The Book of Nod

The Dark Father Chronicles:

The Book of Nod

* *

Zach Robertson Jr.

Copyright 2014 by Zach Robertson Jr.

Smashwords Edition

* *

This eBook is licensed for your personal

enjoyment only. This eBook cannot be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it or it was not purchased for your use only then please return to your favourite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

* *

Other works by Zach Robertson Jr:

Creatures of the Night: Genesis

Creatures of the Night: Revelations

The Pedigree

Disclaimer:

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either

are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any

resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is

entirely coincidental.

Dedicated to those who appreciate a good fang-biting story.

Synopsis:

The Camarilla and the Black Hand share a long and bitter feud that goes beyond the limits of imagination and will do anything to end one another's existence. A mythical Book containing supernatural powers granted from their ancestors lies buried and forgotten somewhere, waiting for the day it will be unearthed and unleash an unspeakable evil on earth.

Prologue 

Riordan muttered a curse as he just managed to reach the curb before a cab raced past, splashing a puddle of water that barely missed him. Still cursing, he rushed over to a kiosk along the street and bought a pack of cigarettes, lighting up quickly and inhaling the sweet smoke slowly. He bought a newspaper and started off down the street. The air was a bit chilly with the rumbling clouds in the distance sending out a warning of things to come.

He picked up his pace as he turned a corner and a large office building with the words Camarilla Enterprises emblazoned in thick gold letters right at the top came into view. He smiled as he saw the fruits of the labour of the past century and a half. The Masquerade had really been arguably the best idea in dark history and had allowed each and every one of them to amass great wealth, all of which manifested itself in one of the largest corporations worldwide.

Camarilla Enterprises was just about involved in anything you could think of; television, radio, beverages, clothing, sports, advertising, technology, research, and even money laundering. Politicians, judges, lawyers, and even the police were all on the company payroll and thus many a blind eye was turned to some of the illegal activities of the company, as well as the disturbing rumours that frequently circulated around it.

It had taken a long time but finally, they’d been able to achieve what they’d craved for a very long time; to go undetected about their business. But even they could not have foreseen the power that they now held across the globe. They were kings among men and could now practically do whatever they wanted. However, The Masquerade was still not to be breached or everything they had achieved and much more would be lost.

Riordan knew the importance of The Masquerade and had always strived to uphold the rules and regulations even when it seemed impossible. But there were others who were hell bent on bringing trouble to the organisation and seeing the Camarilla fall. This was why he wasn’t really looking forward to the meeting this morning. It was sure to only stir up trouble and cause even further friction between the two most powerful members of the Camarilla.

Walking through the big revolving doors, he stepped lightly across the marbled foyer, sparing a huge grin for the clutch of lady heads that he turned as he made his way to a private elevator available only to the Kindred. He was used to such adoration from the female species, seeing as he was deadly handsome, his skin flawless to the look. Of course, it only made it that much easier to lure the humans in and strike but only when it was necessary. The Masquerade forbade any hunting for anything else other than survival.

Camarilla Enterprises was comprised of the Kindred and humans alike, working side by side though obviously one side had no clue about the dark nature of their counterparts. Feeding inside the company was strictly forbidden and severe punishments were handed out if this rule was ever breached as it sometimes was. As he passed through the hallways leading to the conference room, he was once again met with flirty looks and giggles and being the notorious babe magnet he was, he returned in kind, all the while thinking how oblivious they were to the dark truth inside him.

Chapter One

The air in the conference room was filled with the tension of centuries as Riordan quietly took his place at the table, though he still got a few sullen looks for being late. It had been a long and hard road to ensure the faces that now sat at the table were, in some way, united. Long gone were the days when the Clans were separated and it was every man for himself. The creation of the Camarilla had changed all that and had guaranteed some measure of peace.

The Camarilla, as a loose organisation, represented and protected all Kindred by enforcing and promulgating The Masquerade; a web of lies and misinformation to make the public believe supernatural beings like vampires could not possibly exist so as to easily feed on them. Composed of seven clans, the Camarilla was the largest organization of vampires, and possibly of any supernatural creatures, in the World of Darkness. Its symbol was an ankh hanging from a necklace.

The organisation had sworn to uphold the legendary Six Traditions of Kane, the Father of all vampires. Like any other laws though, the Traditions were commonly ignored, bent or violated outright.

The First Tradition:

The Masquerade

Thou shall not reveal thy nature to those not of the Blood. Doing so shall renounce thy claims of Blood.

The Second Tradition:

The Domain

Thy domain is thine own concern. All others owe thee respect while in it. None may challenge thy word while in thy domain.

The Third Tradition:

The Progeny

Thou shall sire another only with the permission of thine elder. If thou createst another without thine elder's leave, both thee and thy progeny shall be slain

The Fourth Tradition:

The Accounting

Those thou create are thine own childer. Until thy progeny shall be released, thou shall command them in all things. Their sins are thine to endure.

The Fifth Tradition:

Hospitality

Honour one another's domain. When thou comest to a foreign city, thou shall present thyself to the one who ruleth there. Without the word of acceptance, thou art nothing.

The Sixth Tradition:

Destruction

Thou art forbidden to destroy another of thy kind. The right of destruction belongeth only to thine elder. Only the eldest among thee shall call the blood hunt.

The Camarilla was ultimately a global structure on top of a collection of feudal domains. It was headed by members of the Inner Circle, sometimes known as the Council of Primogen. It was this group of people who were responsible for defining policy and smoothing out any inter-clan grievances. It was this group of people that were now gathered around the table.

There was the Kingship Clan (Ventrue) who, as nominal leaders, claim to have created and supported the organization of vampires as a whole since the idea’s inception. The clan suspects its founder was slain by a member of the Brujah clan which is a great blow to its pride. Ventrue actively involve themselves in every aspect of vampiric society, in which they exercise their considerable influence over the doings of humans as well. Though well organized, rumours of dark mysteries and slumbering ancients sometimes slip out from under the Ventrue’s austere facade. Riordan stood as Ventrue primogen, tall with a startlingly handsome face and long dark curly hair. He had piercing stone grey eyes that gave him a look of authority. He’d lived thirty human years before he was embraced and had now clocked six hundred years as a vampire.

The Learned Clan (Brujah) were once philosopher kings of Mesopotamia, Persia and Babylon and collected lore and knowledge from around the world. In their pursuit of freedom, they killed their founder and were cast out. As a result, they were now viewed as nothing more than spoiled childer who had no sense of pride or history. As Brujah primogen, Mistress Cara was true to her clan’s perceived depth of worldwide knowledge, even now a conceited look occupying her freckled face. Her golden brown hair was tied up in a bun and at forty years old, she was the oldest, at least in human terms but her embrace had only occurred four hundred and thirty eight years ago.

The Clan of the Beast (Gangrel) were feral vampires and possessed disturbing animalistic tendencies. There were whispers of its founder having been a barbarian and for this reason, Gangrel often embraced outsiders. Aloof and savage, Gangrel were often tragic individuals and believed that independence would be better than their nominal involvement with the Prince, thus their continued membership in loyalty to the Camarilla is uncertain. Their primogen was Ivan Popovsky, a once Russian czar. He was an outspoken fellow, with a thick red beard matching his thick mop of hair and seemed to like the flashy look, even now decked in gold neck chains and rings to go with his shimmering dark leather suit. He was thirty four human years and six hundred and forty vampiric.

Called the Moon Clan (Malkavian) because of every member being afflicted with madness and being slaves to their debilitating lunacy, the Malkavian had suffered throughout history and continued to do so. It was rumoured that their founder committed some heinous crime and was cursed, as were his descendants, with insanity. Alternately feared for their bizarre behaviour and sought out for their even more bizarre insight, the Malkavian have historically been fragmented and disorganized and the vampire community questions – and fears – the possible future of the lunatic clan. True to clan lore, their primogen – Edgar White – had a face as ashen white as they came, with eyes just as devoid of colour. His hair was twisted in all directions and he could never sit still, even now rocking back and forth ever so slightly. An English aristocrat, he seemed determined to cling on to the by-gone days, his suit crying out for a modern touch to it. He’d enjoyed twenty five human years and was now four hundred and two vampiric.

The members of the Clan of the Hidden (Nosferatu) suffer the most visible curse of all as the embrace hideously deforms them, twisting them into literal monsters. Reasons for the curse are rumoured to be because of their founder’s degeneracy and his childer’s wicked behaviour. Level-headed and calm, Nosferatu have reputations as information brokers and harvesters of secrets as their horrid appearances have forced them to perfect their mystical powers to hide, even in plain sight. Looking at their primogen now, there was no doubting that to be true. Seth had an immaculate face as if carved from marble with one side partially hidden by the flow of his dark hair. He was as quite as they came, rarely speaking or moving unless absolutely necessary. He was also twenty five human years but three hundred and fifty vampiric.

The Clan of the Rose (Toreador), claim to be the preservers of the patronage of the arts which, to some extent, is true as they claim