Requiem of Humanity

by Catherine Stovall

  Celeste followed Matteo to the table and waited as he opened the pages to reveal the information that had brought him railing into her bedroom with the sun barely set. His hands shook as he found his page and laid out the clues for Celeste to look over. He placed the library book on the right, Jenda’s notated copy of the prophecy in the center, and the book made from flesh and bone on the left.

  Pointing to the lines of the prophecy he explained the importance of Jenda’s notes as plainly as he could. “Look here next to the line that says, ‘In the land where Etz Chayim once stood.’ Jenda spent hours searching the library for the location of this tree. According to what she told Drew, she later went to the astral planes where she spoke to the ghost of Belle and learned that Von Sieb’s macabre journal contained some valuable secret.”

  He paused to make sure Celeste was keeping up and noticed the pain in her eyes at the mention of her creator’s name. Ignoring the torment in her features, Matteo pushed on. “Somehow, she made the connection and she was right. I spent centuries searching for a human myth when the answer has always been in our own vampire history. Lilith and Cain’s prison is the tree in the prophecy. I can feel it in my soul and I can tell by your face you can as well.”

  Celeste did not try to deny that he was correct. “I can’t believe all this time, we knew.”

  Matteo nodded, his own frustration on the point evaporating. “When Jenda died in the villa, her soul went to the land of the demons. Her body lived either by pure accident or divine intervention but her spirit traveled not the astral planes but the darker realm. Soborgne also perished inside that house and, with their deaths, we sent them to the exact place the demons would need them to be to fulfill the prophecy.”

  Celeste gasped, as she realized that they had nearly gift wrapped both girls and presented them to the demon prince. This time when her hand moved to his arm, she gripped in desperation. “Oh, Matteo. What have we done?”

  She saw the raw emotion storm in his cornflower blue eyes. “We have condemned the girls to hell. The dead cannot suffer the mark of Cain. Separated from their bodies, either one of the girls can complete the sacrifice. We have to get them back before it’s too late.”

  “I will do anything. Just tell me what is needed.” Her voice quivered with fear.

  Turning back to the books, he pointed out the carefully drawn symbols in both volumes. “Can you read Von Sieb’s writing? I have the strangest feeling that Jenda’s vision led her to find this book in the library so that we would know what to search for when we retrieved this monstrosity.”

  Celeste’s hand hovered over the page, not daring to trace her lovely fingers over the top of the dried blood and leathered flesh. The revulsion she felt showed clearly in the deep frown that tugged down the corners of her mouth as she read the words silently. She struggled in places, forcing her lips to form the syllables again and again until she knew she had found the right translation.

  Matteo waited impatiently. He could have strangled Celeste for not reading aloud or for not being quicker in her duties. He hungered for the knowledge scrawled within the pages more than he had ever ached for blood. Every endless second that ticked by was another space of time that Jenda remained in danger and the balance of power tipped a little farther in the demon’s favor.

  Midway down the page, Celeste stopped. Jerking her hand away from the page as if it might bite her, she gasped. “It’s a spell. A dark spell that will open the portal into the demon landscape. Matteo, do you know what this means? Von Sieb knew all along. He was preparing for the prophecy. This goes farther back than you and I thought. We were brought together in the blood for a reason.”

  Matteo grabbed her by the upper arms and forced her to look directly in his eyes. “Water under the bridge, old girl. Don’t let the revelation that we are all just pawns in the game shake your foundations. What this means is that we can get them back.”

  Celeste pulled herself together and ran for the chord that would summon a servant. “We must send for the Coven and the Clan.”

  Matteo caught her hand before it could signal one of the pretty boys Celeste usually had waiting on her. “I have already taken care of that. They should be arriving soon. Agi is an ally we should never underestimate. I would not be surprised if that girl was more than human.”

  Before she could reply to his odd statement, Celeste was startled by a knock on the door. One by one the remaining members of the Coven and the Clan arrived. All had taken up residence in the castle, making their arrival time more a matter of forcing themselves from the blurry eyed customs each had upon waking.

  As they waited for the last attendees, Imre and Patrick arranged the chairs and the white couch that had somehow survived Matteo’s squabble with Drew so that they circled a low glass top table. The books and the prophecy were laid out on the clear surface, so that the others could study the source of the newest discovery.

  As the group arrived, they looked at Matteo with intrigued expressions. He could feel their eyes, filled with a combination of pity and wariness, roam over him. No one trusted his current state of mentality. His volatile temper put everyone near him at risk and they couldn’t wait to see what it was that they had been summoned for even as they dreaded it.

  Celeste wasted no time once the entire Clan and Coven were seated. She quickly explained the necessary details to bring everyone up to speed. Handing the book of blood and bone to Meredith she took the place of listener. The head witch quickly scanned her golden cat’s eyes across the page. An excited tremor lay beneath the wary tone of her voice. “This is a dark spell, one that will take certain measures that you must all be willing to face. There must be a blood sacrifice from each race: witch, vampire, and human. If any of you do not have the stomach to watch people die so that we may attempt to bring Jenda out of the demon territory, speak now.”

  Her cold eyes moved from one member of the group to the next, hesitating only for as long as it took them to give their consent. Nicholi nodded his bearded head once, Chenda inclined her head slightly as she had when introduced during the first meeting of the Coven and the Clan, and Tobias’s inner voice declared his participation before Meredith’s eyes full met his. She sought out Drew and found him drawn into the chair as if he was attempting to sink through it.

  Matteo studied the young vampire closely. Every particle of his being still wanted to rip the idiot’s throat out but now he could see something else was wrong. The others might mistake the boy’s look of horror as revulsion or fear. Matteo knew differently. He had been exposed to more young vampires than his counterparts. He knew how they thought and functioned. The idea of death, in any form, excited the young. Drew looked as if he might vomit.

  Meredith’s voice piqued, “Drew, are you in or out?”

  Somehow the sound of his name drew him upward and allowed him to recover. “I’m in. If we can save her, I will do anything.”

  Patrick, Imre, Matteo, and Celeste did not need to give their consent. No one doubted that the four of them would gladly murder anyone or do anything in order to bring Jenda back. Celeste because she loved Matteo like a brother, Imre because he loved Celeste, and Patrick because he loved Jenda and because he secretly hoped there might be a way to save Soborgne as well.

  “Aye, now dat’s all been settled. Where will we be gettn’ these sacrafices?” His Irish tenor made the question sound as if he were ready to pick up a few things from the grocery store.

  The others smiled at Patrick’s easy demeanor but those smiles faded quickly when Meredith injected. “The witch is in the basement. Marguerite will serve as sacrifice. I must go prepare.”

  “Meredith.” Celeste called out to her friend as the woman drifted away. Realizing that she must look perplexed to the others, Celeste immediately stopped wringing her hands like a human woman. She detested appearing less than the ancient, stone cold vampire. “Well, now we need a vampire and a human. Any volunteers?”

  Her wicked smile proved she was joking but Matteo�
�s eyes shot toward Drew, full of premeditation. Before he could act on the fact, Patrick made a suggestion. “Why don’t me and the boyos ’ave a lil’ sport then?”

  Nicholas instantly understood what the Irish vampire was implying and his laughter rumbled through the room. “A hunting party then, comrade? The human race is full of filthy creatures that deserve to die for the crimes against their own. It should be no problem to pluck a few from the masses.”

  Imre’s dark eyes sparkled with the promise of running human prey. The docile feeders provided a wonderful service, but to hunt as a predator promised a certain savagery that was nearly taboo in the modern world. Of course, he would not be allowed to feed, but the thrill would be just the same. “We can perform the change on one and keep the other as a fleshy bag of bones.”

  “Brilliant. Choose well, for this must be done with care.” Celeste dismissed them as she moved to begin her own preparations.

  28

  Andras threw his head back and howled in victory and his minions did the same. As the monsters strained to keep themselves from the scent of the women, Jenda pulled out of the kiss. She stared into Soborgne’s black eyes, silently asking what would become of them. The strange flavor of her own blood made her slightly dizzy and a powerful thirst gripped her insides as if a vice had clamped on to her intestines.

  In answer to Jenda’s unspoken question, Soborgne smiled and took her hand. Together, they faced Andras as he lowered his head and opened his arms to embrace his conquests. Soborgne slipped her body against his right side as Jenda nestled herself against his left. The incredible heat pulsating from his naked chest drew them to caress the rippling muscles of his magnificent form.

  Working her way up from his chest to his neck, Soborgne began the seduction. Nipping playfully and caressing with her tongue, she was careful not to break the flesh. Her memory of the boiling black blood in her dream was still fresh in her mind. Jenda, more timid in her exploration, continued to caress Andras’s impressive physique. She ran her lips across the heated skin of his collarbone enjoying the sounds of pleasure that he made deep in his throat.

  Together, the girls grew bolder as they lavished the demon with their touch. Soborgne, always the leader, hooked her finger under Jenda’s chin and lifted the girl’s face until Andras could easily access her mouth. He lowered his lips to hers in a kiss that exploded with heated desire. Growing impatient, Soborgne did not let them linger. She pulled Andras’s face to hers and she teased his serpent’s tongue into her own mouth with wanton abandon.

  His grip bordered on bone crushing and his desire brought him to a frenzied state as Andras devoured the sexual fervor of the luscious young vampires. He had not expected his plan to work so perfectly. He had not counted on having them both willing to give themselves so completely. Visions of binding both females to him in a carnal embrace filled his head as another moan of ecstasy escaped his lips.

  The need to satisfy his bodily cravings rose to the point of madness as one by one the girls pulled his mouth to theirs and their hands explored his body like frenzied, fluttering birds. Andras did not realize that he now leaned against the trunk of the twisted tree, the strange hum from inside of it became just another ebbing energy melding with the passion and the triumph that rode through his bloodstream.

  Soborgne ran her fingers gently through the black feathers of Andras’s wings, savoring the mix of textures as the tips played in the downy softness and her knuckles brushed the roughened bark of the tree. With her free hand, she reached for Jenda. Pressing on the girl’s lower back, she ensured that all of her weight would rest against the powerful demon’s body.

  With a single tap to Jenda’s spine, Soborgne let her fingers curl on the center of Andras’s chest. Their knees slid, side by side, to rest between his parted thighs and then pressed into him until he was pinned between their unforgiving flesh and the ancient tree. The girls simultaneously rose to their toes, stretching to find the sweet spot on each side of his neck where the artery throbbed with passion beneath the skin.

  Andras slipped his forked tongue across Jenda’s jawbone and his hands explored the curve of their bodies with ruthless need. The feeling of their kitten-like tongues lapping at him nearly drove him to the edge. The shift of their bodies against him brought out a growl of pleasurable tension that turned to a howl of anguish as the shock of the seduction’s accumulation overtook him. Two small fangs slipped into the arteries on each side of his neck as ten talons and ten sharp claws buried themselves knuckle deep into his body.

  Boiling sludge filled Jenda’s mouth and her gag reflex lurched as it fought to expel the sludge. The burning liquid felt as if it was stripping the lining of her throat away with each swallow. The thick blood blistered her fingers as she pushed harder to lock her nails in to his abdomen and the malleable cartilage that joined his wing to his back.

  Soborgne did not hesitate to strike—she tore into Andras’s neck as he bucked and strained against her and Jenda’s attack. The nightmare had prepared her for the grotesque and painful fight that lay ahead and her awakening demon heritage spurred her on in the annihilation of her enemy. Her fingers, now tipped with demon claws, tore at his wing, ripping it from the socket. Her mission was to damage him as much as possible in the first seconds of shock before his retaliation exploded.

  Their bodies pinned him to the tree and his arms were caught so that he could not reach their pale throats. His confidence had placed him in a position of weakness and that angered him almost as much as the filthy mixed breed ripping his wings as if they were a kitten’s scratching post. In a fit of torment and rage, Andras rammed his talons through whatever body parts he could reach, seeking out bones and vital organs. Black dots floated in front of his eyes as he resisted the effects of the blood loss.

  Soborgne was the first to break away. A searing pain jerked her backward as Andras closed his fist around her spinal cord. The intolerable suffering ended quickly as he pushed his power into the gesture of crushing her delicate cartilage and bone. As her body went limp and her head fell back until her eyes stared up at the glaring red sun, her throat lay exposed. The demon prince wasted no time, used no delicacy as he tore her throat open and dropped her to the ground to focus on the new torment that Jenda inflicted.

  At the same time that he gripped Soborgne’s spine, Andras’s other hand had found its way into the underside of Jenda’s ribs. Her blood had rushed into her lungs as his talons had ripped a large section away and the combination of pain and suffocation had nearly overwhelmed her. Stopping herself from breathing, she had bitten down harder on the artery to resist the new pain that had wracked her body.

  Unable to save Soborgne without pulling away, she had pushed her hand deeper through his stomach muscles until her fingers had wrapped around the vital organs below. When Andras had twisted to bury his jaws into Soborgne’s throat, Jenda had jerked her hand out of him as hard as she could. The dripping black gore that poured from the hole and the twisted mass of pulped organs in her hand had sizzled and burned as it had dripped to the earth.

  His talon-clad hand flew at her face, intending to rip her mouth away. Instead, Jenda released the pulverized tissue and locked her fingers around his wrist seconds before the first of his deadly claws punctured her cheek. The hollow snap of the bones barely registered in Jenda’s ears as she pushed against the intense pain that threatened to overtake her. She could barely focus on the effort it took to deal the killing blow.

  As she pulled her mouth from his neck, Jenda ripped off a hunk of skin and meat and spat it on the ground. With the black blood burning its way in sticky rivulets down her face, she locked her glowing red eyes to Andras’s black and hollow orbs. She gathered her strength around her and added to it the horror of seeing Soborgne ripped and torn on the ground like road kill, the thought of Matteo watching her beheaded body die, and the fear that she had lived under ever since the first vampire had come into her life.

  Andras stopped fighting. Something in her eyes
froze him in fear. He opened his mouth and the dark muck poured forth as he called out to his minions. His voice was raw and filled with choking fluids. “End this!”

  Jenda heard the demon horde stampede forward and she knew she would soon be nothing but half-gnawed bones left to bleach beneath the crimson sun. Wielding the whirlpool of emotion as an extension of herself, she drove her fist through muscle and bone with ease. Her fingers found his heart, the feel of it beating rapidly against the palm of her hand secretly thrilling her.

  Just as the first of the demon army reached her, Jenda crushed the organ in her hand and ripped it from Andras’s chest cavity. She never saw him fall. By the time his body hit the ground next to Soborgne, she had already spun to face the mass of attacking creatures. Biting into the core, ignoring the taste of fire against her tongue, Jenda dared to drink the heart’s blood of her enemy before his brethren.

  29

  Walking the Vaci utca in the center of Budapest, the vampires and Tobias prowled the night looking for something more than the petty crooks, prostitutes, and club goers. They searched for evil, the dogged beasts of the human race. In the dangerous area, they did not have to search long or hard before a beautiful terror caught their eye. Only a trained eye or supernatural senses could have detected her for what she really was.

  Matteo’s eyes roamed the woman’s voluptuous body without pleasure, taking in the taste of death that clung to her skin. He nudged Imre and tipped his head in the girl’s direction. “Konzum lanyok.”

  In one glance, Imre noted how her nerves hummed with need like a freshly plucked guitar string. “She’s much more than konzum lanyok—a common con artist or prostitute does not stink that badly of decay. The girl has a much darker purpose here other than relieving a tourist of his money.”