The necromancy. What he nearly caught on his midday journey to the Scarlet Sands. I will tell him. And no matter the consequence, even if the price is my life, then I shall depart thisworld knowing I have done one act to serve my soul. One act to serve my Lord. One act to save my—”
What bullshit, says Tristan almost politely.You are doing this only to hurt me.Your true desire: hurting people, just like you said.A desperate effort to serve yourself.You have no soul, can’t even pretend.
“We’ve done this dance for too long, haven’t we?” George smiles. It is unexpectedly gentle, even his tone of voice, even the look in his eyes. Does he believe what he says? That notion scares Tristan the most of all. “I think I shall tell him now.”
With that, George sweeps past Tristan, fleeing the office.
Tristan staggers, blinking. He is bluffing, isn’t he?
Telling Markadian such a thing could easily bring his own downfall. He can’t possibly risk that. Reputation and prestige is all George holds dear. He wouldn’t possibly throw it away.
Tristan is after him at once.You are drunk on the blood.When it wears off soon, you will come to your senses, you will realize—
“Think on those you have hurt and betrayed,” George goes on as he moves swiftly down the stone corridor, Tristan on his tail. “Think on your own need to practice restraint, to adapt.”
You call this restraint? Goodness, I’ll think twice before trusting you with the company credit card.
“Nothing you say will change my heart, Tristan. It is set.”
Poor Raya, our dear innocent party, she will be punished by your confession, too, I am sure.Do you really want that?
“A natural consequence for which I hold no guilt, as it was by her own choice that she became involved in your game.” He takes a corner, Tristan following, and the colorful glow of the Midnight Garden now envelops them, a starry sky over the glass dome high above. “You two were always a pair, even before you left.”
