Dark Tarot (Dark Carpathians)

It was Abascus Baros who spotted the woman moving alone toward the large sprawling mansion nearly hidden in the shadows of the mountains. Not one of his pathetic, fawning pawns had seen her. Not his servants, the two vampires that were inching closer to becoming master vampires, or the ones serving just below them, four of them he could usually rely on for bringing exquisite gifts—men, women and children for him to feast on.

He was sated, having dined well on the inhabitants of a farmhouse several miles down from where she was. He would have kept going, flying over the forest, but there was something intriguing about the way the night hid her from him. He circled back around, soundless, dropping just a little lower, and then finally taking the shape of an owl to settle onto the branch of a tree in order to watch her. The tree shuddered beneath him, branches shivering, the needles withering. He hissed his impatience and waved one wing to stop the process. Nature had a way of finding him repugnant. He didn’t mind.

His servants called out to him, and he waved them to silence, annoyed that they would dare interrupt him. This woman had totally captured his attention, something very hard to do. He didn’t want to take his gaze from her, because even if he blinked, she seemed to disappear. He was aware, at times, of shadows slinking in the trees around her. She didn’t seem aware of them—or of any danger. She just walked at a steady pace toward that mansion, right up the drive.

He should swoop down and grab her. Call out. He could stop any human with his voice. He opened his mouth to demand she halt, but only the squawk of the owl came out. He hadn’t made such an amateur mistake in over eight hundred years. He used the owl’s capability to rotate 270 degrees to ensure none of his followers had observed his error.

A few owls sat in the other trees. None dared to share the one he had settled in. They knew to stop the shivering of the branches, but the lesser pawns, still unable to control their impulses and power, couldn’t prevent the sap from boiling out of the cracks like black blood. The sight was mesmerizing. He could barely pull his gaze away.

Wind softly shifted the branches, blowing through the needles, creating a strange tune that echoed through the mind of the owl. A clicking of branches. A rhythm. He used such a beat to hypnotize his enemies into inaction while he gained control of them, growing near much like a wolf as it locked in on its prey. The strange noise was very attractive to the owl, to all of them, and they turned their heads this way and that, looking for the source of the sound.

Abascus pulled back abruptly, forcing his mind away from the owl’s. He was the driving force, not the bird. He was in total control. In command. He searched the ground once more for his prey. She was at the thick door already, looking small and enticing. Something about her drew him like a magnet. She turned and looked out at the night, at the shadowy shapes slinking in and out of the trees, then into the surrounding forest, even up at the trees where the owls waited. She looked with unseeing eyes, and deep within the owl’s body, Abascus gave an evil smile of pure satisfaction. Humans were never aware, even when they were stalked.

Once more, as she turned, placing her hand on the doorknob, the master vampire sent out an order to stop her in her tracks. The mansion was enormous, and he didn’t want to have to search for a window or door that was open. Nor did he want to have to resort to trickery to be invited in.

Again, when his voice should have commanded her, nothing emerged but the call of the owl. This time, the others had to have heard. The woman went into her home without a backward glance, leaving him sitting in the owl’s body, his temper rising. He took to the air, flying through the forest with all the skill of the owl but the speed of the vampire. He needed the outlet of feeling the air under his wings while he decided if delaying his journey was worth going back to seek answers.

He decided to take one spin around the mansion in an effort to understand why the woman drew him to her. He turned back, slowing his speed, and led his followers back in the direction of the estate. It was a large one for the remoteness of the area. As he approached the house itself, an uneasy feeling came over him. Dread. An oppressive trepidation that came close to actual fear.