Blood Queen

by David Horrocks

  Katherine clearly hadn't intended to end Louis' unlife, but that didn't matter to those whom she had once called friends. She had been cast out and left alone in a cruel world with no one to lean on for support; an experience that made her bitter and resentful. If she hadn't been treated so poorly, then she might never have become the Blood Queen and Alice would have been allowed to live out a relatively normal life. It was interesting how a series of events such as these could change the course of time and alter the world in unimaginable ways.

  There was a definite progression to Katherine's attitude during her ascent to power. Whoever she had been as a mortal had been wiped from history, her legacy a far cry from the person the Gentleman had first met in Acadia. She had worked with Shani to kill their maker in order to protect themselves, an act carried out with the best of intentions. The death of Louis had been an accident, but one with negative connotations that would alter her path forever.

  After that, there was an obvious change in the way Katherine saw other people. There was a new found confidence in the manner in which she operated, the methods she used to manipulate Alexander within his own home a huge step away from her humble origins. Now she had no qualms about killing, accepting the beast inside as part of her and feeding it at every available opportunity.

  Alice knew that there was no turning back for her old mentor; Katherine had become a monster and was too far gone to be saved. The only logical end to her story was that of her death, a permanent death from which she could never return. What Alice didn't realise was that she too had started down a similar path. The night she had consumed Alexander's blood was just the first step in what could prove to be her own fall to darkness, and feasting upon her own maker in the McKay compound had almost sealed the deal, pushing her ever closer to the edge.

  There was still a chance that Alice could resist the beast's call, but she was already balancing on the precipice, so close to the point of no return. She had started out with good intentions in mind, but somewhere along the way she had lost sight of what she was trying to achieve. All that mattered to her now was draining Katherine Louviere dry and taking the power of the Blood Queen for herself. This was the right of her rebirth. It was her destiny.

  Chapter Eighteen: Time to Cut Loose

  "Your face is unknown to the vampire hierarchy, so you may step foot in places that we cannot."

  Queen Marquette's words were spoken true. Sam was unknown to the vampire populace as a whole, with very few ever laying eyes upon him and even fewer knowing who he actually was. That was apparently true for Rahna and Max too, as the pair of them had barely crossed the city limits in all their years, having spent the majority of their existence out in the wilderness.

  The same could not be said for the old queen or her knight, as almost everyone would recognise them on sight, with only the oldest among them able to identify Vincent at a glance. Unfortunately, that was enough to make it too risky for him to wander out in the open, and so this time he was forced to stay behind. It meant that the unlikely trio were sent into Calgary without the backup of their elders, a task that could prove to be perilous in itself.

  Sam would have never expected a scouting mission to lead the group right into the heart of Calgary's nightlife, but Rahna assured him that it was all part of blending in. She claimed that getting lost within the crowd was simply part of a successful infiltration, which made some kind of sense, but it seemed as though she was more interested in blowing off steam than actually carrying out their assignment. Of course that was fine too, but it was still a misuse of their limited time within the city.

  Max seemed as though he was on edge at first, but he was trying his best to hide any signs of his unease, a feeling that Sam understood all too well. There was still a chance that they could bump into someone who recognised at least one of them, and if that ever occurred their cover would be blown and they would be placed in a considerable amount of danger. Fortunately, the chances of that happening in a place so packed full of mortals was slim to none, and so far there had been no sign of any potential threats.

  Sam had never been to a nightclub before, the atmosphere loud and erratic. He had never been much of a dancer either, too embarrassed to make a fool of himself in front of others. Watching the dance floor from the relative safety of a dark corner, he could see bodies flailing in what he could only presume to be desperate mating rituals, each person trying their best to put themselves on display.

  Of course, the majority of the patrons were so drunk or high that they couldn't keep to the rhythm of the beat and were stumbling around more than anything else. Most of them would suffer the after effects in the morning, their hangovers kicking in with a vengeance as they woke up with clouded memories full of regrets. For the moment however, their intoxicated minds were unable to comprehend the certain future in which they would experience painful sobriety. For now, the night was theirs and they planned to make the most of it, for better or for worse.

  Sam wished that he had the confidence to join in with the crowd, but he couldn't find the courage. He was brave enough to face supernatural predators and psychotic murderers, but for some reason he was still terrified of being trapped within social situations such as this. The anxiety that he felt would quickly overwhelm him, soon becoming too much to bear.

  Sam wondered if it was the small town boy inside of him that was afraid of large groups of people, or maybe it was a deeper aspect of who and what he was. Perhaps it was a part of what he had always been, long before his messy induction into the ranks of the undead. He had always felt more at home in small social circles where he was able to get a word in edgewise, not in a place where he would have to yell at the top of his lungs just to be heard. It also didn't help that his face was a hideous mess of scars and burns that would never fully heal, meaning that even now he was getting strange looks and snide comments from those who walked by.

  As Sam did his best to ignore the negativity that was being aimed in his direction, the tempo of the music changed without warning, the ebb and flow of the gathered masses upon the floor adjusting to match the steady beat. Watching from the sidelines, he longed to be one of them, living in the moment without a care in the world. Unfortunately, Sam's nights were filled with stress more often than not, and living without a care didn't seem to be something that he was capable of. Even now he was having a hard time letting go of the promises that he had made to himself, and the trials and tribulations of the future were always present within his mind. If only he could let go for just a moment, just long enough to bring some much needed sanity back into his long nights.

  It had taken a while, but Rahna and Max had finally warmed up to Sam. He no longer felt like a prisoner, instead becoming an ally and then a friend soon after. Of course, he wasn't part of their pack, but that was alright as long as he was able to fight alongside them. It wasn't hard for him to spot his new friends within the crowd, the two wolves running wild amongst the sheep, but to his surprise he found that they were behaving themselves.

  Rahna and Max were right in the thick of it, the pair fitting in seamlessly as they laughed and partied with the crowd. The wolves weren't in their element either, but they had managed to adapt, trading the woodlands for the concrete jungle without too much trouble at all. Sam was envious of their ability to enjoy themselves, wishing that he could have as much fun as they appeared to be having in that very moment. He didn't understand how they were able to do such things with seemingly little effort, when he found himself unable to even attempt them. It wasn't long before they both caught Sam staring, calling to him with massive grins on their faces as if they were having the time of their unlives.

  Beckoning Sam over with an overly enthusiastic wave of their hands, Rahna and Max tried to yell, but their voices were lost in a sea of euphoria as the crowd raised the roof with their arms held high. Sam quickly looked away and tried to act as though he hadn't even noticed them there, but it was of no use as he had already been spotted. Meanwhile they conti
nued to do everything that they could to get his attention from across the room, refusing to let him get away from them so easily. Forcing a weary sigh, Sam felt guilted into joining his friends, taking a few seconds to prepare himself before jumping into the fray.

  It wasn't an easy task for Sam to push his way out onto the dance floor, the flying elbows and unpredictable movements making it difficult to find a safe path, but he somehow managed to force his way through to where Rahna and Max were waiting. Their grins were now wider than ever, both of them clearly pleased that he had decided to join in.

  "Come on, Sam! Loosen up!" Rahna yelled, her voice barely audible over the bassline.

  "This is so freakin' awesome!" Max added, his previously high levels of tension seeming to have vanished altogether.

  The two of them let themselves go on the dance floor almost in unison, unleashing a feral part of themselves that was normally reserved for the hunt. They didn't give a damn what anyone thought of them, moving without a single hint of rhythm. Come what may, they were there to have a good time and it didn't matter how they looked or what other people thought of them. They were spontaneous in their movements, wild and fierce; far from the type to follow any predefined choreography.

  Something about their carefree attitudes inspired Sam to join in, the thought of putting himself out there no longer terrifying him in the same way that it had just a short while ago. He felt a little awkward at first, but it wasn't long before he too was jumping up and down, his arms and legs now free to do what they were supposed to.

  Sam wasn't used to letting go. His fear of what he could do if he lost control had ruled his existence for so long that he didn't think that he was able to, and yet there he was, actually enjoying himself for a change. It felt good to forget about his troubles for a little while, letting the music wash over him as he immersed himself within it. He didn't care about the laughing or the stares of those who had no influence over how he lived his life. After all, they had no idea who he was or what he had been through. In fact, they knew nothing about him other than what he looked like, and their opinions about that didn't matter one bit.

  Sam's sudden epiphany came hand in hand with a freedom unlike any other, an uplifting sensation defined by nothing but the increasing tempo, the subsequent bass drop, and his own primitive impulses. This was exactly who he was meant to be, and he had to learn to accept himself before he could truly be accepted by others.

  The next hour or so was a blur as Sam was awakened to a cathedral of the senses. He could taste the perspiration in the air, the lingering aroma of alcohol and body odour mixing with all manner of perfumes and aftershaves. The atmosphere of the club was thick with the sort of humidity that clung to the skin of the people around him. Their beads of sweat were illuminated under rows of bright lights that flashed through a full spectrum of colours. Clouds of smoke filled the room as lasers cut shapes across the ceiling, the whole place feeling as though it was attuned to the changing mood of the music.

  As the unrelenting reverberations from the speakers continued to grow in intensity, the crowd moved as one while the the DJ took them to new heights previously unimagined. None of them could even begin to guess that there were predators in their midst, brushing shoulders with them in a deadly dance of which they were completely oblivious.

  For all Sam knew there could be other vampires within the club, moving through the crowds in the same manner; ready to pounce given the opportunity. Unfortunately, their presence would remain unnoticed for as long as they willed it, especially when there was no way for him to identify such creatures in a place where the increasing amount of distractions made it difficult to concentrate. Both Rahna or Max would fare better with ears and noses that were more acute than his own, but neither of them appeared too concerned by the possibility. He knew that if he thought about it too much, paranoia would eventually set in and he might just overreact, so he did what he could to clear his mind of such thoughts; continuing to move in a way that was liberating in mind, body and spirit.

  Time within the club seemed to be drawn out inexplicably, making it feel as though the night would last for an eternity. There were no windows to speak of and no clocks showing the passage of time, which meant that the minutes and hours would disappear without a trace, never to be found again. Just as Sam was beginning to believe that it would never end, his companions ceased their endless dance and took his arms, leading him back through the gathered masses without a word. They made their way to a different part of the club, pushing out through the crowd before taking a set of stairs that led up to the second floor. The noise level was still relatively high up there on the balcony, but they were far enough above the action that they were finally able to strike up a conversation.

  Everything up there had been painted black, with the walls, railings and sticky floors all matching the monochrome aesthetics. Curved couches were dotted around the open area, surrounding tables that were filled with empty bottles and stacked glasses; the remaining liquids diluted by half melted ice cubes. Some poor fool had passed out on the chair closest to the stairwell, losing themself in a deep sleep that they were unlikely to wake up from any time soon. Another pair occupied the furthest corner, their hands roaming freely as they became a little too affectionate with each other in such a public place.

  "Easy tiger, you might catch something!" Rahna yelled in their direction, but the overly passionate couple were completely ignorant of anyone else's presence there. "Seriously, get a room!"

  Max slumped down on the couch closest to the edge of the balcony where he could overlook the dance floor below. A second later and Rahna threw herself down next to him, quickly growing bored with the lack of responses to her heckling. She leaned against the back of the overstuffed chair and kicked enough space for her feet to rest on the table, making herself at home.

  Down below, the music was still blaring, the club goers seemingly filled with a boundless supply of energy that was either fuelled by caffeine, or by whatever pills they had taken earlier that night.

  "Come on, Sammy boy, there's a ton of room!" Rahna grinned as she patted her hand on the faux leather.

  Sam accepted the invitation, his mind still racing as he perched himself on the edge nearest the aisle. The chair was surprisingly comfortable, likely a result of years of use; his backside sinking into it as it enveloped him within its well worn grasp.

  "This place is insane!" Max exclaimed as he watched the rest of the club from on high. "We should have done this sooner!"

  "It's not bad, I guess..." Rahna added as she sank backwards and became one with the chair.

  Sam wasn't quite so convinced. Sure, he had been having fun so far, but it was still hard for him to not doubt himself even now. "I wish I could drink alcohol without vomiting it back up…" He peered out at the partying mass of bodies down below, his tone adopting a hint of melancholy. "Then I would really be able to enjoy myself."

  "Oh, you can get drunk." Rahna glanced over at Sam, her smile wide and wicked as she flashed her teeth at him.

  "What?" Sam was puzzled by her response, finding his friend's words hard to believe. "How?" If what she said was true, then he needed to know more.

  Casually waving a hand in the air, Rahna looked back up at the ceiling as she leaned back even further. "If the alcohol is in their blood, you can get drunk. It's that easy."

  "Oh…" Sam sounded almost disappointed.

  "What's up?" Max turned to face them, quickly losing interest in the mortals below who continued to dance their lives away.

  Sam sighed loudly, working out the best way to describe his predicament without using the term 'Forsaken', as it was a word that other vampires often threw around and also one that he found distasteful.

  "I don't have fangs…" He finally blurted. That was apparently the best that he could do. Although, it was better not to give away too many of the details, especially when he didn't know how they would react. Renita had taken the news quite well, but she was a different sort
of monster altogether, and she was also a little more refined and well adjusted than his current companions.

  "What the fuck?!?" Rahna bolted upright, her attention now fully aimed in Sam's direction. "For real? How the hell do you survive?"

  "Blood bags." He shrugged. "And other ways that are a little less desirable. It's not easy, that's for sure."

  Max scooted a little closer to them both, his expression one of fascination. "I'll bet... Well that explains why I've never seen you feed. Do you not get hungry?"

  As if on cue, a stabbing pain shot through Sam's body as the beast inside of him sent a painful reminder of its presence. "I'm always hungry." he replied with a twitch as he fought to keep his ravenous appetite at bay.

  "We'll have to do something about that!" Rahna grinned, a hint of mischief hidden behind her dark eyes. Her own beast reared its ugly head, her features appearing almost feral for the briefest of moments.

  "Now?" Sam wasn't sure what his friend meant exactly, but he could make an educated guess. Whatever it was, he now felt as though he could trust them enough to place his own fate in their hands.

  Max shook his head, his focus drifting back to the ground floor where he spotted something of interest. "Maybe later… Our contact's here."

  "Where?" Rahna stood up and moved to lean on the railing, scanning the entire place to locate whoever her packmate had identified.

  "Down near the bar." Max replied, pointing towards an area of the club that was almost as busy as the dance floor.

  Sam hopped to his feet and made his way to the edge of the balcony to see what was going on. "Wait… We're here to meet someone?" He spotted a nervous looking man in a suit who stood out like a sore thumb, shifting awkwardly on the spot as he searched the room for either something or someone.