by F. E. Arliss
Sometimes Georgie and Remi had lessons together. Usually the ones about history. They didn’t take notes, they just listened. Ancient Colchi would come rising out of one of the various spiral staircases, smelling of sewer and mold and tell them stories of times long past that kept them spellbound for hours. Neither could forget a word of these lessons. Sometimes Remi wondered if they were being compelled, but decided that they weren’t - the lessons were just mesmerizing.
At other times, Remi had long lessons with Saulaces about etiquette with other queens, how the clans interacted, who had what territories and control of what products and political machinations. It was mind-boggling. Colchi controlled nothing in the upper world. In the lower world, their word, which was usually neutral, was always heavily weighted. No one wanted to cross the Colchi.
The Colchi were something other. They were older, stronger, more powerful. They had far superior strength and athletic abilities. They could teleport - hence the moths, Remi learned. They could control minds, heal wounds, and literally tear a strigoi to pieces with their claws. They were practically impossible to kill as their outer skin was far more hardened than that of the strigoi. This was why the death of Kandake had been so hard for the clan to bear. It was clear she allowed her head to be taken. Otherwise, most of the blades would simply have glanced off her ancient, shield-like skin.
Georgie, on the other hand, would be engrossed in learning complex negotiating rules between the clans. There were obscure laws that had nothing to do with the world above and everything to do with clans that were created in different locations.
So far, they’d learned that there were the Empusa, a slickly-crooked clan created in ancient Italy. The clan elders were always beautiful women and Remi could well remember the woman from the bridge that had smiled at her and sent a chill of fear down her spine. They were usually good-looking, well-spoken and liked nothing more than good clothes, good food and an easy life. They controlled much of the world’s food empires.
The Lamai were a clan that had been created in what was now Russia, though when the Lamai were created, it had been known as Ruzi. That clan - tall, rough, smart, and usually without a sense of humor, controlled almost all of the world’s mining resources. They had a shark-like focus and fearsome vicious personalities. Their greatest advantage in war was that they had the ability to remain unseen until they were extremely close. Hence, they had been nicknamed, “ghosts.”
The other mining power, the Adze of Africa, often had vicious battles with the Lamai, both legal and physical, in struggles over various mines around the world - whether that be diamonds or coal - it didn’t matter. The Adze were based mainly in mid to lower Africa and were purported to spread corruption and graft to all who occupied their space.
The Shu Han, the clan that Remi had already met through Jin, her bodyguard, and through Bai Ling, their queen’s invitation to lunch, were a small clan created in ancient China. Their greatest gifts were speed, fighting ability, and neutrality. It suited them to a tee to be the neutral provider of security services to the clans.
To Remi’s surprise, there were three groups of vampires in the U.S., that were acknowledged at least. As in every population, there were many other insignificant clans that existed below the radar and didn’t really participate on the greater stage of the world.
The major clan was the Motetz Dam of New York. They were business centered and financiers for the most part. Very rich and very powerful, they included politicians and top tier tycoons from almost every sector of the economy. They seemed more of a secret society like the well known clubs of Yale’s Skull and Bones, or Georgetown’s Stewards, than the secretive clans she was learning about in other parts of the world. Even more odd, was the fact that she knew some of them from business circles in the U.S. that her family moved in. Whether that would help or hinder her cause was yet to be seen.
The two other clans that were acknowledged in the U.S. were mentioned more as examples of derisive wrongness than for their importance. The Cockytrice of Salem were a group of vampires that hid in the shadows and had almost been completely killed off during the Salem witch hunts of centuries past. They purportedly had little self-control and were easily spotted and killed. Some might still exist, but it was doubtful.
The Looradoo of New Orleans were seen as a misfit group of mixed blood, watered down vampirism that had been bolstered with the spirituality of the voodoo and a mishmash of other dark magic types of wannabes, as Saulaces had put it condescendingly.
As far as the Colchi were concerned, only the New York clan of the Motetz Dam were powerful enough to bother with. The fact that they ran most of the businesses and political offices in the States made sense to Remi.
The summer hadn’t been all about learning. Well it had, but all of it had been interesting and some of it had been fun. On the three nights of each full moon, the elders had entertained them by teleporting them to different locations around the world - Machu Picchu at night had been the highlight for Georgie. While Remi had been so enchanted by the top of the Egyptian pyramids at night that she couldn’t wait to go back.
They’d seen the North Pole, the South pole, the pampas of Argentina, the plains of the Serengeti, Petra in Jordan, the Grand Canyon (which both had to admit paled after having seen the fjords of Norway and the never ending undulating waves of the Empty Quarter’s desert vastness in Saudi Arabia), and the volcanoes of Hawaii erupting at midnight.
Remi felt it had been the most intriguing summer of her life. Georgie agreed. They both worried about the fall, when a round of social events would begin to put them in a position to be known and to assume the responsibility of representing the clan in the public eye of strigoi worldwide.
She also worried that her family would see her. Many of the clans were powerful business associates with international interests. It was only a matter of time before she ran across some of her family’s business associates. They would see how the Colchi protection withstood the vicious onslaught of the world of arms dealing.
Chapter Twelve
The Conversion Witnessed
The time had come for Remi to don the rest of the parure that Kandake had bequeathed her. If she was to accept the responsibility of representing the clan, now was the time to finalize her acceptance.
Over the summer, learning of the many struggles and heroisms of the Colchi had strengthened Remi’s feelings of wanting to aid them. When she’d said this to Saulaces, he’d immediately taken her and Georgie to a small cave in the Pyrenees and made them watch as a young, recently turned Colchi had fed. This time it was from no nicely packaged blood-bank pack that Remi had sanitarily given while sitting in a padded chair.
Young Colchi had to learn to control their urges to kill, maim and feed at will. The poor young man had been turned before their eyes - he’d begged one of the elders to do it, as he was dying slowly of a very painful cancer and wanted to make sure he could care for his aging mother and older sister who had Down’s Syndrome. The elders had voted and the young man had been accepted into the clan. One of the elders was his great-great-great grandfather, it turned out.
Remi wasn’t sure if they did the changing the old fashioned way for her sake or for the sake of the young man - in order that he understood at the deepest level what he was. She suspected both after she’d had a chance to recover from her shock, revulsion and, unaccountably, her sympathy.
The sick young man was brought into the cave and eased down upon the hard floor. No furs or mats were laid down to ease the roughness of the floor. Later, Remi would understand this, but at the time it had seemed heartless and cold.
She and Georgie were locked well back into a corner in what looked like an ancient prison cage from the Napoleonic era. Two wooden crates in the corner served as seats should they need them, and a wooden pail to one side was an unpleasant reminder that they might be in there for a while. Both had brought large bottles of water and a few protein bars at Saulaces’s recommendation.
; Both of them had been hugged briefly by Mr. Bemus and his face looked so despondent that they both instinctively knew that what was to come would change them forever. Neither changed their minds - though they later asked each other if they would have, had they known what was to happen.
Locked securely in the cage, Remi laid her coat and water on the crate at the rear of the enclosure and peered out between the bars. Georgie appeared next to her. Both had worn jeans, sweaters and hiking boots, as the trip to the remote cave had been long and rugged.
When the young man was laid on the rocky floor, Remi could feel her blood pressure rise. Saul raised his head and glared at her. “Try to control your breathing and lower your heartbeat. You will be a distraction to the young man and place yourself in far greater danger if you cannot control yourselves,” he added, jerking his head towards Georgie as well. “Get a grip on it! Both of you!”
Slowly, Remi focused on steadying her breath and allowing her heart rate to fall dramatically, as Saulaces had taught her that summer. This had been important in their lessons as being able to control the rate of their hearts would also allow them to be less easily read during negotiations. Strigoi were nothing if not attuned to the blood pumping through human bodies.
As she lowered her heart rate, Remi listened to the instructions that Saul and the elders gave to the pale and shaking young man. His many-times-removed grandfather was to make the change for the young man and the other elders were there to support both of them during the transition.
What happened in the next twelve hours was something that Remi and Georgie would never see again, but that each would never forget. Nothing was done the easy way.
Colchi were renowned for the fact that they did not bite their victims on the jugular vein or on their wrists or other carotid arteries. Their blood was too powerful and in order to make the change, they simply ripped open the chest of the recipient and bit their heart. It was horrifying and tore away any illusions that either of them might have still had over the nature of the clan they would be representing.
The young man screamed in agony as the flesh over his heart was peeled away in one long stroke of a razor sharp claw. Within a split second his ribs were broken and peeled back and his grandfather’s two-inch long incisors sunk deep into the still beating heart. The young man ceased to move within a few seconds. Blood had splattered everywhere.
When the elder reared back, the red blood dripping from his white, jagged teeth, Remi felt blackness closing in on her vision. Georgie, stronger somehow, gripped her hard and whispered, “Stay with me.”
Standing more firmly, she watched as the elder sliced the vein at his throat with his own claw then allowed his blood to spurt into the wound on the young man’s chest. After a few seconds, more blood was spurted into the unconscious man’s mouth.
The grandfather fell back, reddish-black fluid still jetting from his neck. One of the other elders fell onto the open wound and within seconds the bleeding stopped, though the stink of rotting blood still permeated the air. Remi swallowed back acrid bile. She could hear Six gulping repeatedly, undoubtedly having the same reaction.
In the meantime, Saulaces and another elder had done the same thing to the prone body on the ground. Remi had almost fainted again as she watched Saul lick the spurting wounds on the exposed heart, then crack the broken ribs back into place and seal the raggedly peeled back skin over the ribs. While Saul had been busy doing that, the other elder had knelt on the young man's shoulders with a knee pinning each of his shoulders into the hard dirt.
Saulaces stood, helped the grandfather to his feet and patted him in congratulations on the back. At the same moment the pale figure on the floor began to scream and writhe. He tried to come up off the floor, but being pinned in place by two bony knees, simply jack-knifed like an eel. All the bones in his body seemed to snap and break as he thrashed wildly.
Remi could see that his skin appeared to be melting on the exposed parts of his body. Long claws ripped through the tips of his slender fingers and he slashed wildly at the elder pinning him to the floor. They could see now why that elder was wearing what looked like a kevlar jacket and pants. Otherwise, he would have been ripped to shreds. Not a thing that he couldn’t recover from - but uncomfortable nonetheless.
Clumps of the young man’s hair began to fall in patches to the ground as he shook uncontrollably, his head wringing back and forth in what appeared to be terrible pain.
Finally, as the remaining elder took turns pinning the young Colchi to the ground, he slowly stopped writhing and instead began to cry and wail uncontrollably. Unsure what this was about, Remi felt tears coming to her own eyes. When the elder on his shoulders finally released the newborn, she soon learned the cause of his distress. Within seconds he had thrown himself at the cage she and Georgie inhabited. Long fangs dripped with saliva and his huge claws scraped madly at the bars. He was hungry. The mewling cry was from starvation! They both jerked back in panic, then lost control of their legs at the same time and sank onto the crates at the very back of the cage.
Two elders peeled him off the bars, leaving hanks of his falling brown hair stuck behind in the bars, and dragged him into the center of the blood-spattered cavern. Another human male was dragged to the center of the room. Even from a distance Remi could see that he was scared, but not making any effort to run.
“Thank you, Josiah Renee, for this sacrifice you make today. Your pain will end now and Gerard Delon will live to care for both of your families. You have our word as Colchi that they will be well cared for,” Saul intoned this while looking deeply into the young man’s eyes. She could tell he was mesmerizing Josiah.
A split second later, Gerard Delon - in his newly transformed Colchi body - was released. He fell onto Josiah Renee as though a wild beast, ripping the man's heart from his body and stuffing it into his mouth in order to capture every last drop of the madly spurting blood. The sounds of cracking bone and squelching organs, the spurting of blood and thick malodorous miasma of human waste as the dying young man fouled himself, caused Remi’s guts to rebel. She vomited into the bucket Georgie thoughtfully placed in her hands. Within seconds he followed.
None of the elders moved. It took the newborn about five minutes to suck the blood out of Josiah Renee. When he was done, he sat back on his haunches and cried in earnest, pulling the body of his friend from the cancer treatment center into his arms and rocking him back and forth while sobbing and crooning apologies. The last hanks of Gerard’s hair fell from his now bulbous bald head onto his dead friend's face - he shrieked in revolted grief, flicking it off Josiah’s now waxy, blood-spattered skin, and screamed out a long, guttural howl of prolonged anguish.
Remi couldn’t help it, she cried too. Georgie, always a softie, started sobbing as well. It was horrifying and it was heart-breaking. A new Colchi had been born. It would take him weeks in the cavern to learn to control his thirst and urges to kill. The elders would sit with him in pairs for weeks to come and train him, coach him and counsel him on his new way of life. It would not be easy - for any of them.
The young Colchi was assisted deeper into the cavern and the body of his friend was taken outside to be buried. Another hour passed until Saul came to remove them from the cave. Remi had recovered somewhat since then, but still had a hard time walking around the pools of blood and flesh that littered the cavern floor, all while trying not to breathe in the foul stench of fresh human blood, waste, and the rotted decay of thousand-year-old Colchi life fluid.
She tried not to think, but simply willed her legs to walk. They did, thanks be to Nefertiti! It took them half an hour to get back to the trailhead where the cars were parked. Jin was there with Mr. Bemus and the enormous Mercedes from the bank. Both simply opened each back door and ushered their shell-shocked passengers into the deeply padded seats. As Jin pulled out onto the narrow, forest-lined road - another route in the middle of nowhere - Mr. Bemus once again plied the two of them with hard liquor. Remi had two, as did Six, until
they both simply slumped together and slept, needing the oblivion of rest.
Chapter Thirteen
Queen or Not?
Remi didn’t really want to get out of bed the next morning, but a tray of tea and toast brought to her by Georgie, at least roused her out of sleep. They simply looked at each other, sipped their tea and said nothing for the first half an hour.
Finally, Remi said, “That was horrible. The worst thing I’ve ever seen or hope to ever see again.”
“Yes,” Georgie whispered in reply, appearing unwilling to say anything further.
“I guess the question is, do we want to proceed with what we’ve been training for?” Remi asked softly. “We don’t have to. We can stop.”
Georgie simply nodded and sipped his tea some more.
“I wish I could unsee it,” she murmured to no one in general.
“I know that can’t happen,” Georgie said, a slight smile trying to appear at the corners of his mouth. “I saw Four naked once. Can’t get the image out of my mind and it’s been years.”