Swear on your first born child

Lucius

It all started with a man named Lott, with two Ts. He and his wife were trying to escape Gomorrah, when she turned back.

Just kidding. Actually, now that I think about it, if you spin the story in the right light and tell a few lies, that's not so far off. Anyway, the truth was that I never wanted to be the king of vampires. I never wanted most parts of the story that happened, really. All I had wanted to begin with was a specific set of tarot cards.

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"Hello, Sirekiller."

I smiled at my human contact. The name had stuck with me for decades now and I encouraged it. Fear was a good deterrent against challenges to my authority in the underworld of damned creatures and I liked to be left alone.

Even among vampires, it is an awe inspiring thing to come across one who has murdered their own Sire. It meant killing the creature whose vein I had fed at for so long, meant killing someone whose supernatural authority over me was supposed to be law.

How did one kill the creature whose every word one was magically compelled to obey? I didn't give that answer freely, nor did I give the answer for why I would want to. I let creatures wonder instead, let them spread their own tales to inspire fear against me.

The human before me had healthy amounts of fear of me. He reeked of it, the pores in his body excreting sweat infused with the spicy tang of adrenaline.

Fortunately for him, I was not a young vampire at that time, or he would have teased my hungers.

"Mr. Lott." I shook his hand politely. "Our mutual friend put us in contact over something I very much covet. He assured me that you are the best purveyor of certain... types of items." I flashed my teeth because he knew all this.

And I knew he knew all of this because for a half hour before meeting him, one of his hired servants had taken me through a long way of his mansion, ensuring that the route showed off all the oddities and rarities that he owned.

I had been shown a great many magical trinkets. A very old edition of the Book of the Dead, for instance, written in hieroglyphs that still held magic in their ink from long dead Egyptian priestesses.

A skeletal hand was another thing, one that had been infused with such black magic that it made the demon inside my blood purr to see such corruption.

A dagger lay in a case and that had been forged with the blood of a very powerful fae. There had been countless toys, ageless delights, and Lott's family was an old money name, so the mansion he lived in was an even more surreal and wonderful home for these objects. They looked every bit like they belonged there.

Despite his fear of me, Lott grinned with a confidence and pride that he had earned the right to have. It was far from easy to collect these things.

"Yes, as you can see. Forgive the waste of time, but I thought it might be better to open with some confidence building."

I waved my hand. "I have nothing but time. And I appreciate the thought it came from. Now, did he tell you what I am looking for?"

Lott smiled and gestured to his Conservatory lounge chairs. I inclined my head at the propriety, amused at the politics involved in something as simple as the seating arrangements in a room like that one.

As it was, Lott sat a seat away from me, enough to display respectful caution of my species, but not so much as to appear rude. "He did, indeed. Would you care for Scotch?"

"Yes, if you're offering. What kind?"

He listed the brand and I pretended to have heard of it. I didn't truly care for or about human liquor, but after enough millennia, all alcohol bragging was the same conversation, and I knew how to play with vagueness.

I knew very well how to sound polite while saying nothing at all, so that the person I spoke with felt both impressed and felt as if they had gotten to flounce their own knowledge.

When I sipped, I swished the liquid in my mouth, tasting the poison that translated to human drunkenness. For me, there was little else I could taste besides the variations of poison in liquor, and poison was the best word I could give it for my kind.

It didn't give us any of the good feelings while giving all of the bad, unless we drank it in the blood of a victim. That, on the other hand, could be quite enjoyable.

"Forgive the civilities. I'm a creature of habit, Lucius. May I call you that?" At my polite nod, he continued. "Yes, he said you sought the tarot cards of one of the Prague Gypsies."

I smiled in pleasure. Those cards would have been well seasoned with a particularly powerful readers' aura. She had known the true magics, the incantations and rituals required for enhancements. "Indeed. Can you find them for me?"

"I can. I also demand payment for doing so up front."

I considered that. As a vampire, it would not be enticing. I would have been a fool to agree, especially for something so undoubtedly expensive.

But I was not just a vampire anymore and this was the same secret that had earned me my title. The demon of Depravity was assimilated in my blood and his magic would ensure recompense if a pact was made.

"As you will." Lott's shock pulsed through his blood and he made my nostrils flare with the scent. "I require your word. Would you swear, say, on your first born, when they come of age, to follow through your end in two months' time if I pay beforehand?"

He tilted his head. "With all due respect, Lucius, you realize that in today's day and age, such contracts are not enforceable and my death would be noticed if you tried to kill me."

I shrugged. Let him think as he willed. If he failed, he would not be the first creature tricked by a demon.

"With all due respect back, Mr. Lott, I am from a different species and a different world than you, a more violent world. It is a ritual that is more for my benefit than yours and one that soothes me. I ask that you follow it."

He considered me, but a man like Lott had already had encounters with the underworld of creatures and our idiosyncrasies, it seemed, because his shock faded for speculation and consideration.

His nerves even faded and I could easily see what had made him such a good heir to his family's legacy.

"Very well, Sirekiller. I swear on my first born child when they come of age. Pay up front and you will earn what you've requested in two months' time."

I smiled, flashing my fangs. "It's a deal then. I have already been named your price. Is that the number you will hold to?"

"Yes. Up front, I'll even lessen it."

That's when I knew. He wasn't actually trying to trick me. I could smell the sincerity. Sad, then, how the story ended. We left on good terms for the time being, the demon inside of me having sealed our word exchange with his own strange brand of magic, and I was confident that Lott would indeed try to hold to his end of the deal.

When I was safely outside the bounds of his domicile and not restricted by invitation on the magic I could use, I dematerialized and willed myself back to my own home.

It wasn't something most vampires were capable of doing, but like I said, I had assimilated the demon of Depravity and he was a timeless, powerful creature in my blood.

If not for him and my willingness to do whatever necessary to be free of my Sire, I would still be trapped in an undead hell.

I had not lied when I said I came from a different time.

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