Chapter 18: The First Proto-Vampire (Part 2)
Marcus screamed.
Not silent anymore. Full-throated, agonized, the kind of sound that came from someone experiencing pain beyond human comprehension. His body convulsed on the concrete, spine arching at impossible angles, and I had to pin his shoulders to keep him from thrashing into the walls.
"Hold on," I said, though he couldn't hear me. "Your nephew needs you. Hold on."
His bones were breaking. Not accidentally—intentionally. The ancient blood was restructuring him from the inside out, snapping bones and reforming them stronger. His ribcage expanded with a series of wet cracks. Vertebrae popped like gunshots.
Davina's hands shook as she maintained the pain-dampening spell. "It's not working. He's feeling all of it."
"Keep trying."
"Roy, his body is tearing itself apart—"
"He's strong enough. He has to be."
Elijah stood a few feet away, watching with barely concealed horror. "This is what you endured? When Klaus's curse broke?"
"Similar. Worse for him—he's going from human to Proto-Vampire in one go. I was already a vampire when the hybrid nature activated."
Marcus's skin rippled. Muscles tore and rebuilt themselves, denser, harder. His hands clenched, nails gouging into concrete like it was clay. Blood leaked from his eyes, his nose, his ears—the old blood purging itself to make room for the new.
Two hours in, he stopped screaming.
That was worse.
His body kept convulsing, kept breaking and reforming, but no sound came out. Just ragged breathing and the wet crack of bones reshaping.
"Is he—" Davina started.
"Still alive. Barely." I felt for his pulse. Faint. Irregular. But present. "Come on, Marcus. You're almost through it."
Three hours. His body went still.
Complete, total stillness.
I checked his pulse. Nothing. No heartbeat. No breathing. He was dead.
The question was: would he wake up?
We waited. Five minutes. Ten. Fifteen.
"Roy," Elijah said quietly. "I don't think—"
Marcus's eyes snapped open.
Red. Glowing red like embers. His fangs extended with a click, longer and sharper than normal vampire fangs. He gasped—not for air, but from the shock of sensation flooding back into a body that had been shut down.
I offered my wrist immediately. "Drink. You need blood."
He lunged. Grabbed my arm with strength that surprised even me and bit down. The feeding was desperate, animalistic, but I let him take what he needed. My blood flowed into him, completing the connection, sealing the transformation.
After a minute, I pulled away. "That's enough. Easy."
Marcus released me, falling back against the wall, chest heaving despite not needing air. His eyes were still red, pupils blown wide with bloodlust and confusion.
"What..." His voice was rough, deeper than before. "What am I?"
I smiled. Relief flooding through me so intense it was almost painful. "You're a Proto-Vampire. Welcome to the family, Marcus."
He looked at his hands. Flexed them. The concrete crumbled under his fingers like sand. "I can feel... everything. The blood in your veins. The witch's heartbeat. The air moving through the warehouse."
"Enhanced senses. You're stronger, faster, and harder to kill than any normal vampire."
"How much stronger?"
"Test it. Carefully."
Marcus stood—fluid, graceful despite his size—and walked to the concrete support pillar in the center of the room. He touched it. Then punched.
The pillar cracked. A spiderweb of fractures spreading from the impact point.
"Jesus Christ," he breathed.
"60-70% of Original strength," I explained. "You can punch through brick walls, run faster than cars, heal from almost anything. Sunlight will burn you without protection, but Davina can make you a daylight ring. And you can only be killed by decapitation with specific wood or heart extraction."
Marcus processed that, running his hands through his hair. It was a human gesture in a body that wasn't human anymore. "My nephew. Dylan. Can I see him?"
"Already arranged. He's at a safe house under my protection. You kept your end of the bargain—risked death for power. I keep mine. He'll be cared for, educated, protected. And you can be part of his life, teach him, watch him grow." I paused. "But you'll need to control yourself first. The bloodlust is overwhelming right now. Give it a few days."
"I can wait." He looked at me with something like awe. "You actually did it. You gave me power to protect him."
"You earned it. By surviving. Most can't."
"Why?"
"Because my blood is too pure. Too old. It requires a soul that's already been hardened by genuine suffering. Soft lives create soft people, and soft people die in the transition." I met his eyes. "You survived because you'd already been broken and rebuilt yourself. The transformation was just doing it again on a biological level."
Marcus laughed—short, surprised. "So losing Sarah... that's what saved me?"
"In a way. Loss made you strong. Strong enough to endure this."
Davina approached carefully, hands raised. "How do you feel? Beyond the physical changes?"
"Hungry. Overwhelmed. But..." He flexed his hands again, watching muscles move under skin. "Alive. For the first time in over a year, I actually feel alive."
"That's good. That's important." She pulled a small box from her bag. "This is a daylight ring. Basic enchantment—lets you walk in sunlight without burning. Put it on."
Marcus took the silver ring, slipped it on his finger. "Thank you."
"Don't mention it. Just... try not to eat any humans. Roy gets cranky when his sireline goes on murder sprees."
"I don't—"
"She's joking," I said. "Mostly. But seriously, Marcus, you need to feed carefully. Animal blood is safest while you learn control. Human blood is more potent but also more addictive. And if you kill someone, Marcel will have you staked before sunrise."
"Who's Marcel?"
"Vampire king of New Orleans. He maintains order. Kill humans and you break his rules." I gestured around the warehouse. "You'll stay here for now. Learn to control your new abilities. Once you're stable, we'll introduce you to Dylan and figure out your new life."
Marcus nodded slowly. Processing. "I have questions. So many questions."
"And I'll answer them. But first, you need to feed properly and rest. Transformation takes a lot out of you." I looked at Elijah. "Can you escort him to the feeding area? Blood bags in the mini fridge."
"Of course." Elijah moved forward, surprisingly gentle given his usual formality. "Come, Marcus. Let's get you settled."
They left. Davina and I stayed in the main warehouse, standing in the aftermath of the transformation.
"You did it," she said quietly. "Created your first Proto-Vampire."
"Yeah."
"How do you feel?"
I thought about that. "Responsible. Terrified. Proud. All at once." I looked at the cracked pillar, the blood stains on the concrete, the evidence of violence and rebirth. "I created life. Changed someone fundamentally. That's... that's huge."
"You gave him choice. That matters."
"Does it? I showed him power he couldn't refuse. Offered hope to a desperate man. Is that really choice, or just manipulation with extra steps?"
"Roy." She grabbed my arm, made me look at her. "He could have said no. At any point. You warned him about the risks, gave him time to think, respected his decision. That's more than most sires do."
"Doesn't make watching him suffer easier."
"No. But it makes you better than the monsters who create vampires for fun." She smiled. "You're building something good here. A family. People who chose this instead of having it forced on them."
"One person so far. Hardly a family."
"It's a start."
We stood there for a moment, surrounded by the evidence of transformation. Then I heard footsteps on the stairs. Marcus, with Elijah following.
"The blood helped," Marcus said. "I feel... steadier."
"Good. You'll need to feed regularly for the next few weeks. Body's still adjusting." I walked over, extended my hand formally. "Welcome to the Proto-Vampire bloodline, Marcus Cole. You're the first. Hopefully not the last. But definitely the most important."
He shook my hand. His grip was strong, controlled. "Thank you. For the chance. For keeping your promise about Dylan. For..." He swallowed hard. "For seeing me as worth saving."
"You were always worth saving. You just needed the power to do it yourself."
Marcus left with Elijah shortly after—needed to rest, learn to control his new senses in a quieter environment. Davina packed up her magical supplies and headed home, leaving me alone in the warehouse.
I sat on the floor where Marcus had transformed. Blood still stained the concrete. The pillar was still cracked from his first punch.
Evidence. Proof that I'd done it. Created a vampire from my bloodline. Someone who'd be loyal because he chose to be, not because I'd compelled him. Someone strong enough to protect what he loved.
And I'd only had to watch him suffer through three hours of agony to do it.
Is this what being a sire is supposed to feel like?
I didn't know. But I knew this: I'd given Marcus the tools to protect Dylan. To be the guardian his nephew needed. And in doing so, I'd created the foundation of a family.
A very small family. One person.
But it was mine. Built on choice instead of force. On suffering earned instead of inflicted.
That had to mean something.
I stayed on the floor until dawn, thinking about responsibility and power and what it meant to create life from death.
By the time the sun rose, I'd made a decision: I'd be selective. Careful. Only turn people who truly needed it, who'd earned it through suffering, who'd survive the process because they'd already survived worse.
Quality over quantity. Loyalty over numbers.
And maybe—just maybe—I'd build something that lasted. Something better than what Esther and Mikael had created with me.
A family that chose to stay instead of being chained.
That was worth more than any army.
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