by Wendy Nikel
“I’m ready.”
“You remember our plan?”
“Clear out the guards in the entryway, check our garlic supplies, then you take the second floor while I take the third. Kill everyone.”
“Do you always look this sexy wrapped up in chaos?” Carlos grinned.
Jules simply gave him an electrifying, evil smile.
“Of course you do.”
Jules and Carlos took their positions before the door, fingers tingling, ready to grab garlic from their holsters. Carlos gave Jules a nod, and they charged forward, pushing open the doors to the castle. As Carlos predicted, three armed guards met them, ready for war. And one of them was Maddox.
“Dammit,” Jules muttered.
The two guards to the right of Maddox brandished stakes, while he held something that looked like a common flashlight. The two men with stakes leapt toward Carlos, and Jules growled as she moved toward Maddox.
Maddox offered her a malicious grin as she approached, then flipped the switch, and turned his device on her. Jules was momentarily blinded by light before searing pain ripped through her cheek. She fell to her knees on the stone floor and clutched her face. Her skin was bubbling, as if she’d been burnt. The guard’s sadistic laugh echoed through the large room.
That motherfucker has a weapon that replicates sunlight.
In her periphery, she registered Carlos fighting the other two guards, whirling and dodging, an active syringe in each hand as if they were knives.
I have to take Maddox out, so he doesn’t go after Carlos.
With a primal scream, Jules sprinted forward, keeping her weight low. She barreled headfirst into Maddox’s stomach, sending him flying backward. As they crashed to the floor in a heap of flailing limbs, the flashlight escaped Maddox’s grip and rolled. Jules scrambled to pin him to the ground, her knees on his shoulders, but he was too strong and tossed her like a ragdoll. Jules somersaulted to recover from the throw, and syringes tumbled from her holster, loosened by the sudden movement. As Jules crouched on her haunches and gained her bearings, she saw Maddox army crawling toward the flashlight. A few moments more, and he’d be rearmed, ready to take her out.
Without another thought, Jules flew forward, unholstering a syringe. As Maddox reached the flashlight, Jules grabbed the fabric of his uniform and plunged the needle into his neck. She released the toxin and, as he bellowed, kicked the flashlight out of his grip.
Ten seconds later, the Captain of the Guard was reduced to steaming slop.
Her target annihilated, Jules ran to assist Carlos.
He’d slain one of the guards, but the other had him in a chokehold. Jules ran, slid on the floor on her hip, and stabbed the guard in his side. “Don’t mess with revolution, bitch,” she shouted as she filled the man with garlic saline. The guard cried out, then fell face first to the ground, releasing Carlos as he collapsed. He writhed and seethed as the garlic did its dirty work and rendered him nothing more than blood and guts.
Carlos remained on his hands and knees, breathing heavily. He looked up at her, his eyes gleaming. “Thank you.”
Jules helped Carlos to his feet, and together, they observed the carnage. They stood surrounded by an ocean of blood dotted with quickly dissolving body parts. “You took down Maddox. Jules, do you know what this means?”
Jules grinned. “Maybe we stand a chance? And I’m a really good fucking fighter. Who knew?”
Carlos’s blue eyes pinned Jules. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
Jules stooped to pick up a discarded syringe to save it from being swallowed by a puddle of blood. She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe a little.”
“I think you were an assassin in another life.”
Jules shrugged. “Maybe I’m an assassin in this one.”
Jules was not prepared for the scene she found in the master suite of the palace, the daily refuge of King Yanis and Queen Belinda. The lights in the bedchamber were on, burning bright, but the rulers were nowhere to be found. Instead, Lavinia sat in a velvet-tufted chair, her blonde hair glowing, her pale skin glimmering.
“What the hell is this?” Jules breathed, her knees wobbling, her brain spinning. She’d spent the last thirty minutes slaughtering every vamp in her path. While Jules’s body had been beaten to hell, she’d kept her head clear and her motivation intact. She was fighting for freedom. Slaying the royal court because there was no other option.
However, bursting into the royal bedchamber to find her vampire-sister sitting there like proud peacock was a mind fuck to say the least. Confusion coursed through Jules and her hands shook.
“Oh sister, the look on your face is everything I hoped it would be,” Lavinia said, grinning.
Jules whimpered.
“Jules,” Carlos whispered beside her. Jules jumped at the sound and then jerked her head toward him. She’d momentarily forgotten he was there. “Focus. We’re almost free. They say the final battle is always the most difficult.”
Jules gazed at him hollowly as exhaustion flooded her body. She was deathly tired. She didn’t think she had it in her to swing at curveballs this late in the game.
“Well, aren’t you just the picture-perfect couple?” Lavinia asked in a condescending tone, artfully crossing her legs.
Jules returned her gaze to her sister, who preened like a cat who’d just swallowed a canary. Carefully, she crept closer, her bloody boots dragging along stone. “Vinnie, what’s going on?” The tremors were traveling now. First, they’d overtaken her hands, and now they’d invaded her shoulders.
“And to think I considered you my sister, Jules. I took you in when you had nowhere to go. I listened to you bash my maker over and over again. I comforted you when your bloodline make you feel insecure, and how did you repay me?” Lavinia clucked her tongue.
“I don’t understand.” Jules hated how small and tight her voice sounded, but Lavinia speaking to her with a voice imbued with such disdain and hate made her vocal chords constrict painfully in her throat.
“You stole from me.” Lavinia’s voice was pure malice. “You coveted something that should’ve been mine.” She pointed a manicured fingernail at Carlos. “Him—and the throne.”
Jules looked from Lavinia’s outstretched finger to her lover and back again until recognition bloomed in her brain, dark and permanent as an ink blot. “You thought Prince Fabian was your way to… You’ve been brainwashed to think… You and Cassandra have been scheming…”
“And to think people believe you’re the smart one. You aren’t even able to finish a goddamn sentence.” Lavinia leveled her gaze at Jules. “Where’s that steel spine of yours now, lowblood?”
The slur pouring forth from Lavinia’s lips stunned Jules at first, then burned within her gut. Lavinia’s unexpected and sudden betrayal cut Jules deeply.
“Luckily, I’m nothing if not resourceful,” Lavinia continued. “When Cassandra gained favor with the court for giving you the boot, I ascended to favor with her.” Her inhaled dramatically. “Sister, the acquisition of power is the greatest high I’ve ever experienced. And once I had a taste, well, I wanted more. Being a member of the royal court wasn’t enough. Although I will admit, that small bump in status afforded Cassandra and me some lovely resources. The man we hired to follow you and Carlos after I discovered you were working together, for example.”
Jules shot Carlos a wild look.
“Cassandra and I beat you here. And you should be thankful. We’ve done your work for you.”
Jules frowned.
Lavinia examined her fingernails as if bored. “King Yanis and Queen Belinda are dead.”
This time, a half-moan that sounded like a wounded animal escaped Jules’s lips.
“I mean, it was inevitable, right? You were going to kill them.” Lavinia shrugged.
“The Republic won’t stand for this,” Carlos growled.
Lavinia chuckled. “You’ve eliminated my biggest obstacle, the royal court, the most loyal of King Yanis and Queen Belin
da’s subjects; may they rest in peace. My first order of business will be to hand-pick a new court of vampires completely devoted to me and supportive of my rule.”
“The rest of the world will turn on you,” Carlos reasoned.
“Fear is such a powerful motivator,” Lavinia sighed. “No one will dare question my authority, what with how ruthlessly I slaughtered the king, the queen, and the royal court. Yes, I’m taking credit for that.” A dreamy look overtook her features. “In fact, I may gain some key allies around the world, thanks to my… feistiness.”
“You’re nothing more than a backstabbing, opportunistic bitch!” Carlos yelled.
Lavinia bared her fangs and hissed at Carlos. Instinctively, Jules plucked two syringes from her holster and held them level with her chest.
Lavinia giggled and brought a palm to her lips. “Well, isn’t this rich.” She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward in her chair, taunting Jules with a smug smile. “Are you going to kill me now, dear sister, because I’ve threatened the liar and traitor you’ve pathetically taken on as a lover?”
The next thing Jules knew, she was airborne, sailing toward a screeching Lavinia, syringes raised over her head like daggers. But the garlic saline never made contact with its target. As Jules flew forward, Lavinia executed a defensive kick that landed expertly in Jules’s sternum, sending her lurching backward, stunned and gasping in pain. Jules’s head met the stone floor and bounced. Her vision doubled and she blinked wildly. In a panic, she realized her hands were empty. She’d lost her syringes during the fall.
As her vision refocused, Jules reeled as a new terror coalesced in her periphery. Cassandra had appeared out of the ether to descend upon a surprised and completely unprepared Carlos. Cassandra was latched onto his back, one long arm snaked around his neck in a pitiless chokehold.
“Carlos,” Jules whimpered, struggling to reactivate her flailing limbs.
But Carlos was doing fine on his own. With more speed than she thought possible, Carlos had Cassandra pinned by the throat against the wall and a syringe in hand.
Turning her attention back to her attacker, Jules watched Lavinia stamp forward to pick up one of the fallen needles. “Time for a dose of your own medicine, Jules.” Lavinia raised the syringe over her head and charged. Survival instinct kicked in, and Jules rolled to her right, narrowly escaping the point of the needle. She gathered her limbs beneath her in a crouch and felt new energy spiraling in her muscles, a much-needed dose of oh-shit-if-I-don’t-move-I’m-going-to-die.
Lavinia rose from her squatted position, snarling, her fangs exposed, her beautiful face twisted with rage. And in that moment, Jules no longer saw her vampire sister before her. She saw a monster. A savage, depraved, swaggering beast that needed to be extinguished. Jules’s fangs unsheathed and she prepared to attack.
Jules rushed forward and slapped Lavinia’s hand in a downward motion, causing her grip on the syringe to falter. The syringe plummeted to the floor, and Jules followed its trajectory, sinking to the stone and scrambling to take hold of the death serum. Her hand found the syringe, she aimed, and Jules jabbed the needle into Lavinia’s exposed ankle. Lavinia screamed in pain and tried to pull away, but Jules’s grip remained iron-tight as she released the garlic saline into Lavinia’s bloodstream. As it took effect, Lavinia’s ankle reduced to a mass of viscous jelly. Before Jules could move out of the way, Lavinia’s body disintegrated, and her liquefied parts rained down on Jules like an unholy storm.
When the slop had settled and the excitement of battle began to drain from Jules’s muscles, she let out a pained cry. “Vinnie,” she whispered. “Vinnie.” Jules’s stomach turned and she vomited.
Moments later, she felt strong hands on her shoulders. “Hey, it’s over, Jules. It’s over. Cassandra and Lavinia are gone. We’re all right.”
Jules climbed into Carlos’s lap, quaking and dazed. A few feet away, a steaming pile of viscera that had once been Cassandra bubbled and seeped. Jules held Carlos tight as if he were her anchor to the world. And then she started to cry.
Hours later, Jules leaned back against the gray brick of a high turret, watching color drain from the horizon and stars dot the night sky. Her body swirled with equal parts exhaustion, pain, sadness, and energy. Carlos had helped her bind her wounds, and she’d slept most of the day, though her rest was interrupted by violent nightmares of Lavinia, her eyes cold and dead, her lips fashioned in a hateful grimace.
Jules limped to a stony ledge and looked out over the sleeping country. Soon, the vampires of the Republic would wake to both a new and old existence. They’d stretch and rise from their coffins, unaware of the possibilities unfurling with the night. But they’d catch on quickly. Jules smiled, thinking of the moment her brethren would realize what had happened, that revolutionaries had stood up to take back the darkness.
But at what cost?
Jules closed her eyes and fought back the urge to cry.
She’d killed her sister. She’d killed Vinnie.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Carlos appeared beside her, holding a pair of champagne flutes filled to the brim with crimson blood. “How are you feeling?”
“Complicated question.” Jules accepted the proffered flute but held the glass limply at her side. “Killing the guard was easy, maybe even a little fun, but…” Jules trailed off and stared up at the night sky to gather her thoughts. “I know it wasn’t Vinnie, Carlos. Not in the end. That monster in there was something dark and ugly, something that had taken hold of her. A horrible, inexcusable byproduct of propaganda and this bullshit regime, but…”
“That doesn’t make it any easier.”
Jules took a deep breath. “No, it doesn’t.” Jules looked out over the Republic and watched lights wink on. With them, little bursts of resolve lit up within her. “But it had to be done. For them.” She gestured to the countryside. “For us.”
Standing there beside Carlos in the bloody aftermath, bruised and broken, Jules finally understood why she’d always been drawn to Vlad’s castle. It was her destiny—to plant her feet firmly on the stony terraces and rail against the oppression of the vampire race. To step over the bodies of those who’d taken up residence in a castle that once represented what it meant to be a bloodsucker.
She’d sent the first message out to the world leaders from the offices of the former Queen Belinda and King Yanis only moments after their deaths: “You’re dealing with a new regime now. And we’re coming for you, humans. Vampires weren’t meant to be locked in cages.”
Jules gave in, took a sip from her champagne flute, and moaned. “Private reserve?”
“It seemed fitting,” Carlos said. “Tomorrow, I’ll throw open the cellar and let everyone raid the reserve.” He leaned in and nuzzled her neck.
“Pretty soon, no one will have to drink blood from a bottle,” Jules mused.
“No, they’ll be free to drink direct from the vein.”
“Damn straight.”
Carlos looked out at the horizon. “Now that we have the world before us, where would you like to go first, my love?”
“San Diego,” Jules said.
“We can return to the scene of the crime.”
“Yes,” Jules said. “And this time, I’ll let you share.”
Carlos tossed his flute of blood over his shoulder, where it shattered on stone. Jules dropped her glass over the ledge and pulled him flush against her, ignoring the pain that skittered through her side. Carlos was worth it.
When she kissed him, he tasted like rainwater, the night sky, and most of all, revolution.
About Tiffany Michelle Brown
Tiffany Michelle Brown is a writer, Aikido practitioner, lovers of puns, and whisky enthusiast who lives in San Diego, California, with her ninja fiancé and two fur balls, Biscuit and Zen. She holds degrees in English and Creative Writing from the University of Arizona. Tiffany's work has been featured by Under the Gum Tree, Pen and Kink Publishing, Transmundane Press, and Shooter Literary Magazine
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ARIEL JADE
Top Five Things I Love About Vampires
Note: This is a short blog post I wrote for promoting submissions to the anthology, and I’ve included it here as a little after-anthology treat. I hope you enjoy! –Ariel
Vampires have long held our attention, and for good reason. They’re brooding, sexy, and oh-so-mysterious. What girl hasn’t sat looking out her window into the night, pining for an immortal to whisk her from the doldrums of her daily life? What boy hasn’t imagined a predator stalking him for the most delicious of nighttime romps, as he laments the staid routine he’s been born to?
Reason #1: The Secret
Yet those are only the imaginings of the less fortunate—the ones whose lives are untouched by the reality of the vampire. But I… I know the truth…
I am not the only one, but when I look at the faces surrounding me in court, the preoccupied courtesans and the over-hopeful daughters, I smile inside to think I hold a secret many don’t. I have been chosen by an immortal as a possible mate, and if I bide my time long enough, I, too, will gain immortality and be born into a world beyond any wild imagining.
Reason #2: The Exquisite Pain
For the uninitiated, the bite of the vampire frightens. For those who have felt teeth sink into our flesh, we know that the pain lasts for an instant, but the intoxication lasts for days. The first time my beloved Octavian woke me in my bedchambers, my fear was all-consuming. But once he marked me as his, I floated as if carried by miniature, unseen dirigibles for a full week.
To be bitten again is like coming home.
Reason #3: Their Scent
Octavian smells like my childhood: the sage and burning leaves of our country home, a whiff of citrus perfume my mother wore before she passed away, the must of an old book from Father’s library. But underneath it all, he smells like Octavian, a scent I detect as soon as he sets foot into our mansion. No matter where I am—entertaining a minor noble from the north or sitting at the dinner table with Father and my sisters—I will excuse myself to meet my vampire for what I know he needs.