The Vampire of the Prophecy
The Prophecy Trilogy: Book 3
Standing on a pedestal, before an array of mirrors, Rori got a good look at himself at every angle. He raised his chin, inspecting the cut of the fabric. The tailor had mocked it into trousers and a vest. The bright white lines indicating seams blared at him against the navy material. He turned watching how the suit, held together with tiny pins, moved with him.
The tailor, behind him, stood stroking his chin with one hand; the other grasped his measuring tape. Beside him, his ever-present shadow, or bodyguard, Jonas, stood bored. In black tactical pants, matching boots, and a tight plain black T-shirt, Jonas couldn’t have looked more out of place inside the tailor’s shop, at midnight, if he tried.
“Shall we add the jacket?” The short, white-haired, tailor asked holding up the crudely stitched garment to Rori.
“I think so.” Rori agreed. He shook out his arms for the tailor to slide it on him.
Admiring himself in the mirrors, he twisted a few times. The way they were angled gave him a better view of his body in a way he wouldn’t normally see. The transformation from a nondescript man to a regal figure reflected back at him. The specially tailored garments added a refined flare denoting an undeniable nobility, and it wasn’t even done.
A bespoke suit was the way to go. He’d never realized just how much clothing impacted how he could be perceived. Once complete, the perfectly tailored ensemble would accent his tight lean figure and send the message that he was royalty.
Giving a nod, Rori turned fully to the two men. Reaching to fiddle with the cuffs of his shirt, he inhaled deeply. “I believe this will do.” He smirked at himself. Even his tone had changed. To his own ear, he sounded more confident and commanding.
A large grin grew on the wrinkled face of the frail tailor. “Marvelous.”
“You have the three fabric selections to make the others?” Rori asked with an arched brow.
“Of course.” The tailor nodded as he scurried over to a counter. Digging around behind it, he pulled out swatches. “The pinstripe, herringbone, and the...” the man trailed off after having pulled out the two. Frantically, he dug beneath catalogs. “Oh!” He proclaimed pulling out the last. “And the Prince-of-Wales.” The relief in the discovery of the final swatch of fabric rang not only in his words but worn upon his face.
Rori stepped off the pedestal and headed toward the counter. Running his fingers over the swatches, he looked down his nose scrutinizing the fabric. “Yes.” He agreed. “These will do.” Turning, with his hand still on the herringbone, his cognac gaze fell upon his companion. “Do you have the deposit?”
Rolling his dark brown eyes, Jonas stepped forward. Withdrawing a cashier’s check from one of the many pockets of his pants, he extended it toward Rori. “I’m a fucking knight, not a manservant,” he hissed.
Chuckling, Rori took the check from him and passed it on to the tailor. “I know. It’s just more fun this way.”
“Asshole,” Jonas mumbled under his breath.
With a snicker, Rori turned his attention back to the tailor. Having taken the check, the man practically salivated at the amount. “We’re settled then. I shall be by in a week for the navy one. The rest I can pick up as they become available. I’ll give you the balance for each suit as they are complete.”
Collecting his composure, the tailor let the check drop to the counter and he looked up to the two men. “Yes, that sounds right.”
“Again, I appreciate your accommodating my odd business hours.” Rori nodded as though to explain the extra zeros in the deposit.
Heading to the dressing room, with the tailor hot on his heels, he sought to strip himself of the in-production suit. He’d never had a custom tailor-made suit before. Even in its unfinished state, it fit him better than any other article of clothing he owned. He could get used to the feel of that.
As he allowed the tailor to undress him, his mind wandered to the reason for such extravagance. He was to be Emperor of the Vampires in the United States Region. He would take a seat on the Council of Others and have a say in all the laws that governed his kind, the wolves’ kind, and witches. While he had never been a schlubby dresser, he felt it more appropriate to dress the part of royalty.
Left alone in his bright blue boxer briefs, he glanced at his reflection. Pale skin covered his lean body. The signs of aging were absent. Aging had stopped in its tracks the moment he became a vampire, at his human age of 20. Running his hand through the bit of length to his soft brown hair at the top of his head, he regarded himself with scrutiny. The closely trimmed goatee gave his round baby face some age. Though, without a wrinkle, it was his eyes that told the story of the time he had seen.
“It’s only been a few days, and you’re already letting this whole process go to your head.” Jonas mocked from the doorway of the dressing room.
The chestnut skinned knight of vampire court leaned against the doorframe with the curtain draped over his side, blocking anyone else’s view of the nearly naked Rori inside. With his arms folded over his broad chest, the sleeves of his plain black T-shirt strained to contain his biceps. With his closely cropped military haircut, Jonas looked every bit the part of a soldier.
Rori scoffed off the teasing and picked up his dark wash jeans. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“You don’t think the suits are a little much?” The vampire knight asked. “I mean, they haven’t even chosen you yet. We have what, two more weeks before the new moon?”
Stuffing one leg in and then the other, Rori tugged the jeans up his thighs. “I’m the vampire of the prophecy. I have no doubts it will be me.”
Lifting his brows, a smile grew on Jonas’s face. “This from the guy who was adamant he didn’t want the throne?”
Slipping a crisp white shirt over his shoulders, he turned toward the mirror and focused on dressing while he spoke to him. “I have come to realize that the prophecy is not a choice.”
The swish of the curtain falling drew his attention to Jonas as he stepped further into the dressing room. Without a word, he reached up and corrected the collar Rori struggled with on the shirt. “Your mate rejected you and you’re bitter.” He said meeting Rori’s gaze in the mirror.
Holding the stare for a moment, Rori cleared his throat. Pretending to focus on tucking his shirt into his jeans, he looked away. “She wasn’t meant for me. The prophecy is clear on that.”
The vampire whose heart beats for a witch who belongs to a wolf shall save us all. He shall take his throne and rule over all kinds. If not, the vampire who belongs to the witch will end all kinds. It ran through his mind on a continuous loop amid the conversation.
“Bull shit.” Jonas shook his head. “You don’t believe that. You’re just all butt-hurt cause of the wolf.”
Turning to face the knight, Rori slipped his black vest over the shirt before attending to his fly. “My feelings about this don’t matter. What matters is what the prophecy states, and what must be done to protect all supernatural kind. It has to be me because she chose him.”
Jonas shook his head as he huffed out a breath. Stepping back away from Rori, he licked his lip before he spoke. “I liked you better when you were in love.”
Scoffing, Rori turned back to the mirror while he buttoned his vest. “My heart beats for her. I will love her forever.”