"Would you like some more wine darling one?" Not waiting for my answer, a faceless butler scooped up the crystal goblet that lay before me. The silver decanter tipped, burgundy liquid flowed forth carrying a hint of raspberry that wafted upwards. Licking my lips, I waited for the goblet to be placed back before me, stomach churning with insatiable hunger.
Thirst, the walls whispered to me. Fingers hidden under lace trim reached forth for the cup, wrapping around the cool crystal. Drink...drink and thine hunger shall be sedated the foul choir moaned, my shaking hand raising to my lips. Gold rim of the glass touching my bottom lip as I begun to tip it up. The smile of my dinner companion gave me pause. His teeth long, pointed, unnatural. The wine dripping from the corner of his mouth, coating his lips and-...drink...fangs. The cup no longer carried the scent of raspberries, but assaulted me with a metallic stench. Caught off guard, I dropped the goblet, the glass falling in slow motion before shattering on the table, throwing its dark contents all over the fine china and baroque table linens. The shattering sound echoed, spilled liquid seeming to grow and stretch across the cloth. The feast upon the table lay rotten, maggots crawled in and out of the roast, fruit flies scoured decaying strawberries. The candelabras dripped red fluids rather than ivory wax. The violin crescendo, the minstrel scouring the strings.
"Are you alright my love?" Taking a bite out of the brown twisted husk of a rotten apple with his bloody teeth. The paintings, their faces-twisted and mutilated-howled at me. YOU WILL DRINK-
Running water. Birds. The dull mechanical hum of a ventilation system. Sounds stirred me from my unconscious that had little to do with my last known surroundings. The air smelled sweetly, warm against my skin. Rejecting this impossible reality I lay perfectly still, my mind trying to place logic to these elements. There had been screams. I was certain China had gotten a shot off. I had been reaching for the knife I had tucked into my belt and then...nothing.
Perhaps I am dead, I mused. Maybe that foul place was not a dream but purgatory. If I opened my eyes would I find the pearly gates before me? Was the soft material under my bare feet clouds of heaven? Bare feet...I had boots on before. Suddenly I found myself acutely aware of what parts of my skin were exposed to air and which were covered with cloth. Not the rough massed produced material of the hospital scrubs either, but a soft thin fabric that draped over me in waves. Someone had changed my clothes and I highly doubted it was the work of angels. I had been unconscious and someone had stripped me and put me in this get up. Revolution replaced the need for courage, my eyes flittered open, determined to find out what exactly had been done to me.
Too bright. With a hiss, my lids clamped shut. Sharp pain speared from my left temple with such intensity I feared I may vomit. Through controlled breathing I fought it, telling myself that the room was not spinning.
"Zài mōle yī bǎ nàhǎn." A male voice, barely audible in the distance. The presence of another was enough for me to battle through the pain. Opening my eyes I blinked rapidly, wishing my pupils would hurry up and dilate to the point where I could view more than blurry green splotches all around me.
"Bǎ tā." A second voice, deeper, frustrated. My breathing staggered, sitting up I wiped at my watering eyes. A blob to my left slowly defined into a hibiscus plant. A bird cage housing three yellow finches hung from the stuffy office tiled ceiling. An indoor waterfall machine sat between two large bushes with wide deep green leaves. I had to have been on the upper floors of the high rise, there was nothing but endless blue visible from the wide window. Swinging my legs over the side of the old hospital bed I fully intended to get a better look out of that window. However, when my gaze landed on my feet I paused.
My toenails had been painted a deep purple. As had my fingernails. Jeans and other effects had been folded on the chair to the right of the bed.
This was not a jail I was familiar with. If it was a jail at all? Tugging at the hem of the knee length skirt, I worried at the other possibilities. My combat ready threads had been replaced with an oriental printed silk wrap dress. Thankfully much to my relief, my bra and panties had been left on. Sitting up straighter I caught my reflection in the mirror at the far end of the room. I was wearing makeup; heavy black lines circled my eyes, lips tinted red, way too much blush on my cheeks. Yuck. I made a mental plan; first I had to change and get this crap off of my face, then I needed to get out of-
The door burst open, in strode the short vampire from the ambush. He was of Asian descent, classic dark hair cut just above his brow in the front, the back ends touching the collar of the obsidian dress shirt he wore under his crisp white suit. His facial features were flawless, perfectly proportioned to the point where he appeared as though someone had ripped him out of a CGI video game sequence.
Hovering at the lights edge his feet were planted just beyond the guest chair by the doorway. "Come with me."
"Screw you."
"I command you-"
"No one commands me." There was something about an unforeseen fate that made me obstinate. If he was going to kill me, he was going to kill me. No amount of begging or pleading would change that fact, so I saw no reason to be pleasant or subservient. Screw. Him.
White suit shifted his feet, clenching his jaw in irritation. "Come here."
"Step into the light and we'll talk." I sneered at him. If he did in fact step forward he would be vulnerable. Not the phony burst into flames vulnerable, but mortal. Woundable. I could break the leg off the wooden chair perhaps, or hit him with one of the plant potters.
Licking his lips, he replied. "You will come with me. Now. Or I will kill your cohort." His flat uninterested tone reminded me of Antonia. Honestly, that scared me more than his words. The fact that he did not use plural nouns in that sentence gave me hope that Candice, Rylie and Ben were still undetected.
No wanting to insinuate there were others, I mocked worry. Widening my eyes, I gasped. "How do I know she is not already dead?"
"Mistrust is not a liberty available to you." So right that was. With a heavy heart, I followed my captor into the dark. The air changed, the sweet smell of my room replaced with stale disinfectant filled air.
He bade me to walk in front of him, the linoleum floor cool under my bare feet. The chill carried through me, forcing me to shiver.
There were no windows in this traditional hospital hallway, just row upon row of rooms once intended to heal. Sounds emanated from behind closed doors as we walked along, a myriad of voices murmuring in various states from unbridled joy to horrific pain. To my left someone or something was methodically pounding against the wooden door the systematic reverberations sent a shiver down my spine, so akin to the methods used by the dead. They wouldn't dare keep deadheads up here...would they?
"Through here." With his arm level to his waist he gestured to the stairwell. Standing next to me I noticed not only did he wear far too much cologne but he had mismatched eyes. One was blue while the other was hazel.
"Where are we going?" I was not surprised when he didn't answer me. Like a statue he waited, following only when my feet consented to press on.
With each ascending step a dull hum grew under my skin. Misplaced anticipation that could only be associated with one thing. Dimitri was close. At the stair landing there was a latter extending to a trap door indicating this was the top floor of the high-rise.
The plaque that hung on the wall read Dr. and Mrs. Weinstein memorial conference hall. Once upon a time the good doctor had probably shelled out a small fortune to construct this top floor upper class symposium for lectures-more likely fundraisers-on all sorts of subjects. Unfortunately, behind the heavy oak doors nothing remained that would give an indication this space had ever served a productive purpose for mankind.
The massive conference hall had been transformed, transported to a different age. No, a different continent. Once lit by large overhead fluorescents, the space was now only illuminated by candlelight in sharp contrast to the human tower. All of the conference furniture had b
een emptied from the space. Red silk draperies had been hung from the ceiling like cascading ribbons leading to the gold trimmed throne built several steps up from the floor on a wide platform. Cloth banners hung in deep umber on either side of the seat, decorated in mandarin calligraphy. Every outer wall in the hall was hidden behind large bolts of cloth, some covered with gold framed paintings of a variety of scenes; battles, mothers and children, dragons. Two large gold sensors carried peaceful jasmine into the air, I wondered briefly if it was to mask the smell of the recently deceased caged in the front right corner by the entryway. Three deadheads-all female and none over the age of fifteen-moaned and rattled about inside a cage meant for large dogs. None of the living in the space seemed to pay them mind, human girls-with heavily marred necks-in dresses much like mine wandered about the hall watering plants, dusting and primping the three scantily dressed vampiric females-all of Asian descent with supermodel quality beauty-that lounged on the large bed behind the throne. One of the humans played a erhu softly, seated on the floor just to the left of the bed. It was a nest, a full-fledged vampire nest and at the center of it all sat an Asian man cross legged on the throne.
Zhang Qi.
He did not look as I expected. I guess in my mind I stereotyped him into Fu Manchu; ancient, gray haired with a long stringy beard and mustache. None of that was accurate. He was young, visibly a decade younger than myself. Clean shaven, his black hair was braided in the back, the end pulled over his left shoulder and reaching down to the center of his chest. Smooth olive skin, a pronounced jaw, high cheekbones and hollow cheeks would have given his face the appearance of youthful beauty if it had not been for his haunting eyes. There was no color to them, both were the palest white with only a pin prick of retina and yet, for some reason I did not think that he was blind.
"Zhè shì chùmō de nǚhái." I was shoved from behind, stumbling forward I caught myself from falling.
The white suit walked around me, taking a place beside the right stair to Zhang's platform. One of the female vampires purred something softly to him. "Lái zhèlǐ..." but was met with a frown and curt reply, "Xiànzài bù."
"Tell me child, to which house are you bound?" There was no accent to his slowly annunciated words, only a hint of amusement in his tenor tone.
"I am bound by no one."
A cold mask of a smile covered his face as he raised his left hand dramatically, drawing attention to the walnut sized ruby that sat on his index finger. Long skeletal fingers snapped, an unspoken command that had one of the human women moving quickly from the side of the throne to the left wall, where she pulled back the curtain.
A moment in time that would become permanently engraved in my memories no matter if I lived a few more hours or many years. Behind the heavy velvet was what I had dreamed of for months. Yearned for. Bled for.
Dimitri.
My heart pounded in my chest, blinking back tears I tried to keep my facial expression as passive as possible. Chained to the wall by his neck, hands and ankles, metal spikes had been driven into his shoulders under his collarbone. Shirtless, his chest was pale, gaunt, a deep hollow revealing every line of his ribcage. Head bowed as much as his bindings would allow, he did not appear conscious. Dried blood caked on his arms, chest, face and matted his thick black hair.
"So this one is unknown to you then?" Zhang drawled. "How about this one?"
Another snap brought the large intimidating vampire from the ambush from the shadows, he was carrying someone over his shoulder...
In a quick motion, China's lifeless body was thrown at my feet. Her throat had been torn on both sides, deep vein lines ran under her paled skin, her intimidating stare was now listless, parted lips were battered and blue, her clothing had been torn, shoes removed, right elbow bent at an unnatural angle. She had been drained dry, clearly after some amount of resistance.
"I know you are an agent of Mediterranean filth. Speak your purpose and I may grant you the mercy of a quick death."
With no reason to lie I got to the point. "We came to parlay, at the request of Caius Lambros."
"That I would speak with lesser creatures." Zhang looked to his left. "Bo." The large vampire stood at attention, awaiting command.
"Hang this one in the common room. Let the humans know about the break in, that this one wished to unleash the dead upon our community. The wilds took its wits, made it mad, cannibalistic. Remind them of the protection we provide."
"Yes, my lord." There was no respect in the way that he removed China's body. Like an old ratty blanket Bo dragged her off the first step, then threw her over his shoulder. I could have sworn something within her back cracked, her teeth gnashing infrequently as he swaggered away.
"The message." Zhang prompted, appearing somewhat bored he rolled his hand about in a circular get on with it motion. "What was it you were to tell me?"
"The death of your lover was unsanctioned by Caius, it was a murder done by Antonia that was returned in kind. We want peaceful trade to re-establish between our two colonies for future prosperity." Bo returned while I was talking, taking his place to the left of Zhang while the little one in white stood to the right.
"You think I care for the death of one woman?" Zhang gestured wide with his right hand, slowly sweeping across the room. "I can make another out of dozens of willing humans." If I didn't know better the three female vampires appeared slightly insulted by his statement while the human women seemed to dip their heads even lower as they carried out their menial tasks.
"You attacked us. Sent those waves of dead to our door." I spat.
"Call it a successful experiment in control." Zhang laughed, his minions grinned in support. "The reign of the Twifel Princes is ending. Those that remain loyal to a failing monarchy resign themselves to become nothing more than ink on a page of the last age. Statements accentuated by these...pitiful...acts. The Twifel, the grand Princes of our race, send a thrall and a runaway slave to best me?"
Laughter echoed through the hall, mixtures of high pitched cackles and low rumblings. Rage boiled behind my eyes. I knew I would die soon, there was no doubt about that.
"Now as for you, I can think of no better reward than what you want most in this world. Your master has not fed in months, in the throes of the blood fever. When he is unchained he will set upon you in a fury, draining your body of every drop until you are akin to the husk thrown at your feet."
I would not give him the satisfaction of fear. A small part of my mind considered the possibility that a fully fed Dimitri may heal enough to escape. Standing straight I kicked up my chin. "Unchain him then. Stop wasting time."
Zhang focused those unreadable orbs on me, "No...perhaps," he paused, running his tongue over his extended fangs, "you would enjoy such a fate to greatly....perhaps...." slowly he eyed me, evaluating my form from head to toe in a leering way that brought the blood rushing to my cheeks. "I should just turn and keep you." Zhang turned his head towards the back wall. "What do you say Dimitri? Would you like to watch?"
My Dimitri, my dear Dimitri, stirred. His left hand trying to form a fist while he made an unsuccessful attempt to raise his head.
Zhang opened his mouth, but the words that flowed forth were lost in a deafening explosion. Thrown forward, my face hit the cool marble tile. Coughing from the smoke in the air. Standing at the cusp of the room-where the doors once were-was Rylie, Russ, Candice and a few other men who must have been locals. In the twitchy Lake City native arms was a rocket launcher, still smoking from the initial firing.
"Knock knock bitches." Cooed Candice, kicking out her hip she gave a little wave.
In an instant the room was engulfed in chaos. The human servants of Zhang ran screaming in all directions, their brightly colored dresses barely visible in the burning air. My companions rushed forward, met halfway by the vampiric minions. Bo tore through Russ like he was made of paper, the weapon falling to the floor in a waterfall of blood. A blur-I could only assume Candice-threw him off of the body and into t
he back wall. I lost track of Rylie and Ben in the sea of bullets and blood. The locals fell quicker than I could count. Poorly trained, the wives fed upon them while the white suit ripped heads from shoulders, a smile on his face. One of the last men standing tossed two smoke grenades into the center of the room. Smart. As far as I knew vampires didn't have filter vision and there was enough noise/ash in the air to disrupt their other senses. In the left front corner of the hall a bomb of some kind went off, bits of daylight peeking through where the plaster had cracked to the outside world. In those illuminated rays I saw a few of his dead pets feeding on the human servant girls. Lost in smoke and flame, a clammy hand with long red nails grabbed onto my arm. The twisted face of the dark haired Asian woman emerged from the haze, hissing at me as she tried to pull me to her elongated fangs. Unarmed and under classed in strength I had little to work with.
Soft spots Evelyn. My Dad's voice reminded me. Anything can be a weapon. As the tips of her fangs pierced the shoulder of my dress, I dug the thumb of my one free hand into her eye socket. Pushing as hard as I could against the cold wet orb, I convinced myself I was not crushing someone's eyeball with my bare hand. I hated eye injuries, I always have, but in life or death situations, I was going to squish some damned grapes. It didn't take but a moment, there was a sickly pop, blood flowing from the socket. The vamp pulled back from me, howling.
"Heal that you bitch." I snapped. She backhanded me, the force of the blow throwing me back several yards. My head landed against the marble floor, fresh streaks of pain blurring my vision and dulling my sensibility. I had to find a weapon. I had to- had to-
"Enough!" The deep voice resonated throughout the hall, human and vampire alike turning to the source. The command came not from Zhang Qi, but from Caius.
Standing in the broken doorway the almost seven foot tall vampiric lord of Junction played the part in a suit directly out of the renaissance; long black hair flowing over the high collar of his coat and across his shoulders, strands cascading into his face from his center parted widows peak. Perfect features emotionless, his pale eyes scanned the room slowly while Zhang's followers scrambled to line up behind their master. One of Zhang's women still lived, as well as both Bo and the white suit. At the back of the room, one of the servant girls was crying, the last of the undead wrapped in her extracted intestines. The white suit frowned, in a blur he decapitated both the dead and its victim and quickly returned to his masters side without a drop of blood on his clothing.
The Blood Bargain (Book 2): Breach Page 25