by Fox Lancet
Syler feigned a jerk forward, causing Hunter to straighten in defense. Syler remained, a half-smile appearing on his irritated face.
“Not yet. Insult me again.” He scuffled forward an inch, Hunter moving back the same distance, eyeing his comrade curiously.
“I suppose ‘you suck’ will not suffice in this instance.”
Syler shook his head fanatically.
“Too bad, anything else I will have to explain like you are a child because your intellect in this world is so pathetic.”
Syler straightened, his chest filling with air. His muscles tensed before he lunged at Hunter.
“Again.” Syler shouted when Hunter dodged his attack.
“Fuck off, ass-kisser. Perhaps you should attend to your Lord’s needs upstairs rather than playing a Demon’s game down here.”
A deafening roar clawed from Syler’s throat and in a blinding attack, he had Hunter slammed into the cold concrete of the warehouse. Syler’s eyes flushed purple for the second his cohort’s head hit the wall, his skull cracking and blood spurting.
Hunter remained conscious—where a human would have instantly crumbled—and kicked the side of Syler’s knee viciously, snapping it.
“Fuuuuck--” Syler stumbled to his good knee, landing a heavy elbow into his cohort’s groin on his descent. “--yooou.”
Hunter fell with him at the blow. “You cunt!” he bellowed.
Both kneeled before the other.
Suddenly, the metal door of the warehouse crashed open, the steel banging loudly against the stone wall. Nefarion emerged, his black eyes jerking to his Elite and lighting red to make clear the situation.
“What the fuck?”
Hunter groaned, “That is a crippling area.” He knelt, cradled on his heels and leaning back against the wall with his hands cupping his groin. Blood smeared the concrete above him and dripped down the wall behind his resting head.
Syler regarded him with a wicked sneer, forcing his knee back into place without a grimace. “Just sparring, Lord. Things may have gotten a bit out of hand, but I believe we are done. Am I wrong, Hunter?”
His cohort’s head rocked side to side in answer and he groaned again. Syler nodded once and glanced over at his Lord. Nefarion was shirtless, the word ‘SIN’ etched across his chest in gothic lettering. His belt buckle was unlatched and chimed when he moved.
Running a tongue across swollen lips, Nefarion’s eyes bounced between the kneeling pair. “You are making a hideous amount of noise. Are you attempting to win negative attention?”
“Apologies, my Lord.” Syler bowed his head and stood, Hunter following suit a bit slower. “I regret if we have disturbed you.” The warriors lifted their chins.
“No, Saliea and I had just finished.” As if on cue, Saliea appeared in the doorway, her black eyes shining hypnotically, her cheeks rosy. She was dragging her fingers through her fine black hair. Eyeing the warriors, she tilted into the door jam, resting her body. Her eyes flickered over Hunter.
“You look accomplished.”
He smiled proudly.
“Hardly,” Syler grumbled.
Hunter’s smile fell slightly. “Like hell.”
“What of it?” Syler did not turn to look at him. Hunter opened his mouth, but Nefarion interjected:
“Enough. You both came to your knees. You best each other every time, neither one more than the other. Do not subject us to your banter.”
Hunter ground his teeth, Syler having had the last word.
“You smell pleasant, Hunter. You went and sated yourself while I was occupied, it would seem.” Nefarion hitched his belt, looking down at the action. Hunter flaked more blood from his face, the red dust collecting on the shoulder of his shirt and floating elegantly along his height to the sidewalk.
“Yes, Lord. Some of my muscles were feeling rather tight and my bloodlust was swaying my focus,” Hunter stated factually. “Among other things,” he added in a mumble.
“Very well, I trust you did so tactfully.” Nefarion stepped further on to the sidewalk and casually surveyed the dark streets.
“Of course, my Lord.”
Nefarion nodded. “Let us convene back in the warehouse. We have much to discuss, including our plans to return to the gate as well as plans to return here.”
16
Blood Loss
Kaleb’s teeth ground together, pain screaming through his nerves and coming to a pounding shriek in his head. His grip twisted and squeezed at a thickly braided rope, his eyes pinched tightly. “Is it mending yet?” he managed through a cage of teeth.
Jacob knelt beside the Seraph Prince on the floor, beside the back seat of a minivan. He cocked his head at the wound. At close inspection, it looked nothing like the knee that should have been there. It was just a mass of obliterated flesh and shards of bloodied bone fragments. He dared not touch it. Some of the tissue was sliding very slowly within the mess of the injury.
“I believe it is attempting to rebuild itself in some places. Though, my Prince, I do not know if it can completely mend from this infliction. The bones are in absolute disarray and pieces are missing.” Jacob rested his chin on his bent knee, bringing his eyes closer to the wound, staring at it intensely. Kaleb released a wordless shout.
Jacob continued, “You have lost much blood and it has not ceased in draining, though it has slowed.”
After they had retreated from the vicinity of their enemy, Jacob had stopped long enough to apply his belt to Kaleb’s thigh to keep him from losing an irreparable amount of blood. He had continued only a little further before Elijah had picked them up in the gold minivan.
Jacob sighed, his pale hair shivering over his forehead. “Elijah, do you recall the location of the hospital?”
“No,” Kaleb groaned.
“We must. You need blood. I will give you mine, but we need the proper equipment for the procedure for these bodies.” Jacob leaned away from Kaleb’s leg. He turned his head to peek over the seat in front of him. Elijah’s icy eyes met his in the rearview mirror.
“On the way to the hospital now.”
Jacob nodded once in affirmation.
“Humans will ask too many questions. They may witness my accelerated healing abilities.”
“We will conquer those issues when they arise. It is either this or die. You cannot let the Demons win.”
Kaleb’s eyes snapped open and he sat up on an elbow without any evidence of pain. He grabbed Jacob’s collar and pulled him forward.
“Do not dare allude to my failure. It cannot and will not happen. If you ever even vaguely voice anything pertaining to the Demons’ victory again, I will hand you over to the monsters myself.” He shoved him away.
Jacob glared at the floor, his lip curling. “Apologies, Prince.” He adjusted his white collar. Blood was soaked into a majority of the thin material around his torso. Some smeared across his right arm where Kaleb’s leg had dangled on their retreat. The color was not the same as their original blood. Instead, it was the hated, deep-red of Demon-blood that was somehow also the color of human blood.
“What happened?” The emergency room nurse shouted over the chaotic din of the lobby. Kaleb was propped on a wheeled bed that was being swiftly rolled down a bright and crowded hallway.
“He was hit by a vehicle that did not stop,” Jacob responded curtly.
Another nurse stared down at Kaleb in wonder. “How is he still conscious? He must be in shock with an injury like this.” Kaleb’s eyes shifted to Jacob’s. Jacob shrugged in answer.
“Sir, we’re going to have to ask you to wait in the hallway,” the first nurse claimed as they slowed after emerging from a set of double doors.
“I cannot leave his side. It is impossible. He can have no one else’s blood but mine.”
“We’ll need to verify your blood types before we can do that.”
Jacob followed the four nurses into a tight room without hearing an argument toward his presence. Elijah remained outside the door.
“Please just do as he says,” Kaleb breathed.
One of the female nurses gathered some courage after a moment and set him with a determined glare, “Alright, I don’t know what’s going on here, but you’ll need to leave now, sir, or I’m going to have to call security.”
The nervous looks of her coworkers broke from the tension between the two when Kaleb screeched and made a reluctant reach for his ravaged knee. His fingers stopped mere inches from it.
All eyes fell to his evident pain to find several tendons suddenly pulling tight around the expanded remnants of his kneecap. The hospital employees gaped, eyes frozen on the phenomenon.
“Enough then,” Kaleb growled after recovering from the jarring healing phase. He capitalized on the humans’ distraction and pulled out the pistol he had retrieved off the street before Nefarion’s arrival earlier. Unfortunately, at the time, he had not realized the Demon was carrying an even more lethal weapon.
Even with the gun drawn, it took several more moments for the humans to give him their attention. They remained stunned, almost not registering the weapon in Kaleb’s quaking hand. His cheeks had hollowed and purple rings had formed under his eyes. His breathing was shallow.
“It seems my knee will be fine, although my loss of blood is still great. Please do not force me to utilize this weapon. His blood is the only blood I can take.” Kaleb paused, swallowing with effort. He fought to keep his eyelids open. “Now, perform the transfer. Then release us without a word.”
No one moved.
Kaleb leaned forward, holding the gun toward Jacob. His hand relaxed around the black grip. Jacob stepped forward hastily. He took the gun just as Kaleb’s body went limp and fell back onto the gurney. Jacob frowned. His eyes bounced across the four hospital staff in the room.
“Elijah, enter,” he called over his shoulder, not taking his eyes from the humans who watched him dumbly. Elijah entered. “Get to work, now,” Jacob shouted, snapping the nurses out of their stupor and handing the gun to his brother.
The three Seraphs sat in the nightshade a few blocks from the hospital. They had left it an hour ago, having left the doctors involved tied and gagged in the operating room. Kaleb was up and walking, his shallow face filling with healthy contours again.
“The leaders of the Vampires arrived this morning. Rowdy has been attempting to contact me most of the day. We should meet with them. Since we cannot call on our own people, we need to create some sort of resistance. The Vampires will be able to give us that,” Elijah offered after checking his voice messages.
Kaleb nodded and the trio stood reluctantly, bodies and spirits wearied.
They had abandoned the stolen minivan, aware it had been captured on surveillance when they had arrived at the hospital.
“I will go procure another vehicle.” Elijah ran ahead, quickly out of sight.
“What is the plan when we find the enemy, Prince?” Jacob wondered once Elijah had disappeared.
“Simple. We destroy the key.”
“May I inquire why you have done away with the idea of capturing her to use her to lure Nefarion?”
A white sedan came grumbling up the street, screeching to a stop across the street from them. It was Elijah.
“I am fed up and I fear the leverage he will gain if we cannot capture her. It is more efficient to just get rid of her at this point.”
Jacob nodded once in confirmation as the two Seraphs crossed the street to enter the backseat.
Kaleb continued, “This is not our world, we need to eliminate any reason they came here.”
A tense silence filled the car as it headed west. A silence filled with a knowledge no one wanted to voice. Jacob squirmed in the leather seat and glanced out the window, watching the small, brick shops pass by.
“Now that they are here, Kaleb, I do not believe the key is all they desire.”
Kaleb’s jaw tightened and he stared out the windshield, watching the headlights gobble up the road. He knew this, but did not want to admit it, at least not yet. He knew Nefarion and once he realized what this world consisted of, he knew the Demon Lord would be enthralled.
War was dwindling on Trissana, its population diminished to a mere few species, and overrun with Demons. They needed to replenish their prey. And what better than a planet over-populated by its domineering species that was as easy to kill as stepping on bug?
* * *
“My name is Omness. This is Sedrick and Wriel. We are not the first. The first no longer live. We are but the oldest living Vampires in existence, the wisest and strongest of all our race.”
The creatures looked human enough, their skin smooth, pale, framed by long dark hair and red lips. Too perfect to be human. Kaleb did not care how they looked; who they were was given away by their palpable auras. Demons’ auras were dark, frighteningly so, whereas Vampires’ auras were slightly less opaque with a hint of blue. A color dear to Seraphs.
“My name is Kaleb. These are my brothers-in-arms, Jacob and Elijah.” He turned and indicated them. Both dipped their heads slowly, gazes never deviating from the Vampire leaders.
“We’ve been hearing rumors of a considerable threat. We’ve heard you are evidence.” The center Vampire, Omness, had jet black hair that was pulled back. He sat upon on a metal counter with one foot propped up, the other dangling carelessly. The temperature was less than thirty degrees in the giant meat locker, but Kaleb and his brothers were unaffected, uncomfortable but unaffected. He could tell the three Vampires were also impassive, that the chill did not even register with them. He assumed the place of meeting was a test. And most likely not the last one.
“Evidence?” Kaleb questioned with a scowl of confusion. “We are the victims. We are the witnesses. The message bearers warning you of a great evil that is about to claim this planet,” Kaleb declared, barely containing a snarl.
The Vampires glanced slowly to one another, small smirks of amusement appearing on their faces.
“Since you’re from ‘out of town,’ it’s clear you are unaware that we are the evil of this land.” The one to the left of Omness sat up from the wall he had been propped against; his hair dangled freely, coming to his shoulders. His name was Sedrick. The muscles of his shoulders and upper arms pressed against the material of his black t-shirt. He reminded Kaleb of a Demon in human form—strong and dark with rigid features.
“Out of town? Your own people are obviously not very intelligent informants. We are from another world. One in which the creatures who cross from it surpass the ability of every individual creature on this planet. I have seen our enemies tear through your kind like paper dolls, crush humans like decaying leaves. They crave slaughter and nothing more, need nothing more. Even if Vampires stand a chance, what of your source of life?” Jacob did not suppress his snarl as he stepped in irritation toward the three Vampires. Kaleb had not seen a Demon kill on this plane of existence yet, but Jacob had been pursued by them for days after crossing.
Finally, the one called Wriel, the female, moved. She slid from her seat on the metal counter, Omness joined her, sliding from the same perch. Already standing, Sedrick stared at Jacob carefully.
“Well, that was something we hoped to discuss.” Omness’s voice was low and cunning. “If these Demons come and you follow and you all kill our humans in your war, I see no reason we cannot feed from you.”
Before any of the Seraphs could respond, all three Vampires rushed forward. They attacked, mouths stretched wide, canines spiked and throats growling like ravenous carnivores.
The Seraphs dodged precisely. Each Vampire dashed by his target.
Elijah caught Wriel, his attacker, by her wrist and swung her to the floor. Jacob maneuvered Sedrick in a similar manner just
as Kaleb pinned Omness by the neck to the floor with his knee. The Vampires were quelled in less than five seconds, all lay on their backs beneath a Seraph, etched with bewildered stares.
“You know I considered that,” Kaleb hissed into Omness’s face. “All you had was to request and I would have granted. Your attempt at force was unnecessary and--” Kaleb glanced side to side at the other two Vampires. “--futile. As Jacob informed you, we come from another world and we are stronger and faster than any individual creature on this planet. Including Vampires. You may be faster than humans, but Seraphs are faster still.”
Before releasing him, Kaleb took a firm grip of his shirt and hefted him off the floor. “Now, let us get on with it. I am curious to see if you can live off my kind’s blood. Though, a quick fact to add to my previous statement: there are not even half as many Demons as there are humans, so they intend to eradicate at least half this planet in one fell swoop. Seraph numbers are even less than that. In other words, your overwhelming food source will be severely compromised and—if this works—its replacement extremely difficult for your kind to catch, let alone feed on.”
Omness’s jaw was set tight, the muscles beneath the skin twitching. He stared intensely into Kaleb’s eyes. Kaleb only glanced patiently from one of the Vampire’s dark eyes to the other, waiting.
“Only when we find out whether your blood can sustain us will we be able to accurately measure the state of emergency,” the reply came out in a murmur, his features remaining stark.
Kaleb stared at him for a long moment, the end of his words taking a moment to register, ‘state of emergency’ being a new foreign phrase, but he understood it.
He opened his grip, Omness’s shirt unhitching from his hand. The Vampire immediately stepped back with a snap, flattening his shirt. Then he glanced to the sides, toward Wriel and Sedrick who still remained captured by Seraphs.
Kaleb never removed his gaze from Omness.
“They will stay how they are until this is done. You will only feed to try, not to kill, and they are insurance. One more time I will remind you how swift we are. All three of you could be killed by one of us in less than ten seconds. Not enough time for you to drain me.” Kaleb paused as if he were going to speak again, but sighed contently instead. “Well, now that is out of the way, let us see what happens.” He reached an arm out, wrist up. Omness’s attention flickered to it. His eyes brightened, the darkness fading, an icy blue stare replacing them.