Blood Queen

by David Horrocks

  The man was completely out of place in his surroundings, standing there awkwardly as he was flanked on all sides by regular clubgoers who barely seemed to notice him. He was of average height, build and relatively nondescript, his jacket and pants most likely tailored as they fit his form so well. It was difficult to pick out any discerning features through the smoke, but he definitely wasn't the sort to frequent this type of establishment and was far too well dressed to attend a hangout full of undergrad students, the working class and more than a few college dropouts. Whoever he was, he was out of his depth and from how he was acting, that was something of which he was painfully aware.

  Taking a moment to observe the stranger herself, a sly smile stretched out across Rahna's face. She glanced over at Sam as she replied, her dark eyes twinkling in the changing light as she playfully punched his arm. "Really, Sammy… Did you think we were here to waste time?"

  **********

  "Let me get this straight… You want us to go out of our way to get you out of the city, but you won't even swear an oath to the rightful queen? Did I get that fucking right?!?" Rahna glared at the stranger with fury in her eyes. If there was anything that she truly hated, it was people wasting her time.

  The four of them had moved from the hustle and bustle of the night club out into the cold, trading the crowds for the peace and quiet of a winter night. Rahna had already pinned their contact against the wall of the alley, her aggressive stance ready for a violent confrontation. She had overturned a trash can as she threw the stranger against the hard bricks, the contents spilling out onto the snow. Sam moved to position himself just to her left, furthest from the main street, with Max standing on the opposite side to block all routes of escape.

  "It's not like that…" The man looked genuinely frightened, but not because of his aggressor. There was something else that had left him more terrified than being physically threatened ever could. "You have no idea what the Blood Queen will do to us; the things that she has already done!" His eyes kept searching the dark corners of the alleyway, as if he was expecting someone or something to jump out at any moment.

  "Take it easy." Max said with all the calm that he could muster, trying to reassure a man who had already lost all his sensibilities. "We're on your side in this." It was a hard sell when they were holding him against his will, but it was still worth a shot.

  The mysterious contact that they had met within the club was an average looking man. He was the type of person who you could meet on a daily basis and you would still have trouble recalling his face if anyone ever asked. His brown eyes and dark hair were as common as muck, the lack of defining features oddly disturbing. If it wasn't for his tailored black suit, they would have never been able to pick him out of the crowd.

  "We'll bring your request for asylum to Queen Marquette." Max added, wrestling control of the conversation from Rahna who was still fuming with frustration. "But first we will need some assurances..."

  The man blinked a couple of times, raising his eyebrows with a look of concern. "Assurances? ...Like what?"

  "We need to know what you can bring to the table. What can you offer us in return for our help? Also, we need proof that you're not some sort of spy or double agent." Sam had never seen Max so serious or so sure of himself. He seemed to be taking charge of the situation in a way that his packmate had so far been unable to.

  "How am I supposed to prove something like that?" the man replied with increasing exasperation, unable to move little more than his head as he was physically overpowered. It was easy to see that he was out of his element, more used to the politics of the court than dealing with rebels in the street.

  "That isn't our problem, is it?" Rahna growled, her face mere inches away from his as she bared her razor sharp fangs.

  It was Sam who spoke next, doing his best to ease the situation without getting in between them. "Just give us something that we can use and maybe we can come up with an arrangement that benefits us all. I'm sure anything you can tell us will help."

  Taking a few seconds to think things over, the well dressed stranger soon came up with an idea. He turned his head to look directly at Sam with wide eyes, as if it was the first time that he had noticed his presence there. "Well… I can tell you everything I know about the palace and its defenses."

  Max looked pleasantly surprised by the stranger's words, excitedly taking a step forward as he closed the gap. "Well that would be a start! Why didn't you mention that before?"

  "And how the hell would you know something like that?" Rahna demanded, tightening her grip on the man's suit jacket. Sam instinctively wanted to help him, but he knew that they were dealing with a former enemy and so he had to remain cautious.

  Appearing increasingly grim as if he was digging his own grave, the man gulped. "Well… I'm a guard in the palace's throne room. I see and hear everything that happens behind those walls."

  "Not a reliable one if you go around sharing all your secrets. They must have been desperate to hire the likes of you." Rahna quickly replied with a smirk, obviously proud of a witty comment that no one else found amusing in the slightest. "Why are you so quick to spill your guts?"

  The man thought about his answer long and hard before speaking, his expression that of someone who had witnessed things so terrible that he would never be able to forget. "I can't just stand by and watch her execute anyone else. I'll never forget what the Blood Queen has done during her reign, the people she has hurt… I'm not alone either. There are others who feel the same way."

  "There are others? How many we talking?" Rahna enquired as she eyed her captive with suspicion. She released her grip a little; not enough that he could try to get away, but just enough that he could move more than his neck.

  "I'm not sure…" The man shrugged. "A few, maybe. Three or four at the least. Everyone else within the court is too scared to do anything."

  Sam found it impossible to tell if the stranger was lying or being completely honest, but he at least gave the impression that his words were genuine. It was possible that he was being naive by giving the man the benefit of the doubt, but trusting people had been part of his nature for as long as he could remember.

  Max looked back at Rahna with his own brow raised. "Well that's better than none, I guess. What should we do, Rahn?" He gestured in her direction as he awaited a decision that he himself was unwilling to make.

  Rahna returned the gaze for the briefest of moments before turning her attention back to her captive. "Now that's the real question… But I don't know yet." She inclined her head to one side, looking at the man with keen curiosity. "What do we call you anyway?"

  It took a few seconds for the answer to follow, the level of trust between both parties still low. "Leon", the man finally muttered, his tone that of defeat. He had turned himself over willingly, wishing to escape from a dreadfully hopeless situation, only to find himself caught in another.

  Rahna retracted her fangs, still staring at him with an intense gaze that instilled fear. "Well, Leon… It looks like you're coming with us."

  As Rahna pulled the man away from the wall and dragged him by the arm towards the main street, Sam and Max fell in behind. They acted as escorts for a prisoner that they had never expected to capture, both of them unsure as to what would happen upon their return to the cave. The pair exchanged a glance that spoke volumes, the feeling of apprehension one that they both shared.

  The guard could either be a potential and extremely useful ally against the Blood Queen, or he could turn out to be a spy who would report back anything that he had seen or heard to his master. Either way, he would play an instrumental role in how future events would unfold; becoming a major shift in a tentative balance. In Sam's mind, it was far too large a responsibility to rest on any single person's shoulders, and he was glad that the decision didn't fall upon him.

  Chapter Nineteen: A Most Desperate Escape

  Sam raced up the stairs as fast as he could, the concrete echoing with each and every hurri
ed step. He couldn't tell how long he had been running or how far he had gone, just that he had been separated from his companions somewhere along the way. The hidden enemy had struck from the shadows, overwhelming the group while they navigated the city streets on their way home. Rahna had fled through a parking garage, drawing as many of them away as she could, while Max jumped down into the basement of a neighbouring building.

  With all other avenues of escape blocked off, Sam was left with only one direction to go, up towards the rooftops where he hoped to make a swift getaway. By the time he reached the ninth floor, he started to wonder how many there were exactly, as dozens of steps soon turned into hundreds. It wasn't long before he lost count altogether as he concentrated on keeping up his pace, now feeling more thankful than ever that he didn't need to stop to catch his breath.

  There was one flight of stairs after the next, the narrow stairwell leading ever upwards as Sam barely kept one step ahead of whoever was chasing him. He hadn't slowed down to check who the men were, nor did he try to glance back at them, as he was too frightened of stumbling to take the chance. All he could do was keep up his pace as they tried to grab at his clothing and trip him.

  Fortunately for Sam, the men's attempts to capture him had so far resulted in failure and his steady speed kept him just far enough in front to avoid being caught. Whoever they were, it was safe to assume that they were agents of the Blood Queen, or at least those seeking a reward for the capture of any agents of Renita Marquette's revolution. Either way, he didn't plan on becoming their prisoner, nor did he wish to play the part of a martyr as long as he still had a way out.

  Around the next landing Sam went, sprinting as fast as his legs would carry him. As he looked up towards the next set of stairs, he could finally see the end of his ascent in the shape of an emergency exit that spelled his freedom. With one final leap, he propelled himself up the last flight with lightning speed, bursting through the door and out into the open without a moment's hesitation.

  As Sam breached the threshold into the open air of the night, he was greeted by a chilling wind that brought with it a flurry of crisp snowflakes. The sudden change in climate didn't diminish his momentum at all as he kept on moving, out past the air conditioning units and ventilation shafts towards the waist high wall that marked the edge of the roof.

  Without a second thought, Sam woke the blood within his veins and used it to quicken his muscles even further; his velocity increasing at an astonishing rate. He had no idea what awaited him on the other side of the wall, but he didn't have the time to worry about it either. If he was lucky, there would be a building close enough to catch him and break his fall, or failing that a long and painful descent that would either hurt like hell or kill him outright. Both options beat the alternative of imprisonment, and so he decided to take a chance, silently praying that luck was on his side this time.

  Sam ran full pelt towards a pair of steel pipes that lay adjacent to the wall, using them as a springboard to vault up and over the brickwork into the great unknown. As he sailed out into the frigid air of the storm, he laid eyes upon the rooftop of the next building over and a safe landing spot only a dozen or so feet away, a place where his current trajectory was thankfully taking him. Sam soared over the empty space between the towering structures, the streets below invisible beneath a blanket of snow. Bitter winds flung icy daggers at the exposed parts of his skin, while snowflakes whipped past him at high speed. Still refusing to let up, the blizzard continued to roar around him, becoming so heavy now that he could barely see much at all as he tumbled back down to earth.

  Falling further than he wanted, but not far enough to break any bones, Sam tucked his knees up and landed in a power roll that kept his momentum going. He glanced back over his shoulder to get a look at his pursuers hoping that they had given up the chase, but they somehow kept coming, the concrete slabs cracking under their weight as they landed upon them hard. The three men were barely slowed by the fall, keeping up the pursuit as if they had performed the same feat a hundred times before. It was clear to see that they were no mere mortals as they began to close in rapidly, their dark silhouettes casting long shadows against the wintery backdrop.

  The ground was slippery underfoot, a sheet of black ice covered with a layer of fresh snow causing Sam to slide further than he intended as he tried to change direction. His sneakers struggled to find their grip as he came far too close to the building's edge for comfort, near enough to see the parked cars far below. He desperately grabbed at a nearby chimney to stop himself from going over, only just managing to catch it in time.

  Using his momentum to swing around it, Sam redirected himself towards the far end of the building as his pursuers continued to close the gap. Two of them succeeded at pulling off the same maneuver, trailing behind by just a few feet now as the third missed the chimney altogether. A panicked yell caused Sam to peer back for just a second, allowing him to catch a glimpse of the man's leather shoes as he disappeared from view; the smooth soles clearly a poor choice for such harsh conditions.

  Two versus one. The odds were already improving, but the chase wasn't over yet. If the men were fully fledged vampires, then one of them alone was more than a match for Sam and he had no wish to fall prey to either of them. All he could do was try to escape, a feat that was proving to be increasingly difficult as he too struggled to maintain a steady speed. Where the streets below were cleared and treated, the rooftops were only shovelled at best, and the lack of salt or grit were becoming quite the challenge to traverse. As Sam readied himself to leap to the next structure, his feet unfortunately refused to cooperate, causing him to lose his balance and send him toppling over the edge into the alley that divided the buildings.

  Clang!

  "Oof!" Sam exclaimed as his body struck the steel railing of the fire escape below, his arms hooking over the edge as he stopped himself from falling any further. His legs dangled off the side as he scrambled for a hand hold, the metal so cold that it was raw to the touch. He was left feeling relieved that he was no longer human, as the impact would have surely left him winded, although he could still tell that several ribs had been fractured in the process.

  Sam grimaced as he struggled to pull himself up, but he had no time to recuperate as both men leapt onto the platform next to him.

  Clang! Clang!

  He did his best to shrug off the pain as he saw the strangers clearly for the first time since the chase began. Both of them wore identical black suits like some sort of uniform, their faces oddly identical in almost every way. In fact, they looked like the spitting images of Leon, the contact they had met just a few nights prior. As unsettling as that was, Sam didn't have the luxury of dwelling on it any longer as the pair of them made their approach.

  Ducking under one of the men's arms as they tried to grapple with him, Sam barely avoided the attack as he released his grip on the railing. He simply refused to be caught by them and pushed back from the fire escape, knowing full well that he was still at least a half dozen or so stories above street level. It was better to fall and risk further injury than be captured by the enemy, although it didn't take long for him to regret his hasty decision.

  As Sam plummeted towards the hard ground beneath him, he looked up at the surprised expressions of his foes, their dark outlines seeming to shrink as he made his last ditched break for freedom. Neither figure made an attempt to follow, their heads instead vanishing back over the side of the building as he continued his swift and reckless descent.

  Crash!

  A snow covered dumpster broke Sam's fall, but not without creating a hell of a racket as he hit it like a ton of bricks.

  "Ow…" Sam groaned, trying his best to not think about anything else that might be broken.

  It took a few seconds before he could gather enough strength to move, rolling himself off the heavily dented steel of the dumpster into the pile of hard packed, trash soaked snow beneath it. As much as he wanted to lie there for a little while longer, he kn
ew that he had to get up, and it was through sheer determination alone that he managed it.

  Pushing himself into a sitting position, Sam then used the dumpster's handle to pull his injured body up the rest of the way. As he steadied himself there for a brief moment, he tried to ignore the awful grinding and snapping sensations that travelled throughout his sore arms and legs; the uncomfortable clicking of his right knee informing him that the damage would take far longer to heal than he could spare.

  Leaning forwards just enough to force himself into painful motion, Sam began to hobble towards the main street that lay a short distance down the alleyway. All he had to do was make it to the nearest taxi rank, then he could buy a ride to the edge of the city and get lost in the woods before anyone else came looking. He hoped that Rahna and Max were in a better state than he was, but they at least had an advantage that he did not. They hadn't been cursed with the thin blood of the Forsaken, which meant that they had a variety of tools and abilities at their disposal that he was sadly lacking. He had already seen what they could do and was confident enough in their skills that he believed they had made it out with their hides intact. Their chances of survival were greater than his from the get go, which meant that they were more than likely out of danger by now. At least that was one less thing for him to worry about and he could instead concentrate on his own predicament.

  Just as he was about to exit the alley onto the empty street, Sam found his path blocked by one of the men who stepped out from around the corner. He wasn't exactly sure whether it was one of the same people as before, as this one had a long coat that neither of the others had been wearing. Again their features looked almost identical, which seemed impossible, and yet there the guy was, standing face to face with him less than a foot away.

  Sam found himself wondering just how many of them there were exactly. Four? Five? Six? How would he even know if he had seen one of them before? And how could he tell them apart from the traitor who had joined their ranks not too long ago? It was an unsettling prospect that shouldn't have even been a possibility, and yet the men kept on coming. Their number seemed to increase by the minute and Sam decided that he didn’t want to know the answers to his questions, he just wanted to make it out of the city in one piece.