The Oldest Blood: A Vampire Paranormal Fantasy

by F. E. Arliss

  “Why should I?” Remi asked. Her voice was steady and sincere. “What is it that makes you think I can be of help? And why should I?” she repeated.

  “You are already familiar with death,” Saulaces stated with an edge of cold iron in his voice. “You are from a family of death makers. You may not like it or agree with it, but you understand it. You wish to make reparations for the death your family wreaks around the world with the sale of arms. The Colchi will protect you from that world, because your family will pursue you,” his voice rang with certainty. “We are perhaps the only entities in the world with enough power to keep you safe from them. Help us by helping yourself.”

  With that statement, there was a cold swirl of musty air and a flutter of giant moths, and Saulaces was gone.

  Remi clung to Georgie’s hand and together they gulped down the last of their drinks, entered their suite, and locked the terrace doors behind them. Flinging the dividing pillows aside, the two crawled under the covers and clung together until an exhausted sleep dragged them both into a comforting oblivion.

  Chapter Eight

  Settling

  The next day Remi and Six drove back to Paris. After a long meeting with Four at the offices of Cleary Gottleib, it was decided that Six would move into the spare room at Remi’s new flat. They would have to face the future, however strange, together for the time being. Not that either of them felt put out by this. Remi was glad of Georgie’s company and he was delighted to have his own place away from the family. Plus, he had to admit that the entire thing was so strange and so other-worldly, that he couldn’t contain his curiosity. His grandfather reminded him that curiosity killed the cat.

  Neither could deny that they were a little afraid and glad of each other’s strength.

  Three days later, they’d had a massive shopping trip and fitted out the flat with everything they needed to live independently. Six’s closet over-flowed with clothes, while Remi had very few garments in her own line of built-in wardrobes. She wore mostly jeans and cashmere sweaters and didn’t really have much need for more than that.

  She would find that every time from then on, when she needed a particular garment for an event or meeting, somehow the right thing would simply be delivered to the door of her apartment the night before by a courier. Courtesy of Georgie’s excellent fashion sense and penchant for shopping.

  Now, on the fourth day, Remi woke agitated and a little sweaty. Soaking herself in the large claw-foot tub in her bathroom, she lay back and looked up at the blue sky through the skylight above. Today was the day she was to put on the rest of Kandake’s parure set for protection.

  They had an appointment at the bank with Aegeus Bemus and he would go with them to a special location where Remi would don the earrings, necklace, and bracelets. She felt at once honored and terrified. Doing this would change her life forever. Remi needed to ask a few more questions of Mr. Bemus and of Saulaces. What would wearing the parure do to her? She already felt that her hair, for some reason, was growing back at an alarmingly fast pace. Remi had felt sure that the opposite would be true and she’d become, once again, completely bald. How would they protect her and Georgie from becoming nothing but a snack to a mass gathering of Colchi?

  At a small gathering at the new flat, Saulaces assured her that the more senior Colchi would keep an eye on the younger, less controlled members of the clan. Remi took that to mean that they’d restrain them from eating Georgie and her alive. The parure did have powers, that might be why the ring was already causing her hair to grow. It would enhance her own innate powers, not give her different ones, according to Mr. Bemus. Saulaces explained that Colchi blood simply made you more of what you were. The jewels she would wear were imbued with that same power.

  Remi hoped that meant the set would make her smarter. Georgie, ever the kidder, snarked, “Oh no, that means you’ll end up even prettier than me.” Remi had simply rolled her eyes.

  She’d had her eyebrows microbladed on at a posh salon in New York several years before and no one even noticed they weren’t real. After sliding Kandake’s ring onto her finger, she already had an inch-worth of hair growth all over her head. Going reluctantly to the hair designer that Georgie had referred her to yesterday, she’d been sure no one would be able to do anything with an inch of hair. She’d been wrong. When Remi had stepped out of the luxurious salon, she’d had a super-short, beautifully tapered and tousled, white-blond pixie. It was adorable and accented her elegant cheek-bones and full-lips. Heads had turned as she strode back to her apartment.

  Six had assured her that a woman who was going to be wearing as much jewelry as she would don that day, needed at least some eye make-up and a bold lipstick. Together they’d purchased a tube of black mascara that had made her lashes look so long and thick they almost appeared fake, and a bright pink long-wear lip stain from Yves St. Laurent. Remi had to admit as she brushed the mascara onto her lashes and applied the fuschia lip stain, that she looked gorgeous and elegant. With the white-blond pixie, simple make-up and bright lips, she was stunning.

  When Six had unzipped the garment bag that had arrived that morning, Remi couldn’t help but feel a twist of apprehension. She’d hoped for as much skin coverage as possible. Yet the opposite had been delivered. The gown was a Grecian-style, white, one-shoulder creation made of a luxuriously draped silk. It was completely plain, but beautifully cut.

  “It makes sense that there are no embellishments,” Georgie said, musingly. “The parure will be all you need to light the place up.”

  Remi could only nod. She was, at least, grateful for the flat sandals in a gladiator style that accompanied the dress. They were embellished with small, glittering, bugle beads and as she walked the thigh-high slit of the dress opened showing the delicate sandals and her slim legs. She looked divine and she knew it. It also made sense that it was an outfit an Egyptian queen might have worn millenia ago.

  It would help if she didn’t feel quite so much like a nicely packaged Colchi-clan snack. Too bad she couldn’t wear Six’s suit. Black from head to toe, not a stitch of skin showing except his face. Men, they had all the luck!

  When Four had tried to have Georgie bring the huge Jaguar with them to the apartment, Remi had put her foot down. She didn’t like the huge car. It seemed too big, too...much. She wanted something smaller and sportier, but with enough room to be accommodating.

  Having said that to Georgie with a scowl a few days before, she was surprised when he whisked her down the elevator and out into the parking area to stand beside a small black Tesla sports car. He grinned at her and said, “Guess what? It’s armored too! How great is that! It was the smallest thing I could find that still looked like something I’d drive and had armor plating.”

  “Well it’s an improvement on the behemoth,” she said, gesturing to the enormous Jaguar still parked across from the much smaller Tesla. “It’s cute too!” she added, looking at the car’s small, low-slung sporty exterior. “I like it!”

  Six grinned. “Guess what else?” he quipped, eyes sparkling.

  Remi shrugged, “What?”

  “It comes with that guy too,” Six gestured at a slimly-wiry, nattily-suited Asian man standing not far away. “He’s the driver and bodyguard.” Lowering his voice, Six added, “I think he’s from another of the clans. I’ve seen some like him at the firm. They are such good dressers. He was sent by Saul.”

  Remi sighed, then slid into the back seat of the small Tesla when the young Asian man came forward and pulled open the door. Making sure her long turquoise coat was safely inside the footwell, the driver shut the heavy door firmly behind her. Within a splint second, he also opened Six’s door. “Did you see how fast he was?” Six whispered. “He’s like The Flash.”

  “Thank you, Sir. My name is Jin, though you may call me Flash if you so desire,” the young man said from behind the driver’s wheel. “I am honored to be your driver and guard.”

  “Bat hearing, too?” Georgie asked, grinning.

/>   “Hopefully, Sir,” Jin said, smiling and flashing a blindingly-white smile.

  “Thank you, Jin,” Remi said. “Please take us to the bank to meet with Mr. Bemus.”

  “As you wish,” Jin replied and pulled the small car into traffic smoothly.

  Six, feeling Remi’s radiating tension, said jokingly, “You know ‘as you wish’ really means ‘I love you’, right?” When she could only give him a weak smile, he took her cold hand and held it all the way to the bank.

  The Tesla pulled up out front and Remi and Six entered the ornate front entrance of the bank. Today, Remi didn’t even bother to marvel at the intricately carved, red marble pillars or the soaring stained-glass windows that adorned the far side of the lobby, filling the space with dancing multi-colored lights. She was simply too nervous.

  Aegeus Bemus came out to meet them. Once again they were escorted to the safety deposit box conference room. This time when the old man pulled the heavy box out from its wall slot, Remi was already gulping down one of the gasoline-like whiskeys she’d poured from a crystal decanter.

  Carefully, she lifted out the rest of the parure and set the pieces aside. The necklace, earrings, and bracelet were all inspected, cleaned, and then laid gently into a specially carved, rosewood carrying case with satin-lined foam indentions that had been custom created for transporting the set. Only the slot for the ring remained empty, as it now rested on Remi’s forefinger, pulsing gently in the presence of its set mates.

  Mr. Bemus preceded them from the conference room and was then flanked by an entourage of three more of the Jin’s look-alike kinsmen. As they exited a side door of the bank, two young Asian bodyguards trotted ahead to hold open the doors of a heavily armored Mercedes Benz sedan. Mr. Bemus slid in the front passenger seat and Remi and Six slid into the back. Cars in front and back of them were quickly loaded with the bodyguards and the entire three-car entourage slid slowly out into traffic and was quickly swallowed up in the hustle of daylight Paris.

  Remi was surprised when the three cars gradually exited the city and though not traveling far, were suddenly engulfed in a sea of ancient-looking forest. Winding down a long, narrow unpaved road, the cars pulled through a high, walled arch made of stones so old they were stained an unbecoming moldy-black, and bumped down a winding lane. The lane ended in a small weed-choked gravel parking lot in front of an absolutely archaic-looking castle. It wasn’t a pretty castle like you usually see in tourist attractions in France. Rather, it was old. Ugly. Small, as castles go, with only two towers, crenellated on top with round watch platforms above black-stained stone pillars.

  A large stone hall attached the two crenellated towers one to the other. That was the extent of the building - two towers connected by a windowless main building with a stepped roof.

  A heavy wrought-iron portcullis covered the only entrance and a dry, steeply-carved moat, overrun with a snarl of sharply-bristling thistles and a tangle of wild, heavily-thorned roses, guarded the rest of the periphery. It wasn’t even like something you’d see in a horror film, Remi thought irreverently. It was too small. Too ugly. Too absolutely practical. The place was designed to be defended, not for beauty or to impress anyone. Though the wild pink roses were blooming heavily and were a jarring note of perfume and beauty against the squatly-ugly castle.

  As they exited the cars, surrounded by their dark-suited guards, one by one Mr. Bemus, then Remi, then Six, were searched and allowed under the glowering spear-like tips of the portcullis. From there, they walked over a narrow, wooden plank to the thick, single door of the castle.

  An ancient dark-suited man bowed briefly at the waist and then swung the heavy door shut behind them. Remi could hear his labored breathing as he shoved on the massive oak door. Seriously, someone needed to help him. Six put his shoulder to the door and when the old man smiled at him in thanks, it was to expose toothless gums in a wide lip-flapping smile. Definitely not part of the clans. Human.

  Following behind the stiffly-moving butler, Mr. Bemus murmured in low conversation to the aged gentleman. Clearly, the two knew each other.

  Stopping at another heavy door, the butler knocked. Both Remi and Six recognized the guttural growl of Saulaces’s voice as he bade them enter.

  Remi had been giving blood every other day to a white-uniformed home nurse who brought the equipment to the flat, bled her for a few minutes, then packed the pint-sized plastic bag in a cooler, and left. Six pottered around the kitchen fixing her a protein smoothie to help her recover and watching the nurse with an eagle-eye. She supposed this would be something she’d do from now on out. So far, the nurse had been extremely gentle and the experience hadn’t been the trauma Remi usually associated with giving blood. Six had begun giving blood too, as they both assumed this was to feed the clan. Both speculated that there must be others who donated blood, or the clan was very small.

  So far, neither had the courage to ask Saulaces about the specifics of how the clan fed. Frankly, the blood donation was as far as they’d let their minds wander. Though she supposed both of them suspected that no one would voluntarily let someone sink fangs into their skin. Needles were bad enough.

  The main entrance to the castle, in one of the squat stone towers, had been lighted solely with small kerosene lanterns hung from rustic black hooks along the walls. It was very cold and damp, nor did there appear to be electricity in the castle. Why would they need it? Remi thought to herself. They didn’t need running water or electricity. Those were things humans wanted.

  Descending a narrow set of worn stone steps to a heavy black-wood door hung on enormous iron hinges, the old butler rapped on the door. The sound seemed to echo through the building. The stoop shouldered old butler took her warm coat and stepped back, leaving them alone in front of the door.

  Straightening her shoulders, Remi pulled on the one thing her family had been good for instilling in her...manners, polish, a strongly immobile facade that could project anything she chose - hiding all emotion from use by their rivals. Now, she’d use it to reassure this clan that Kandake Impundula had not chosen poorly. She, Remi Arana Hartsel, was worthy.

  Six, as though feeling her intent, also straightened his shoulders and when she glanced at him out of the side of her eyes, he was the very epitome of a confident, successful lawyer ready to serve the oldest client on Earth. Remi was proud of him. Six caught her glance, nodded his head and gave her his arm as though he was escorting her into court to meet the Queen of England. Though in truth, Kandake Impundula had had far more power than any earthly queen.

  When the doors parted, the old butler and Mr. Bemus entered first and stepped to each side. The old butler, shocking Remi a bit, seemed to grow about three inches and in a surprisingly deep voice, announced, “Remington Arana Hartsel, named successor of Queen Kandake Impundula. Escorted by George James Cox the Sixth, clan solicitor from Cleary Gottlieb.”

  A gust of sound, most of it unintelligible, blew over the two as they stepped forward. The odor of must, mold, rancid blood, and spice swirled about them. Georgie never faltered and led Remi through the doors and onto a wide stone entrance slab. Halting at the top of the stairs, they met the gazes of the Colchi clan for the first time.

  Before them, about thirty pale faces with glowing yellow eyes impaled them with gawping stares. They showed a staggering assortment of curving fangs and long claws. Highlighted by the flickering of double rows of lanterns, the sight shocked Remi into absolute stillness.

  The sudden clacking of thirty pairs of long claws, held at shoulder level, and sent into a frenzy of sound as they were clicked together, caused Remi to smile widely and genuinely. Strangely, to her, it could only be described as an unsyncopated equivalent of the classic Addams Family theme-song finger-snap. Her smile had the clan clicking faster into a near frenzy.

  Georgie, smiled stiffly back at her and stepped aside, handing her arm to Saulaces who had mounted the stone steps to her side. Six melted into the background alongside the butler and Mr. Bemus.
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  Remi’s warm smile lit upon Saulaces’s slightly shocked-looking face and widened even further. She turned back to the sea of bald heads and curtsied. For some reason, she felt completely at ease, as though this were all an act she’d put on a thousand times before. Which, oddly, she had. Cartel bosses were no different then scary, bald-headed vampires. Except perhaps this group meant her less harm. Hard to tell.

  Having gotten this far on sheer guts and acting ability, she stepped forward and down the worn stone steps. Saulaces began introducing her to the elders at the front of the group. Each deathly-cold handshake was accompanied by long inhalations of breath, as each clan member drew in her scent and lingered over the touching of her fingers. Remi knew she wouldn’t remember all the names, but she tried to place some difference with each face in a word-remembrance association game her mother had taught her and kept her focused on the moment. There was nothing like being the absolute focus of someone’s attention to ensure a positive response.