Aleron: Book One of Strigoi Series (Stringoi Series)

by Kane

  I slowly stood and paused for just a moment. Then I boldly leapt out of the shadows in the direction of the voice. So swift were my movements that nothing could have evaded my attack. The dust disturbed by my flight thickened the air and was illuminated by the sun’s evening rays. But as I swung my powerful hands, I hit only air!

  Snickering, the vampire continued, “My voice won’t reveal to you where I am within this wretched place. The stench of the blood clinging to the face of the female who travels with you called out to me, just as loud as a child would.”

  Her voice came from an entirely different direction. This irritated me. Was she even there? I began to question my senses. I turned, and for just an instant I saw the reflection of silver eyes just beyond the shadows cast by the tall wooden bookshelf. I took this opportunity to lunge at the intruder, this trickster of a vampire, and again my attempt failed, leaving only an echoing crash and a crushed bookshelf.

  “You’ve awakened the young one,” she said with sarcasm.

  The door to the closet where Raya slept broke open, and out of the dust flew an animalistic Raya. She spoke to my mind, Where is she, my lord? I will destroy her.

  No, I replied in our silent manner. She’s more than a challenge for you. Remain alert and still. She did as I commanded.

  “You’re not as pitiful as I suspected, young girl,” the vampire shrieked yet again, her voice coming from elsewhere. “It is wise to listen to your master.”

  I knew to find her I must block out her voice and pay attention to the movement of the dust. As she spoke, I looked for disturbed particles that rustled about to the rhythm of her speech. And once I found such a place, I raised the rubble on the floor without the aid of my hands and forced the debris to attack the spot where I anticipated her next destination to be. I flew to where I thought she would flee to, and my hands caught hold of her. She dug her claws into my arm that held hers. It caused an excruciating pain, one I had never felt as an immortal. Her fingernails were acid and my skin was mortal to her touch, for there was no immediate healing afterwards. Despite the pain, I held fast and managed to collect her entire body into mine, squeezing her tightly from behind, eliminating any opportunity for escape.

  “Clever girl,” I whispered into her ear. She struggled and kicked for freedom, only to have her legs held by Raya, as I held her arms and torso. Her movements settled soon after her defeated attempts.

  “I’ve plenty for you to answer, and you will give me what I desire, what I need.” I swiftly bit down into her neck and began to suck her blood. Her life’s force flowed into mine as if it were damned and my teeth freed it. Rushing and unwavering, it continued.

  “Drain her dry, my lord. Kill this demon!”

  Suddenly the euphoric feeling was interrupted by the burning sensation underneath the skin that had been exposed by her claws. Somehow the fire was rekindled beneath my skin and burned unabated. This distracted me as she tore her neck from my mouth and then kicked Raya into the opened closet. She then opened her palms and pushed the air toward me. A great force threw me back some twenty feet, sending me crashing through the door and into the hallway. The vampire also fell back into the table and chair, obliterating them.

  I found my footing and immediately charged her. With my adversary before me, I unleashed a powerful strike against her, hitting nothing once again. She was gone.

  I charged outside and to the top of the roof, but there was no sign of her. Raya burst through the front door, startling the single wolf that was patrolling the front of the house. Before she could take in her surroundings, the large ferocious wolf jumped at her throat, its mouth open wide and salivating violently. Killing was its only reason for existing. With blinding speed, Raya simultaneously sidestepped and ducked under the airborne beast. She then struck the wolf in midair, sending it into the shattered doorframe. It was ultimately impaled through its ribcage by protruding pieces of wood. The beast let out a sharp cry and bled right at her feet.

  I returned to the ground next to Raya.

  “He’ll know we are coming, my lord!”

  “No, he won’t, my love, for I tasted her blood, and I know exactly where she’s going. We must leave posthaste.”

  I gathered Raya into my arms, and together we flew to Constanta, on the coast where Romania meets the Black Sea.

  The vampire’s scent was carried by the wind. We were getting close to her. I knew that I would have no chance of entering Bran if its defenses were alerted prior to my arrival. I had to catch her. I had to continue and complete what I had already started. Her blood was shouting out to me.

  I released Raya close to the ground and continued in my pursuit. She tried desperately to keep up, but she simply couldn’t. To the treetops I went. Raya was running fiercely below, reading my thoughts to maintain proper direction.

  I looked down as the scent grew stronger, and I spotted the vampire moving rapidly through the brush. A pack of those ungodly beasts followed her closely, charged with protecting her. Her movements were swifter than a fleeing feline. Even the leaves and branches were barely disturbed during her escape, while the wolves slipped farther and farther behind. I kept my eyes on my target.

  Swiftly catching up to the snarling angry pack, Raya saw them maneuvering through the dense forest and undauntedly continued her pursuit. To her mind I spoke, There are many of those wretched beasts this time. Are you up for the challenge?

  I am pursuing them, my lord. They are the ones running for their lives.

  After receiving her silent confident answer, I looked to complete my own task at hand.

  The fleeing vampire moved with incalculable speed, but I moved faster. Ahead I recognized the Carpathians. Dark and ghastly they were under the moonlight. She was trying to return to her master’s bosom. She sensed me and looked up over her shoulder slightly. She didn’t catch my eye, but her vampire instincts told her to be evasive. This proved to be futile as I threw my will at her, and though I failed to knock her off her feet, I managed to push her out of her stride just long enough to grab her.

  “You’ll feed me life!” I growled, slamming my shoulder into her torso, ramming her to the ground. The impact sent us into the dirt, and several yards of earth were displaced, rustling the leaves and breaking the small branches along the ground.

  On top of her, I grabbed a handful of her hair, yanked her head forward, and ripped her immortal locks from their resting place. With my paws no longer on her, she threw me off, and I landed squarely on my feet. She crouched down, accepting of my challenge. Dirt and leaves clung to her disheveled hair, and the bald spot began to fill in before my eyes.

  To my surprise, she smirked. “Your young one seems to have met her fate at the fangs of the master’s pets. Only fitting since my sister’s blood is within you. I felt it when I wounded you—anguish that you’ll find hard to dismiss!”

  She was right. It was as if the recognition of the wounds reawakened its fury. The fire was reignited upon my arm. However, this time, it did little to distract me, nor did the thought of Raya and the wolves. I was focused on one thing. My very life depended on the blood I’d already savored—her blood. I wanted all of it. I needed all of it.

  My anticipation quickened my reflexes and vampire senses. I could feel the blood I’d already consumed rise and boil within me.

  She ran on hand and foot, as a true animal would, toward the trunk of a tree, leaped onto it, then rebounded off, hands outstretched and reaching for my throat, her teeth finally making their grand entrance to the stage to join the opera finale that would end in my death! I took flight seconds before her talons met their mark. The force I exerted on her descending body knocked her backward and into the tree of her flight’s origin, but she returned.

  Injured, she hit the ground. The leaves scattered upon impact. I landed again on my feet. Without a second to delay, she was attacking me again, over and over a series of clawing, scraping, and scratching, her arms flailing, driving me back. She managed to rip my cloak on the left
side. Pity she didn’t see my hand leave my side for her face. And with one single powerful blow, I heard a loud crack as her head whipped back and to the side. This, of course, wasn’t enough to kill her; it merely slowed her down.

  I was amazed at her resilience. Her head was twisted abnormally, eyes nearly facing her back, the bones beneath her head slightly protruding, stretching the skin on one side of her throat, pulling her mouth and chin crooked.

  She needed both hands to attempt rescue as she began choking on her own blood. I didn’t allow her to fully recover. I pounced on her as a lion would another after a vicious fight and display of might. Her blood was waiting for me. It called to me, and I answered it. Her hands left her neck as I drew blood from it. She tried to tear my teeth from her throat and nearly succeeded. Nearly. But it was far too late.

  Her blood nourished me, and her heart of fire began to cool, her eyes no longer staring at me with intent, replaced by helplessness and desire. I saw a longing in her eyes, and in that moment, I realized we vampire all want death in the end. She gave into me. She welcomed death with open arms. She was my mother lying almost breathless next to Aknon, hopeless and at peace. As my mother was delivered, so was she.

  Her heart stopped as her eyelids began to close. The silver glow was reduced to a dim grey. In her very last moments, I saw a woman who in a different life may have served as a mate instead of a meal.

  “How touching, my lord,” Raya said as she approached, witnessing me in a moment of passion. For it must have looked to her as two immortals embracing each other, despite one being completely limp. Her fight with the pack of wolves yielded a face full of dirt, blood, and ripped clothing. She wore a wolf’s head and skin atop her own, with its bottom jaw completely severed. A bold statement!

  “What took you so long?” I replied in sarcasm as I dropped the body.

  “Had to walk the dog,” she said with a tinge of laughter. “Was her blood as sweet as the last?”

  “Sweeter.”

  “As sweet as mine?”

  “Sweeter still, my child.” My vampire teeth were unmistakable in this moonlight, offering up a quick smile. “We must go.” We gathered ourselves, and with one last glance at the lifeless vampire lying on the ground, we were gone.

  CHAPTER 32

  t was November twenty-third in the year 1886. Mynea was now frantic and consumed with worry. Pandora had returned to her a mirror of her life: the journal—a memoir of the life and death of Mynea. A reflection of the adulterous kiss she had given to me. Mynea had only to look in it to discover herself again. She would see the night Vlad delivered her to the devil. She would see her embrace of the fallen angel with only a title and without the importance or significance of a name. She saw her life immortal, living as a maiden among many others, fighting for the affection of the supreme. She witnessed betrayal, deception, and death, all at the hands of her master and lover, at the hands of her sisters, even of her own hands, and bloody they were.

  In her jealousy, she did what Sasha couldn’t. She had created the nemesis of her king. From her rage spawned one more powerful and deadly than any of the others. And through her own deceit and longing, she gave birth in him a desire to break free of her impossible hold.

  The blood-stained record now told only of death, terrible reflections of her children being targeted and slaughtered, her own actions and will turned against her. She was full of dismay and confusion when her journal revealed her to herself!

  Mynea swiftly left the castle in fear of Vlad’s return and what Pandora would tell him before his arrival. She didn’t know where they were, but she had a place she often visited where she could remain in absolute solitude. On Lake Snagov there stood a single structure situated in the middle of the black water, the Snagov Monastery.

  The night air held much more than a chill, thus the streets were completely empty of mortals. The local townspeople kept their pets and animals inside, for the brutality of the bitter cold was unforgiving and knew nothing of discrimination. The rain that fell early that day became snow before resting on the ground. Continuously falling, it completely blanketed the entire region.

  All was dark, perfect cover for a vampire as swift as Mynea. She fled Bran, feet barely gracing the snow below them, the white blanket undisturbed for hundreds of yards at a time, a specter in the night if witnessed by anything other than an immortal. She called out to her children, and the remaining ones answered. They knew where to meet her.

  Mynea arrived at the bank of the lake, barely panting from her journey. She felt vulnerable for the first time in centuries; mortality was at her doorstep. Through a second-story window she entered the monastery. She scanned the island and sensed nothing immortal. She felt a moment of peace as she let her children know she awaited their arrival.

  Waiting in the main hall, she nervously paced and thought. She had seen what Vlad’s rage could bring. Time and time again she bore witness to pain and suffering, ending in death and dismemberment followed by total consumption in fire. He was no ordinary vampire. There had been none other known to have his thirst for blood, and to my knowledge that is still true.

  She heard a sound coming from beneath the main hall. Frantically she scanned the entire monastery. Her keen vampire sense failed to reveal a threat, so she dismissed the sound as that of an animal crawling around beneath the building. Then she heard yet another faint sound. She scanned the area prior to going down the staircase to the basement. Though completely unaided by light, her vampire eyes and senses searched and found nothing out of the ordinary. She went back up the stairs, and before she reached the top, something snatched her in midstep.

  It threw her back down the stairs into the darkness, catching her by surprise and using such force that she couldn’t recover before her body hit the ground hard. Whatever it was, she still couldn’t see it. It grabbed her again and threw her into the center. With a roar and magnificent display, fire erupted, surrounding the room entirely. The stone walls burned as if doused with an incendiary catalyst. Mynea regained her control and sat up in the room, which still contained no life, save hers.

  She looked around frantically as the flames illuminated the room, and what she saw brought terror to her heart: the heads of the three remaining daughters strewn about on the floor. The horror on their faces told of an excruciating demise. Crimson tears welled in her eyes. Then she heard his slow and steady heartbeat. It was menacing, simultaneously soothing and terrifying. Methodically she turned around and saw, sitting in an old wooden chair, Vlad.

  The look of disgust on his face and blood thirst within his eyes spoke volumes to his intent. For just an instant she saw the eyes of a once mortal Vlad, rich and brilliantly blue. Slowly the white surrounding the blue blackened.

  Mynea finally sensed others were near, and soon, one by one, the immortal children filled the basement. The flames continued to burn. The shadows screeched and rustled about. The wolves began to sing, and Mynea’s heart began to bleed.

  “My dear, there isn’t any need for sorrow,” Vlad commanded from the wooden throne. “For this is a great event, grand in all its splendor.” He stood enormous before his coven, before his council of elders: Pandora, Natasha, and, lying on the floor, Mynea. “For hundreds of years an event like this has never occurred. We’re blessed with immortality, yet it comes at a price that’s maddening to our existence.”

  He walked slowly through the crowd of his children, all of whom were from Pandora and Natasha. He made eye contact with each of them. “A great betrayal occurred decades ago, and the present offers its resolution!”

  Mynea, broken-spirited, lifted her head and stood firm in the center of the room surrounded by the bloodless heads of her daughters, accusing eyes prancing upon her from all directions. She wasn’t their queen tonight, nor would she ever be again. She was their enemy, for Vlad required absolute devotion. Any wavering meant death!

  Mynea looked around only to find the evidence of her blasphemy written on the faces of all who witnessed
her rise. They would all witness her fall and ultimately her demise. Those who had loved her, hated her now even more. She felt totally alone in that moment, and she was.

  Vlad walked slowly to her, and she called out to the only one who loved her unconditionally. If vampires gave in to prayer at times of certain death, this would have been hers. However, she prayed not for God, nor for salvation of her soul. She prayed for me!

  Calmly he spoke, “I need not your blood to know. I need not your blood to see. For I’ve already seen this Aleron. And when I’m finished with you, my queen, this abomination will endure my unbridled wrath!” As Vlad sternly made his declaration, the flame roared louder and burned brighter, punctuating his promise.

  Mynea ran for the entrance, and in an instant the vampire children blocked it by their numbers, forcing her back to the center of the room. Vlad commanded the others to tear her apart, and so the carnage began.

  One vampire pounced onto Mynea’s back and bit into her neck. And just as fast as she sank her teeth in, she was flung inches deep into the shattered stone floor, her body broken completely. Mynea finished her with a mighty blow to her chest, crushing her heart.

  Another flew and knocked Mynea into the crowd, who all began to bite flesh from her. Vlad stood still as Pandora smiled, enjoying her position next to her love.

  One by one the vampires were thrown about. But as soon as they hit the ground, they were back on her, clawing fiercely at their sovereign mother, completely destroying her gown.

  A vampire bit her wrist and nearly severed her hand. Though wounded, the queen proved to be more than capable of destroying the vampires. Some burst into flames, and screams escaped the mouths of the unfortunate burning few.

  Mynea moved like a lioness protecting herself against an unruly and hungry pack of hyenas. But as the fight progressed, they wore her down, for there were still many more waiting to taste the blood of an elder. With a great cry, Mynea pushed forth a force similar to Vlad’s and sent the vampires into the surrounding marble statues and stone walls. Some were crushed, others merely wounded. Some even regained their footing instantly.