by F. E. Arliss
Remi could hear Mr. Bemus and Six somewhere behind her, also meeting people and chatting. Georgie was doing a wonderful job. Being a gay man in a powerful family of solicitors had probably given him the same sort of tools Remi had to survive.
As they drew to the back of the clan, the members stepping forward to meet them seemed less restrained. Remi could sense Saulaces becoming a bit more tense and she felt, rather than saw, some of the other elders begin to congregate behind them.
Before she even knew what was happening, one of the more agitated clansmen, hurtled himself towards her and ripped long claws into her exposed upper arm, then latched a set of inch-long incisors over the blood-spurting cut.
Behind her, a similar scuffle resounded. Remi didn’t scream, or cry. She simply reached over and pressed the ring with the Intaglio skull into the vampire's right eye. Screaming, he released her immediately and fell back into an enclosing group of clansmen, the socket smoking with a black oily residue that swirled upwards in a malodorous stink.
Swirling, she rushed towards Six, who was enclosed in a group of Colchi who appeared intent on pulling an enormously tall female from Six’s neck. “Release him,” Remi barked, the full force of her lung’s capacity booming the command out into the echoing chamber. The command resonated through the group, stilling almost all movement.
The woman’s eyes rolled towards Remi, and though she did not release the mouthful of fabric she had chomped onto, she did appear to falter slightly. “You will release him now, or you will face the full force of my wrath.” Remi’s voice seemed to boom through the chamber. Later, she’d wonder where the hell that voice had come from. Now, all she wanted was to get Six away from this threat.
Advancing without hesitation, Remi slapped her hand onto the back of the woman’s head and shoved. A searing stink of burning flesh was accompanied by the female’s gut-wrenching scream as she not only released Six, but fell back screaming, the skin of her bulbous head smoking with the imprint of Remi’s hand. The dark stench of burning clan flesh adding to the oily smoke swirling overhead.
Remi was shocked, but once again, the training her family had given her stood her in good stead. She simply stood, staring at the culprit and then saying calmly to Georgie, “You ok?”
“Ummm, yes. I believe so. You however, are bleeding like a sieve,” he commented slowly. “Might want to stop that.”
Remi looked down at her arm, which was seeping a line of bright red blood onto the cold stone floor. Members of the clan seemed mesmerized by it and at that moment, she realized what terrible danger she was really in.
Turning to Saulaces, she calmly held out her arm, “We might as well put this to good use, don’t you think? Just a bit for you and then seal the wound won’t you, please?”
In the blink of an eye, Saulaces had swept her back onto the entrance stone and while she gazed out at the rest of the clan, bent his head and lapped the blood off her fingers, palm, wrist and forearm. With another swipe of a bizarrely large tongue, the claw marks were sealed and healed. Remi turned to Saulaces, “Thank you.” He simply nodded, a coldly-bruising grip still wrapped around her upper arm in a firm hold.
Georgie had been escorted to the entrance slab by several of the elders and now stood behind her, face impassive.
“It has been good to meet all of you this evening,” Remi stated regally, proud of the fact that her voice did not waver or falter in any way. “I had come here this evening to accept the gift left to me by Queen Kandake Impundula. As you can see, I already wear her ring, and control its power.”
“This week Six and I have been preparing our own gift for you,” she nodded at Mr. Bemus who then signalled the old butler. The doors behind them were shoved open and three, large glass drinks dispensers like those seen at upscale events were carried in by six wiry Asian men and set upon a long table to one side of the entrance.
Even in the flickering gloom of the hall, it was evident that the dispensers held blood. Rows of champagne glasses were rolled in on silver carts and distributed on either side of the long table.
“As you can see, I have not come to you empty-handed, nor without power of my own,” Remi stated, her voice resounding now into the stillness of the chamber. “I had agreed to accept the rest of the parure bequeathed to me by Queen Kandake. However, after the events this evening, I will be taking more time to think that bequest over and to explore all the ramifications of accepting it. Please, accept my gift to you.”
With that, she whirled and stalked from the room, white grecian gown - splattered with blood - flowing like a cloud of blinding fog behind her. Georgie strode beside her and the Asian entourage that had aided Mr. Bemus with the jewels and the blood donation flashed around them. Mr. Bemus and the jewels were whisked into other cars as she and Six were tucked quickly into their own.
As the armored vehicles rolled down the dark, unpaved lane, a spine-tinglingly ominous howl of rage and pain was followed by the sickening sounds of a cacophony of growling, bone-crunching feral battle.
Remi leaned into Six’s shoulder and let the tears fall. What a terrible night. What was she doing? What were the ramifications of all this? She’d gotten herself once more into a mess of other people’s needs and expectations. Georgie whispered in her short, silky white hair, “You were magnificent.”
“So were you,” she sniffed back.
“I know,” he said, laughter in his voice as he tried unsuccessfully to sound cocky. They both used his linen handkerchief, blew their noses, and wiped their faces.
Once home, Flash escorted them up to their flat and said, “I believe you handled that far better than you know. My clan, the Shu Han, feel this outcome was better than expected. My Queen, Bei Ling, would like you to accept her invitation to lunch at the Hotel Crillon next week. She understands you may need more time than that, but has heard that you have not had the chance to take tea there since the hotel’s re-opening and she felt you would enjoy the luncheon. Please let me know in the next day or so if you feel you can accept that offer.”
“We would be happy to join her,” Remi said, looking to Six for his own small nod of agreement. “Please thank her for the invitation and let her know we will look forward to meeting her.”
“Thank you,” Jin bowed low in appreciation of her acceptance. “We have placed guards on the roof and all points of entry to the Place des Vosges and the building. You are safe.”
With that, Remi nodded good evening to the young man and closed the door. Six shoved a large glass of whiskey into her hand and they both chugged down several big gulps before exiting to tear off the evening's tattered clothing and step under hot water to wash away the events of the evening.
In the dark forests surrounding Paris, the Colchi castle was silent. The blood of the two usurpers who had dared to harm the bequeathed and her escort, dripped from walls and pooled on floors. Their corpses had been taken to the roof of each crenellated tower and impaled upon iron stakes that were not visible from the drive. When the sun rose over the horizon, their bodies would burn into ash. That ash would be scraped up the following evening, mixed with water, and then be spread as mortar onto the foundations of the black castle. There was power even in the ashes of the Colchi. It would not be wasted.
Then, before each member of the clan ghosted into the catacombs via one of the twisted wrought-iron spiral staircases, they were each given a glass of the bequeath’s blood to consume.
The narrow spiral stairs descended far below ground in the far corners of the great hall, and were dispelled to the far reaches of the Colchi territory along dungeons, service tunnels, transportation arteries, and a variety of natural caves and man-made passage-ways that threaded below the ancient city.
Saulaces handed out each champagne glass, saying nothing. They knew he was angered. Not just angered, but ashamed of the clan that had questioned their late queen’s bequest and had harmed the beautiful young woman. She had acted as regally and finely as any queen, and yet, some had tried to kil
l her in defiance of clan law. Saulaces had seen those that moved to aid the attackers, but refrained.
He’d also seen those who did nothing, and those who had stepped forward to aid her. A reckoning was coming. Before the bequeathed could be approached again, those who had opposed her or left her in harm's way would die. The Colchi would be thinned and those left standing would be loyal to the new young queen.
Saulaces had scourged his clan many times over the centuries for infractions great and small. There had never been a greater infraction than harming a bequeathed of their Queen.
The next week was one of the hardest Saulaces could remember. He killed a half-dozen of the Colchi whom he had seen advance upon Remi in the hall. Most were clan members that he had not sired, but a few were. Having to destroy one of his one blood, was hard - like killing a child. There could be no leniency. If the clan desired to honor their queen’s last wishes, the purge had to be done.
Many of the clan, who had felt the bequeathed’s kindness and had revelled in her attention and touch, were distraught and keening with grief. The ones that had felt her to be a usurper were attacked, and fighting among the clan broke out in the darkest corners of Paris and the surrounding countryside.
When the fighting was over, the clan was united in support of the human queen and a thick layer of new mortar covered the black castle.
Chapter Nine
The Decision
It took Remi several days before she could even begin to discuss what had happened at the castle with Six. He was as shocked as she was and had insisted they both go to his family’s private physician and have blood work.
So far, it showed up as normal. The only notable anomaly was that Remi had slightly elevated levels of cytokines, the satellite cells that rush to aid in repair of injuries. Other than that, they were both fine. Well, physically at least.
Each of the past three nights Georgie had come to stand in the doorway of Remi’s room in his long, satin, classic men’s paisley pajamas. She’d simply patted the pillow next to her and he’d quickly dived under the covers and she’d hugged him to her. They were both scared and traumatized. It was good to have a friend.
They were to have lunch with Bei Ling, the queen of the Shu Han clan in a couple of days and Remi was still wavering about whether to go or not. The full reality of the events at the black castle were still piling up on her and she just wasn’t sure she wanted any of this. Though everything Saulaces had said about her family spreading death and her wanting to atone for it were true.
She could return the money and the flat. She didn’t need it. Before she’d fled the New York apartment she’d transferred all of the money her grandmother had left her into an overseas account, making sure it was untraceable. None of this bequest from Kandake Impundula was anything she needed. Though Saul’s statement that her family would come for her was terrifying and possibly - actually, most likely - true.
Why had she even started this thing? Remi asked herself. She’d started it because she’d felt the very visceral connection to Kandake that the queen herself must have felt. That had never happened to Remi before. Mostly, she disliked people who tried to get intimately entwined with her. They always wanted something. Usually her family’s power or money.
Georgie had suggested they discuss things with his grandfather, Four, and Mr. Bemus. Remi agreed and after pulling on a pair of jeans, boots, and a cashmere sweater, she’d let him bundle her into the Tesla and Jin drove them to the Cox family compound just outside Paris in a secluded wood. Thank heavens it was in the opposite direction of the black castle.
This was the kind of chateau most people imagined in France: large, white, with a high mansard roof, and a round graveled drive with a fountain in the middle.
Georgie sighed as they entered through the ornate gate. “It will be good to see Mom and Grandpa,” he murmured. “Dad is always a different story.”
Remis squeezed his hand and said, “Well, you’ve made your own way and added an enormous account to the firm. He can’t say you aren’t a success now.”
“He’ll just say that Ms. Impundula’s business was already with our firm,” Georgie sighed.
“Just her last will,” Remi replied, “Now there is an enormous account with the rest of the clan and myself. It’s a lot more business than it was. He can’t dispute that. Plus, you’re my private attorney. And, I am a very important, very rich client.”
“True,” Six said, smiling slightly at her. “Why is it always so hard to get rid of our feeling of inferiority with a parent?”
“Because we want them to love us, as the world intended in the first place. If they don’t, it’s not our fault. It’s theirs. They are the unnatural ones, not us,” Remi said firmly, having debated this very question hundreds of times about her own relationships within her family. “We aren’t the broken ones, they are.”
When Remi and Six mounted the low flight of marble steps to the front door, it was whisked open by a short, dark-haired man in a dark-blue suit. His brown eyes sparkled sharply and he shook Six’s hand with true fondness. “Master Six. It is very good to see you,” he said, smiling happily at Georgie.
“Good to see you too, Juan,” Georgie added, pulling the small man into a brief hug using their clasped hands as a lever. He quickly introduced Remi saying, “This is my friend, roommate, and client, Remington Arana Hartsel.” Remi shook the man’s calloused palm and smiled. “We’re only here for tea with Mr. Bemus and Four. Are they ready?” Georgie asked.
“They are, Sir. They are in the morning room,” the small man said, gesturing with a sweep of one arm towards a door down the black and white marble-tiled hall. The inside of the chateau was beautiful and very classic. A long sweeping staircase swept up one side of the entrance, and a huge floor-to-ceiling, ornately-carved, gold baroque-era mirror reflected light from the many panes in the antique mullioned door. A small round, darkly patinated antique table held a lusciously fragrant bowl of pink peonies.
Georgie escorted her to the door of the morning room, as the small man who had greeted them slid into the shadowed obscurity of the stairs, arms folded in front of him as he kept watch.
Rapping twice on the heavy oak door, Six didn’t wait for an answer. He simply opened it and escorted Remi inside, motioning her ahead of him with one hand.
Mr. Bemus and Georgie’s grandfather, Four, awaited them in front of a low coffee table. Each sat in leather club chairs on either end of the table, leaving two love-seat type matching sofas on either side for the newly arrived guests.
Remi greeted both old men warmly, then sank into one of the love-seats and waited for someone to start the conversation. Georgie sank down beside her and without hesitation began loading up a plate of small delicacies that had been sat out on the low table before them.
Remi had no appetite, but nodded acceptance to a glass of whiskey when it was offered. She had rarely imbibed in hard liquor in her earlier life, but these days it was becoming a bit of a medicinal necessity.
“I am very sorry to have heard from Mr. Bemus about the incident at the black castle,” Four stated, concern lacing his voice. “I’m not surprised that it happened in a way. Kandake was deeply loved. Her death must have been a terrible blow for the clan. You, although her bequeathed, are her opposite. Human, white, frail and powerless, at least in the eyes of the clan at the time,” he added, well aware when Remi raised an eyebrow at him, that she’d proved she was anything but powerless during the attack.
“Mr. Bemus spoke to Saulaces and the clan elders last evening and they have reiterated their desire to have you accept Kandake’s bequest,” he added, running a hand through his snow white hair and pushing his gold, wire-rim glasses further up his nose in agitation.
“I’m unsure whether I am pleased about this or not,” Four added. “I don’t like the danger involved and I don’t want my boy embroiled in this,” he said, nodding towards Georgie.
“I’m quite able to decide for myself, Grandpa,” Georgie sta
ted indignantly.
“I know that,” Four said wearily. “I’m just stating my concern and preference. I don’t want you to be carried away by the exotic wonder of it, or be swayed by a nice apartment and friendship. Your life hangs in the balance and will change forever if you proceed with this.”
Remi, unsure whether to be impressed by the old man’s concern for Georgie; or insulted by the idea that she was a bad influence, simply sat and waited. In the silence that followed she got up and walked out into the garden with her glass of whiskey - allowing the Cox family members a moment of privacy. Georgie had to decide for himself what he wanted to do. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted to do, let alone weigh in on his decision.
Finding a small stone bench that looked out over the blossoms of the new spring garden, Remi simply admired the rows of iris and peony that ringed the small meadow. The low murmur of voices from the morning room rolled and ebbed.
Sipping the whiskey, Remi ran her mind over what Saulaces had said. All of it was true. Her family did deal death. She did want to atone. She did not want to go back to that life. If her parents came for her, would they simply take no for an answer? Probably not. They were used to getting their own way. She even believed it to be feasible that they’d kidnap her and have her followed and watched. They’d done that when she was younger. Sometimes she’d been picked up from school by suit-wearing bodyguards and escorted away from whatever school activity, party, or friend her father hadn’t deemed appropriate. So, yes, all that could happen again. They simply hadn’t found her yet.