Call of Blood: A Novel of The Unnatural Brethren

by Silvana G Sánchez

  Ivan

  Ivan’s feet landed on the sand. Behind him, waves crashed into land in a slow hypnotic beat.

  To the naked eye, a luxurious manor lay ahead on top of a cliff. But this lavish home kept a secret. It was a prison, the place where Jiao Long had confined Alisa for whatever perverse reasons.

  The thought sunk in his mind right then—Alisa was here. He didn’t know how he felt about that. Something stirred in his stomach as it churned, it made him nauseous. But there was no time to analyze his feelings. He had to move.

  Taking advantage of the shadows, Ivan soon reached the manor’s entrance. Security cameras were installed in every wall, armed guards made their evening rounds. Gaining access to that house without being noticed would be impossible... But remember those preternatural powers? He could fly now.

  Skulking in the dense jungle, Ivan waited for a guard to walk away. And as soon as he got the chance, he moved and reached the wall. Taking a leap in midair, he flew. Ivan clawed at the wall, gaining enough momentum to make his way to the rooftop.

  Crouched like a gargoyle, he swept the grounds with a quick glance. Within a few feet he found a desolated courtyard. He made the leap and stopped before a set of crystal sliding doors. Ivan pushed them open and stepped into an extravagant round office decorated in Shanghai Art Deco style. The desk was pure Macassar wood. A Macassar screen featured wilted lotuses and a pond heron, hunted by a Chinese dragon—all engraved in gold.

  Ivan moved around the office, prying about the room. A few papers lay over the desk, the stationary heading was a winged dragon.

  “Too many dragons…” he mused, moving the papers aside.

  He stopped to scan the premises for Jiao Long’s presence. He was nowhere near the island. Good.

  Ivan moved to the fireplace, looking for any clues that would reveal Alisa’s location. The mantelpiece was Macassar as well, carved with exquisite oriental motifs.

  “You sure love your Macassar,” Ivan mused, sweeping the chimney’s mantel with his finger. “Oh and look what else we have here—yet another dragon.” His hand landed on the heavy iron sculpture. Something clicked. The sound came from the wall.

  Ivan stepped back. A narrow crevice between the chimney and the wall bled light into the room. He pushed the panel on the wall and there it was. A secret room.

  He crossed to the other side. A dark narrow corridor led to an elevator. There was a single button on the panel, Ivan pressed it and stepped inside.

  “Memories are all I have left… What good are they now?”

  Alisa’s voice grew stronger.

  The doors opened to the ruddy face of a security guard. The man’s eyes went wild with shock the minute Ivan stepped out of the elevator. The guard's quivering hands reached for the gun fastened on his right hip. But Ivan’s devilish speed outwitted his foolish intent.

  In a flash, Ivan moved behind him, wrapped one arm around his neck, and pressed enough for the guard to pass out. He then lay his body on the floor without making a sound.

  As he stepped around the guard, Ivan stopped—the man’s face had turned blue.

  “Hey, buddy… Buddy, are you okay?” he asked, kicking the man’s leg. The guard didn’t respond. “Dammit!” He hadn’t meant to kill him. It looked like his vampiric strength exceeded his expectations. It wouldn’t take long for someone to notice his absence. Ivan had to move fast.

  He followed the stone tunnel and reached a stainless steel security door. Next to it was a digital control panel with a small keyboard attached.

  Ivan turned, there was no way to move but forward. Is this it? Have I reached the end of my search? Will I find her on the other side of this door? No thought filled his heart with more grief. He leaned against the control panel and sighed.

  As he touched the panel, a series of images flashed in his mind:

  Jiao Long stood before the door. A woman joined him. He flicked open the panel’s case and entered the password on the keyboard.

  Smart8526307

  “Here goes nothing…” Ivan said, pressing the keys.

  A metallic roar echoed in the tunnel as several inner gears unhinged. Seconds later, the rumbling stopped. Ivan tried the door’s handle. It moved. He pulled it open, revealing the other side of the tunnel.

  The drastic difference between both ends unsettled him. Behind him was a raw decadent bunker. But before him, crystal chandeliers pended from a white stuccoed ceiling, and old tapestries hung on the walls. This was no longer a tunnel, but a hallway that resembled his childhood home in Winterbourne.

  Moving through this corridor was like taking a leap back to the seventeenth century. It felt wrong and made him shudder. Ivan couldn’t shake the feeling of having an imminent encounter with his father or his brother, Viktor—which would have been worse. Ironic that he should find here his sister.

  Ivan followed the carpeted hallway with slow and pensive steps. There was a room at the end of this corridor—that’s where she was.

  A few feet away from the doorway, he stopped. He took a deep breath and stretched his arms, trying to release the tension.

  Over the course of three hundred years, Ivan had often thought about this moment. But nothing could have prepared him for it. On the other side of that door, his fate awaited.

  He leaned against the door’s jamb. Oblivious to his presence, Alisa stood by an electric fireplace—so lavish that it looked like the real thing.

  She wore a wine-colored sari sewn with myriad multicolored sequins. Her long black hair rippled across her shoulders. Her kohl-rimmed blue eyes shimmered as their stare fixed on the flames.

  Ivan took in every detail of this moment. He would hold it in his heart for centuries to come. The unfathomable heartache and the pain of her betrayal instantly withered. An overwhelming need to embrace her and tell her just how much he loved her disarmed him completely.

  “Jiao Long’s taste is too old-fashioned,” he said.

  Alisa turned to discover him standing by the door. Astonished, her lips parted, and she blushed. As her eyes shimmered with oncoming tears, she hugged her arms, leaning against the wall.

  How come she didn’t run to his arms? Three hundred years of estrangement stood between them, waiting to be crushed, and she did not move an inch.

  “It reminded me of home,” she said with the hint of a smile.

  “I care little for those memories.” Ivan’s eyes fixed on her and her alone.

  “It reminded me of you,” she added.

  Well, that shut him up.

  Finally, Alisa moved towards him. Surrounded by antiques, Ivan couldn't help but reminisce of their years together: Brother and sister, confidants and kindred souls, then lovers, and later on, maker and fledgling.

  But it was all an illusion. This was not their home. This was a prison, and they had to get out of here, fast.

  “Care to come out?” he said.

  “I’d love to, but I can’t.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Alisa stopped by the door, and mirroring Ivan’s posture, she leaned against the jamb. With eyes full of longing, her hand drew closer. She reached to touch Ivan’s face when a spark flashed around her fingers. Alisa winced.

  “What’s causing this?” Ivan stepped back, scanning the doorframe for any electrical devices.

  “It’s charmed,” she said, heaving a sigh. “I can’t get out.”

  “Hmmm… You can’t get out.” Ivan smoothed his hands over the doorframe. He then slipped his hand through the doorway. “But I can get in.” Stepping into the room, he smiled.

  “Oh, Ivan! Dear Ivan!” She ran to embrace him and buried her face in his chest. “I thought you were dead!”

  Ivan wrapped his arms around her. “What?” He frowned. “Cheating death is what I do, dearest. Remember that.” His fingers gently raised her chin. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “Let’s get out of here, shall we?” he whispered.

  Alisa nodded, clearing the tears from her face.


  Ivan felt the wall, looking for a weak spot where he could pound it and possibly, tear it down.

  “The walls are lined with steel,” she said.

  “Oh, you’re right…” he said under his breath. “There must be several layers of steel and concrete behind it.” He paused. “I don’t think I can get through it fast enough.”

  Alisa smirked at his last remark. “That wretched witch, Mona Mai—she’s the one who cursed this prison cell.” She paused. “I’ve always hated witches, but Dark Magic is beyond contemptible!”

  “Dark Magic…” Ivan mused, stopping in the middle of the room. “What if…?” He reached the black tourmaline pending from his neck. “She said it would protect me against Dark Magic.”

  “What is it?”

  Ivan removed the pendant from his neck. “This talisman might be your ticket out of here. Let’s find out, shall we?” offering her the necklace.

  “No,” she said, stepping back. “I hate magic. You know that.”

  “Be that as it may…” Ivan fastened the talisman around Alisa’s neck.

  Rolling back her eyes, Alisa reached her hand through the doorway, certain that another spark would blast, but nothing happened. Again she crossed her hand up to her wrist without receiving any damage.

  Astonished, she turned. “It worked,” Alisa said.

  The power went off. Red lights flashed along the hallway along with the deafening siren of the prison ward’s alarm.

  “I must have triggered the alarm!” Alisa said.

  “No, I did.” Ivan ran to the door. “They found him.”

  “Found, whom?”

  “The guard I killed,” he replied. “We must hurry.”

  Together they ran through the tunnel, leaving the lavish corridor several feet behind. Ivan stopped short by the elevator. Someone had called it—and that someone could only be The Dragon. But for reasons that eluded his understanding, he couldn’t sense Jiao Long’s presence.

  “He’s coming,” Alisa said.

  “Let him come,” he muttered. “I’ll make him pay, once and for all.”

  “No!” she said.

  “What?” Ivan winced. “That devil kept you prisoner, Alisa! Would you intercede for him now?”

  “This is not how it ends for him,” she said, holding his arm, urging him to move. “Come on—this way!”

  “Where are we going?” Ivan asked.

  “This is a bunker,” she said. “I can think of only one way out,” turning upwards. On the tunnel’s ceiling, red, yellow, and blue pipelines marked the ventilation route.

  “The main air vent?” Ivan said with a scowl. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  “Let’s go,” she said.

  Alisa took the lead, following the pipelines to the other end of the tunnel. Within minutes, they found a maintenance door. Alisa opened it. Before them lay a long corridor. A blast door at the end was the only way forward.

  A stampede echoed in the tunnel, the noise growing louder by the second.

  “Those aren’t guards…” Ivan mused, tuning into his newly acquired abilities. “They’re vampires.”

  “We have to move!” she urged, taking his hand.

  “Stop. Right. There,” a voice said.

  Ivan turned. At least two dozen vampires filled the corridor behind them. Nothing could prevent their attack, and Source or not, they were more than he could take.

  “It’s the end of the line for you two,” another blood drinker said.

  Crouched like threatening ghouls ready to devour their very souls, the blood drinkers closed in on them baring sharp fangs and claws.

  Fearing the worst, Ivan grabbed Alisa’s wrist and pulled her behind him. “Stop!” he commanded, flashing his palm at the menacing horde.

  The vampires closest to him cringed, their faces contorted into a grimace of pain. Cries of agony rose between the blood drinkers as their skin flushed a scarlet glow. Some fell to their knees, others collapsed completely, but each and every one of them burst into flames. The flaming bodies twisted in unnatural forms, screeching and howling as they burned.

  Alisa stepped forward, contemplating the harrowing scene with widened eyes. “How did you—?”

  What have I done?

  “We have to move,” Ivan said, unable to spare another minute—in spite of the horror that crawled beneath his skin.

  Reaching the steel door, Ivan turned the five-spoke handle and opened it. Alisa hurried inside and Ivan locked the heavy door behind them.

  Heavy machineries churned and whirred in the room. A long concrete duct stretched above them with an ominous fan spinning at the end. But beyond that, Ivan caught a glimpse of the starry sky.

  “That’s our way out, I assume?” he said, turning to Alisa. “Fine. I’ll go first.”

  No matter how much his preternatural powers had increased, Ivan needed something to stop the fan’s movement. A quick glance about the room sufficed for him to find the perfect tool for his plan—a large copper pipe.

  Ivan picked up the pipe and fastened it against his back with his belt, ready to make the climb.

  “Be careful!” Alisa said.

  Wearing half a smile, Ivan turned. “Believe me, I have no intention of being reduced into vampire chunks,” he laughed off. “Wait for my signal.”

  Ivan made the climb up a rusty old ladder, stopping a few feet away from the threatening fan. He firmly gripped the pipe with one hand and then launched it into the revolving fan. The pipe struck against one of the fan’s blades, screeching a hideous sound and bounced back straight to his face.

  Thanks to his quick wit and vampiric reflexes, Ivan caught the pipe inches away from smashing his jaw. He pulled it close to his chest as he regained his balance.

  All right, Ivan. Concentrate.

  He took a deep breath. This time, he would use his vampiric abilities. As his eyes focused on the revolving fan, time froze and split into frames; he chose the frame that would allow him to launch the pipe between the blades. The copper tube reached its destination, crippling the engine’s movement until it stopped.

  “You can come up now!” he said, slipping through the fan’s large blades. He punched the steel mesh behind it, and removed a large metal grid, finally revealing his beloved evening sky.

  Ivan jumped out of the air duct and waited for Alisa. He reached for her waist and lifted her out of the duct.

  Freeing from his hold, Alisa tried to run.

  “Wait!” He grabbed Alisa’s waist and pulled her close.

  Alisa’s black wavy locks of hair dance in the ocean breeze when she realized they stood on the edge of the cliff. Before them was nothing but ocean, and miles below them, a nest of the most threatening rocks waited for their fall.

  She curled against his chest. “There’s no escape!” she howled into the roaring wind.

  “Yes, there is,” he spoke into her ear. I better be right about this. “Hold on!” Ivan tightened Alisa in his arms and took a leap into midair. His preternatural body soared in the freezing wind.

  As Ivan looked back, the island became but a speck of light in the darkness.

  Alisa snuggled under the heavy wool blanket that wrapped her shoulders. She stood before the panoramic window. Myriad pine trees dusted in snow created a beautiful winter postcard.

  Why had he brought her here—to this cabin in the mountain? It was a place remote enough from the city, a decent refuge for them to rest in comfort and perhaps even speak the words that remained untold between them.

  Ivan stood by the quarried stone fireplace. He’d started the hearth minutes ago, not because of the freezing weather, but because the fireplace’s warmth gave his mind some ease.

  Now and then, Ivan turned and studied her from afar. This was no dream. Three centuries had passed since their last meeting, and that had been a day full of sorrows. Ivan had hoped Time would have washed away those memories. But casting them off his mind would have meant losing her to oblivion, and this he could not abide.


  No words had been said between them since their arrival at the cabin. Alisa stood by the window. Motionless, she avoided him as she gathered her thoughts—which Ivan dared not read.

  He pulled a chair close to the hearth, and there he sat—who knows for how long.

  “Your fledgling, Phillip…” she whispered. “He listened.”

  “No,” Ivan said. “I listened.”

  “You?” She turned, her gaze piercing him through and through. “And, what about what you did back there? You burned them, Ivan—you flew!”

  Ivan thought of a dozen answers, but chose silence.

  With the innate stealth of a cat, Alisa moved closer. “You drank from the Source,” she said.

  “I had to do it to find you.”

  Alisa’s hands were ice cold as they landed on his. “I’m glad you did,” she said, kneeling beside him. “Jiao Long wanted the Source. He used me to get it from you…”

  He clenched his fists. “That fiend…” he muttered.

  “I’ve missed you, Ivan,” she said, her widening pupils fixed on him.

  The sound of his name on her lips aroused him. “Have you?” he whispered.

  “Mm-hmmm,” nodding. “I’ve dreamt of this moment for centuries…” Alisa’s hands cupped the sides of his face. Her kohl-rimmed eyes gleamed with desire. Her lips landed on his lips in one slow kiss.

  Trapped by her spell, Ivan moaned. He slipped his tongue into her mouth. Digging his fingers in her silky black hair, he pulled her closer, demanding more than the soft touch of her hands beneath his shirt.

  A voice echoed in the back of his mind like an incessant bell, disrupting his train of thought. The bell was a warning. And even though the memory of this forbidden kiss had stuck with him throughout centuries of loneliness and despair, tonight, it awakened more than his undying desire for her—it awakened fear.

  Beware, Ivan.

  He moved away from the chair, becoming free from her enticing embrace. And what was worse, she even had the nerve to look surprised by his reaction.

  “You left me, Alisa…” he said in the lowest of voices. “You killed him!”