The Oldest Blood: A Vampire Paranormal Fantasy

by F. E. Arliss

  Remi tried to smile back, but just nodded instead. “So we’re screwed.”

  “Yep,” Georgie muttered back, then said, “I think it’s too early for booze, but I wish it wasn’t.”

  “Me too,” Remi grumped in agreement. “Though I guess we’re going to have to deal with what we’ve seen and make a decision whether we want to or not.”

  Six nodded. “Yes, but no one says we have to do it now. Let’s go shopping. Everything will be put back into perspective by eyeing some terrific designer swag.”

  For once, Remi agreed to shopping. Beauty might help. Then she’d make him take her to the Louvre for a viewing of the Dendera Zodiac. A bas relief from ancient Egypt that never ceased to calm her. Finally, they’d end with lunch at the Crillon. Then, maybe, she’d be in her right-enough-mind to make a decision.

  Saulaces did not try to contact them that day or the next. He let them have the time to process what they’d seen and determine on their own what they wanted to do about their futures.

  On day three, after a wonderful lunch at Le Meurice, they returned to the flat, poured two large glasses of Chateau d’Yquem Sauternes, and reclined onto the woven deck chairs to stare at the Parisian lights.

  “Do you know what you want to do?” Remi asked Six quietly.

  “Hmmm, I think so,” he replied, taking his time telling her what was on his mind. “As long as I never have to watch one of those birthings again, I think I’ll be ok,” he murmured, his voice shaking a little at the memory. “I’ve really enjoyed the studies. More so than anything I had in school or at the firm. If I have to be an attorney, which I do,” he added this emphasis dryly, “then I will at least find this interesting even though it’s for a clan I’m mortally afraid of.”

  “I’m glad you’re finding it interesting. I also found the studies this summer interesting. On the other hand, I realize that I’ve traded one horrible blood-thirsty kingdom for another,” Remi mused sadly. “Maybe it really is as my grandmother said and I have to accept who I am.” She sat quietly for a while.

  “She also once told me that I needed to understand that powerful women aren’t made, they’re born then molded. It was not something I wanted to hear - then or now. It doesn’t mean it isn’t true. My cousin Ethel should have been a powerful woman, but she’s not. She’s a dust mop of nothingness. Grandmother says it’s because she was born without the “warrior” gene. Which, believe it or not, is a real thing,” Remi said, raising her eyebrows in emphasis.

  “I believe you have it too,” Remi continued, wagging a finger at Six. “Gay or not, doesn’t mean you aren’t a warrior. That is where people really make mistakes with preconceptions,” she added. “Like women and gay people aren’t supposed to be warriors. We are!”

  Georgie smiled at her, and then in all honesty said, “It looks like you need to pick which blood-thirsty clan you’re going to represent.”

  “Yes, it looks that way,” Remi agreed. “My birth family is powerful, vengeful, ruthless, and motivated by nothing but money and the family dynasty.” She let that sink in for a minute, then rambled on. “The Colchi are powerful, ruthless, vengeful, and motivated by dynasty. That said, I think they want respect and honor more than they want money.”

  “If money is an issue, I can assure you they have much more than your family,” Six said, winking at her. “I looked.”

  Remi laughed, “It’s not really an issue. I have millions of my own dollars in bearer bonds that I deposited with Mr. Bemus. Believe it or not, I carried them in my luggage on the way over. They’re untraceable and I wanted to flee my family without them being able to follow.”

  Georgie nodded. “Money isn’t really an issue with me either, but I do like the idea of representing billionaires,” he added this with a waggle of eyebrows.

  “I think, for me, this all boils down to respect and honor,” Remi said quietly. “I’m not respected or honored in my own family. If I’m to represent the Colchi, I want to have both.”

  The night was silent around them except for the dim hum of traffic, always present in the city. A large flutter of moths swirled, then Saulaces appeared.

  Remi snapped with steel in her voice, “Don’t tell me you’ve been eavesdropping?”

  “Yes, I have,” Saulaces replied, no apology apparent in his voice. “I had to know what your true feelings were. Since you don’t allow me to read your thoughts, a tribute to your strength,” he added, bowing slightly from the waist, “I had to know what you were thinking.”

  “Don’t rationalize it away. You could simply have asked me,” Remi stated, her voice laced with cold iron. “Do not do it again!” The last statement came out flatly as a demand.

  “I will not,” Saulaces said, bowing once more. “I will ask for your thoughts from now on.”

  Remi nodded. Not really mollified, but willing to let it go for now.

  “You both seem to have recovered from the birthing,” Saul stated, a bit of a question in his voice.

  “The birthing was…” Six’s voice trailed off.

  “Ghastly,” Remi added simply. “Pain, loss, hunger, grief. Simply the most gut-wrenching of human emotions all in one horrific clash of death and creation!”

  “Yes,” Saulaces agreed gravely. “The Colchi are born from suffering. We do not turn those who do not know the depths of grief. We are not an attractive clan. Those who join us do so for a reason - usually the care of loved ones, or to ease the pain of illness. Even then, they must have the strength of character to bear the isolation and control the savage urges of our ancient blood. Few fall into that category.”

  Remi nodded, thinking deeply. “Do they?” she asked. “Bear the isolation and control the urges?”

  “For the most part,” Saul said, sighing. “If they cannot, they are sentenced to death and fed upon by the clan to strengthen us. Their deaths are never wasted.”

  “It is a very dark world, Saul,” Remi declared, somewhat defiantly.

  “As if you didn’t already inhabit a dark world, daughter of death,” Saul snarled back at her in impatience.

  Georgie shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “If you were listening to us, you already know what she wants,” his tone was flat and final. “Either give it to her, or let her go.”

  Saul snarled at Georgie, then slowly nodded, “You are correct. You may make a decent clan lawyer yet.”

  “I apologize,” Saul said, bending his head in supplication. “We desire you to become our queen. The clan is in agreement. We will honor you and we will respect you.” This was stated with such ringing intention that Remi believed him. She detected no force behind the statement and took comfort in the fact that he was not trying to compel her belief, but simply stating a fact.

  “Very well, I accept,” Remi agreed. Georgie took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

  “You will need to be coronated,” Saul said, impatient now to ensure her compliance.

  “I take it that will mean donning the rest of the parure?” Remi asked.

  “Yes, and swearing to uphold your duties in the best interests of the clan,” Saul added.

  “I agree. But be clear that it will not be a democracy. I will seek the advice of the elders, but I will make the final decisions. I will not be a puppet for the clan. I understand their needs, and I understand the real world. They will have to trust me, if they want me for their queen,” she stated this without any hesitation or reserve, and was shocked when Saulaces nodded in satisfaction.

  “That is the queen we want,” he said baldly. “Not some pleasant little girl. We want a Queen. A real Queen. If you accept, we accept. Be at the black castle on the night of the full moon three days hence. You will be sworn in and I will fasten the other items to your person. You will need training on how to use their power. Because power will course through you when they fasten themselves to you, body and soul, they will be yours alone and only you will be able to find out what abilities they give you. Minaur will help you learn to use and harness the parure�
��s powers. They will be different for you than they were for Kandake. Each queen has her own personal strengths that the parure enhances. You will have to find yours.” With that pragmatic statement, Saul was gone again in a swirl of moths.

  “Whoever thought they were bats?” Georgie asked musingly. “Nothing the books say is even remotely like it really is,” he added, a disgusted tone in his voice.

  Remi only nodded and swigged down the last of her wine. Slamming it down on the small table between them and flapping a hand at him for a refill. He grinned and topped them both up. “To the Queen and her lawyer,” he said, tipping his glass towards her.

  Remi clinked her glass on his and swallowed another big gulp. “To the Queen and her lawyer,” she repeated, ignoring the feeling of trepidation that hovered in the background.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Coronation

  On the night of the full moon, Remi dressed in jeans, boots and a cashmere v-necked sweater. She wore no jewelry except the ring from the parure that had already melded itself to her skin. She wasn’t putting on a show this time, she was going as herself. Whipping the huge turquoise wool coat and its massive hot pink mongolian lamb collar onto her shoulders, she preceded Georgie down the elevator to the car.

  Once again, Mr. Bemus had appeared and brought the enormous Jaguar. Jin steered it confidently through the nearly empty streets and out into the swiftly passing countryside. Before Remi was really ready, they’d turned onto the unpaved bumpy track that wound through the woods to the black castle.

  The moon appeared to sit majestically on one of the dark crenellated towers, casting weird shadows over the weedy parking area.

  Remi leapt adroitly under the spear-tipped portcullis and onto the wooden plank that led to the heavy oak door. The ancient toothless butler once again greeted them, then led them through to the windowless main gallery that connected the towers.

  As she stood on the entrance stones listening to their announced titles once again, Remi watched as a group of about a dozen elders appeared from the depths, ghosting up the antique spiral stairs from the dungeons below. They were clearly missing a few elders. Either they were watching the newborn up at the cavern, or they had been killed in the dissenting purge of the earlier attacks on her.

  Saulaces had taken the parure, once again borne by Mr. Bemus, and laid the pieces out onto a black velvet cloth on a large table that was set to one side. It was flanked by two multi-tier candelabras that glinted off the many diamonds, both black and white, in the set. The pearls in the tips of the ancient baroque cross in the center of the choker-like necklace seemed to pulse with a life of their own. The skulls that dangled at the ends of the earrings, and the one at the center of the necklace and both cuff bracelets appeared to be smiling.

  Remi checked the skull on her ring. It was, indeed, smiling. She was oddly grateful. Having seen her ring with the skull’s jaw wide in agony during the previous encounter when she was attacked and during the birthing in the cave, she disliked the feeling that it was warning her of what was to come. If it was smiling, that made her feel infinitely better.

  The ceremony this time was short and sweet. The elders promised to honor and respect her and to accede to her demands. She promised to make decisions based solely on what was best for the clan. Saulaces ran a sharpened claw over her wrist and though she winced slightly with the pain, managed to control her breathing and heart rate while each elder took a tiny sip of her dripping blood.

  Once that had finished, Saulaces quickly licked the wound closed and healed the jagged cut. Remi, while still slightly repulsed by the feel of his oddly long, cold, rough tongue, was shocked that she no longer found it as grotesquely revolting as she originally had.

  One by one he placed the items of the parure on her body. First the earrings, each appearing to actively seek the holes pierced through her lobes, were twined through her ears. Although they looked enormously heavy, they were light as air.

  Next the thick choker-like necklace, with its central cross and adjoining white-diamond pave rhombuses outlined in black diamond baguettes, was fastened around her slender throat. Within seconds the scalding fire of it melding into her skin had her twisting slightly in agony. It was over in a second, the smell of scorching skin nauseating her slightly. Georgie stepped closer, but Saulaces shook his head, making him back away.

  Each thick bracelet-cuff was strapped onto her small wrists. Remi noticed that as soon as the items were clasped together, the lever-like closures simply disappeared. The set was literally welded together and then melded into her skin. When the last cuff was snapped together, Remi felt as though an enormous tidal wave of emotion and power swept over her. She felt taller, stronger, more resolved.

  When she curtsied before the clan, it was with joy and respect. When they, one by one, came forward and kissed the ring on her finger, it didn’t even seem weird - only right.

  At the evening's close, she drank a small shot glass full of Colchi blood - one drop from every elder. Saul assured her it included the blood of the absent elders at the cavern. It tasted rank. Not that she even bothered to twitch her nose or make any sort of indication of distaste. After all, she’d had to drink an endless number of disgusting tasting gasoline-like beverages just to summon up the nerve to get to this point. A little rotten blood wasn’t going to be the worst thing she’d ever put in her mouth. She’d had to kiss her evil father and grandfather when she was little. This didn’t even compare.

  Gazing out at the dozen elders, she stated, “I am honored to be your Queen. I will ensure the Colchi’s place in the upper world and represent the clan to the utmost of my abilities. You have my word.” Her voice was different now. It rang with a strength of will she had only dreamed of before.

  With that, she turned and left. Retreating to the upper floor of the black tower where she would stay for the next two months and learn to use the powers of the parure. She could feel the difference. She could feel the power. That night she didn’t sleep, only stared at the moon.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Changes

  Twice, by the light of the full moon, Remi had risen from the bed to brush her teeth and tongue. She’d flossed, then gargled with the small bottle of mouthwash she’d brought with her. Georgie would definitely have to bring her a bigger one. Colchi blood tasted awful. Worse than awful. It had a malodorous rotten aroma that permeated her every breath and seemed to ooze from her pores. Her lungs wheezed with the miasma of rot, mold, and oddly...power. She could feel it running through her veins. What it meant, she had no idea.

  At dawn, she’d run a bath and lain in it for an hour, scrubbing her skin twice with the scented bath gel she’d brought. Washing her hair was a revelation. It had a different texture than the night before. It was thicker, coarser, but soft.

  Even slathering on her scented lotion afterwards was an experience in differences. Her skin was silkily smooth. Some of her old scars were gone. The one across her wrist where a female hound had bitten her as a child was gone, as was the one along her nose where she’d fainted and gouged herself after carrying a box of munitions just to prove to her brothers she could do it.

  Even more shocking was that the thin, weak nails she’d become used to had grown into perfect ovals. They were thick and healthy looking. She used one to dig at another - they were real, beautiful and perfectly shaped. It was freaky.

  When she finally sat down at the dressing table they’d thoughtfully provided, she was shocked at what she saw. Her short blond hair was thicker, practically glowing with health. There were no patchy or thin spots in the perfectly cropped pixie. Even weirder was that the beginnings of the dark roots that had shown yesterday morning were gone. Her hair was white-blond all over. Even the roots. It would turn out that her hair never needed dying after that - it was white-blond and that was that. It was lush, healthy and didn’t grow. It stayed perfectly coiffed in the style she’d always admired and had gotten at Georgie’s salon. A slightly tousled, ultra-hip, cutting
edge pixie that supermodels would have envied.

  Same deal went for the nails. Her toenails and fingernails were healthy, beautiful and almost looked like they’d had French manicures on them - except they didn’t. They were just perfect, like they’d been done at a salon, then didn’t change. No need to say freaky again, right?

  As the morning light began to lighten the dim room, the changes became even more evident. The old tower room had no electricity or running water until Saulaces had it renovated for her. It was round, which was a bit disorienting at first. But after they’d placed the running water up one side - it had to be piped up the exterior of the tower as there was no way to bring it in internally - with a large sink, tub and toilet placed behind heavy damask curtains, that had helped.

  The lone window, which had to be knocked out of the three-foot thick, stone tower, was triple-paned bullet-proof glass. Not to keep her in. But to keep others out. “Nice…!” Remi had thought, cringing internally, when Saulaces told her this bit of information in an offhand way.