Bride of Blood:: First Kiss

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Bride of Blood:: First Kiss Page 9

by Anthony E. Ventrello


  Somehow, he believed her. The mind worked in strange ways and he knew that Velara sometimes believed what she wanted to believe. He had learned to do that from her, too.

  “I have to try, my love,” he said to her, kissing her hands. “I have to know.”

  “Fine,” she said with a sad sigh, “But I want your word, Anton, that if things don’t work out with her, you will come back to me.”

  He was silent for a few moments, remembering The Duke’s words again, but it would be hard to find someone as beautiful and as devoted to him as Christina Michelle. In his long life he had neither seen nor loved anyone like her. Still, he did love Velara and he believed that his destiny was truly with her.

  “I promise,” he said to her and then kissed her one last time. He didn’t know if he really believed it or if she believed it. It was what she needed to hear, and what he needed to say at that moment.

  As Anton prepared to leave, he looked back at Christina Michelle one last time. She was so beautiful. Once he had believed that she might be the one, but he didn’t know. How could he know? For the moment they had different paths, and one never knew what the future held, even for vampires. He opened the door and walked out.

  The slamming of the door sounded to Michelle like her breaking heart. She sat on the floor, put her face in her hands and cried. Tears of blood covered her hands and ran down her face. She looked up and saw her reflection in the floor-to-wall mirrors in her foyer. She stood up and took a good look at herself. She wiped the blood from her face and sniffed.

  Several moments later, she touched the glass and the reflection changed. Standing behind her was Lady Bernadine. She turned around, but the vampire queen wasn’t there. She looked back into the mirror and saw Bernadine still there. Bernadine reached up her hand and touched the glass from her side. Michelle touched Bernadine’s hand and felt the positive energy flow to her. Her mind was eased and she felt better. Still, she missed Anton and thought about what would happen next.

  She knew that Anton had killed the fledglings and that the war was on. She also knew that her life could be lost, too, as any vampire that was not a member of The Order of the Dragon was a potential target. Still, she was a Master Vampire and would able to take on most vampires of her own ranking and below. She hid the fact from Anton, but she herself had killed one of Drago’s fledglings. She was ready to fight if she was needed.

  She took her hand away from the glass and Lady Bernadine disappeared. A thought suddenly came into her mind about how she could win both the war and have her man. She walked back to her bedroom and picked up her cellphone. She dialed the number of her long-distance familiar Allexxis. She gave her a few orders and hung up the phone. She smiled and looked out the window again at the large moon.

  ***

  After leaving Michelle, Anton contacted Chelsea who was very relieved to hear from him. She wired him some money so that he could stay in the city before he decided what to do next.

  She did report to him that Alexander had returned home. He sent greetings to Alexander and told him that he would eventually return home.

  “I do have one more favor to ask of you,” Anton told Chelsea as they were nearing the end of their conversation.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “I need you to go down to The Truckstop for me.”

  “The one off the highway?”

  “Yes, there’s a friend of mine that works there…”

  “I’m sorry, Anton,” she said, cutting him off.

  “Excuse me?” he replied with a bit of annoyance.

  “It burned down a few weeks ago,” she said.

  “Oh God!” he said, almost dropping the phone. “Was anyone hurt?” He quietly pled with God that Shannon hadn’t been there.

  “I’m afraid so,” Chelsea said.

  “What happened?”

  There was silence for a few moments. Chelsea seemed to be choosing her words carefully before she responded. Neither she nor Alexander knew about Shannon because she was someone that Anton kept to himself. But she was afraid of Anton’s reaction, nonetheless.

  “I don’t know all the details, yet. No one does. The fire started in a store room and just spread really fast. Nobody was able to get out, I’m afraid. After the restaurant caught fire, then the gas station did and then…”

  Anton didn’t hear the rest of it. Even when Chelsea told him that Shannon was one of those who perished, he didn’t hear her. He didn’t want to. He already knew that Shannon was gone.

  Chelsea went on for a few minutes about foam and the fire marshal and local corruption, but he heard none of it. He just pictured Shannon and her beautiful smile. He would never see her again. He thought of her two children, and how they would grow up without their mother. They would never know the only reason she stayed at that job and with their father was for them. There were many times Anton considered defying Lady Bernadine’s order and making Shannon into a vampire.

  After he somehow managed to mumble out some instructions to Chelsea, he hung up the prepaid cell. With little effort, he crushed the phone and threw it as far as he could. Then he walked along the boardwalk until dawn.

  Anton really didn’t have much time to mourn for Shannon since he had decided to leave the city the next day. He told Chelsea that he would travel by foot to visit some old friends before he resumed his quest to reunite with Velara. He knew that he had to stay focused and alert as the attack on the boardwalk made him realize that a war between the two remaining vampire clans was on. If Drago was willing to sacrifice three fledglings to attack a master vampire, then anything was possible.

  ***

  Later that night a lone figure walked down the Boardwalk. Her footfalls made no sound as she made her way down to the beach. The moonlight made her eyes sparkle under the hood that she wore. Anyone who saw her would suspect that she was just a woman taking a leisurely, late night walk. It was an uncommonly chilly night, so no one would think a woman wearing a hooded cloak was strange.

  From beneath that hood, a large lock of red hair was sticking out. Her hair shimmered in the moonlight as if it were highlighted with diamonds. As she passed a feral cat, she reached out a hand and the usually fearful creature walked up to her and rubbed against her leg. She reached down and petted the creature and then shooed it away.

  She walked on the dock that went out about 50 feet or so into the ocean. When she got to the end of it, she pulled off the hood. Her long red hair and the cloak whipped in the wind, making her appear like a comic book heroine. She bent down and saw that the water was pretty high, it was barely a few inches below the dock.

  She put her index finger into her mouth and bit into it. A small trickle of blood appeared on it. Closing her eyes, she whispered an incantation and dipped her injured finger into the ocean. The salt water might have stung a mortal, but this woman was no mortal. She was in fact Lady Bernadine, the Queen of Vampires, Order of Nepthys.

  The water began to bubble and churn as if it were boiling. Light appeared underwater like someone was shining a spotlight from the depths. Bernadine stood up and raised both hands over her head and began to chant again. Her eyes went totally white and her chanting grew louder as the bubbling became more violent. As her chanting climaxed, three heads appeared out of the water. All three of them looked as if they had been in the water for a long time, although they had only been in there for about a week. Their skin was grey and was slipping from their bones. Remnants of clothes still clung to their bodies and were covered with seaweed and other ocean life. They were the remains of the three fledglings that Anton had killed.

  Their flesh began to bubble and reform as if Lady Bernadine were healing them. They all opened their mouths to scream, but only water came out. They raised their bony hands to their faces. The flesh began to return to their bodies as if it were growing like leaves on a tree. They suddenly floated out of the water and were suspended in mid-air. Lady Bernadine reached out to them and they came to her. With a loud thud, the three
bodies crashed onto the dock.

  Each of them started to breathe and cough up more water. The first one to stand up was Gaereth. His face had been totally restored and the slash across his neck was gone. His eyes were bright and he began to shake from the cold. The other two in turn stood up and looked at each other and examined themselves, as if they couldn’t believe they were alive. Then they looked at Lady Bernadine.

  The water returned to its normal state and Bernadine’s chanting had long ceased. The three fledglings looked at Lady Bernadine, curiously. Seaweed and other things still hung from their hair and their torn clothes still clung to their bodies with wetness.

  She looked at them with an unreadable expression and spoke to them, “I have raised you from the death of your own making. Now you will serve me or return to the abyss from which I brought forth.” She paused and let the words sink in. The three looked at each other and appeared to understand. “Will you serve me and help bring about the destruction of your former master and his followers?”

  The three nodded to each other and then fell to their knees in a deep bow. Gaereth lifted his head again and peered through his long, wet hair. He said in a croaking voice, “We live only to serve you, my Queen.” She nodded at them and smiled.

  Chapter 9 The Return to the Way Station

  Anton found nourishment on the highway. He was pretending to be hitchhiking and hoped the person who stopped for him would be his next victim. He wasn’t disappointed.

  A semi hauling a tanker cross-country stopped to pick him up. Anton surveyed the driver’s mind and discovered that this one was not much better than the one he’d killed at The Truckstop months before.

  Upon first glance, he appeared to be harmless. He was in his mid-40s, clean shaven with blonde hair and medium build. His name was Curtis and he was a veteran driver. He also had a history of violence against women.

  Actually, he was quite fond of picking up prostitutes at truck stops and then engaging in violent sex and torture with them. None of the girls talked because they were afraid that he would come back for them or that the police would not protect them. Two of his victims had later died as a result of their injuries. Anton knew that it was only a matter of time before Curtis graduated to murder, so the world was better off without him in it.

  Anton sat quietly as Curtis began to talk about things that didn’t concern him at all. He accepted the cup of coffee that Curtis gave him. This was perfect as Anton had an act planned. Of course Anton couldn’t drink the coffee or he would really get sick, so instead he took the hot liquid into his mouth and then proceeded to pretend he was choking.

  Curtis slowed the rig down and parked it on the side of the road. “Are you okay?” he asked Anton, and started to pound him on the back. By about the third pound, Anton jumped from his seat and pounced on him. He opened his mouth to scream as Anton quickly snapped his neck and drained him of both blood and life.

  A few miles down the road Anton climbed out the cab. The truck was parked on the side of the quiet highway. He quickly called The Cleaners on his phone and headed back down the highway on foot.

  After his departure from the truck, Anton found sanctuary in an abandoned rest stop off the freeway. Apparently the recession had done some major damage to the place so that not even a franchise restaurant could keep it going. Anton found a safe place to sleep in what had once been a walk-in cooler in one of the restaurants. It was windowless and secure. He was able to find a relatively comfortable spot on the floor to sleep. But before he drifted off, he prepared his mind and body for another trip to The Way Station.

  Anton found himself at The Way Station sitting at the bar again. But this time the clientele was different. Anton didn’t see anyone he recognized except JR, who seemed to be a lot less talkative than usual. Vercie was nowhere to be found, which made him sad because he hoped he she could give him more information about Velara’s whereabouts.

  Anton looked around the bar and noticed that a new sign had been added to the wall. Next to the sign that read “Remember those who lost their lives at The Station” a new sign read “Remember those who lost their lives at The Truckstop”.

  JR saw Anton looking at the sign. He caught Anton’s eye and shrugged, “What else could I do?” Anton nodded. “I mean I tried to send money, but they wouldn’t take it. How many times can I say I’m sorry?” Anton didn’t have an answer. He wished he did. Both tragic events would haunt his heart for a long time. “I tell you, Anton,” said JR as he poured a beer for Anton, “People are nosey and judgmental, even when they’re dead!”

  Suddenly Anton felt a coldness enter the room. A strange scent of roses followed. He became aware that someone was sitting next to him. He didn’t need to look because he knew exactly who the woman was next to him.

  JR uneasily set a glass of wine down in front of the woman. Other patrons entered the bar and stayed as far away from her as possible. The only one who didn’t freak out at the sight of her was Anton. He was too lost in thought to care about who she was.

  She looked at him and smiled and croaked, “Hello, Anton.”

  Without looking at her, he took a quick drink of his beer and said, “Greetings.” He could hear the swish of her robes as she reached for the glass in front of her. He stole a quick glance at her boney hand. Boney in the sense that there was not a bit of flesh on it.

  “You know I’m going to get your prince soon,” she said. It came out as a triumphant statement.

  “Really?” Anton asked, uneasily.

  “Yes,” she hissed. “You know that he’s wanted to meet me for so long. His time is almost up.” She turned and looked at Anton. He could see a pair of red, glowing eyes in the darkness of her hood. “You can relax, Anton. I’m not going to visit you, just yet.” She laughed softly and returned her attention to her drink.

  A young man sat down next to the woman. He was a short, muscular man with long black hair. He was wearing all black clothes and obviously by the look in his eyes, he was not the least bit afraid of or intimidated by the woman. She peered out from behind her cloak and fixed her empty-socket gaze on him. She said in a low voice, “Anzalone, how are you?”

  Anzalone smiled at her and knocked on the bar. JR smiled at him and sat a beer down on the bar. Anzalone grabbed it and drank it down quickly. He slammed the glass down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  Anton nodded to him. Anzalone was a vampire, too, but he had been a convert from The Order of the Dragon. Around the time of the coup, he left The Order and asked Lady Bernadine if he could join up with them. She readily accepted, but Anton and a few others still had a little trouble with him. Anton felt that the only reason Anzalone had switched sides was because it was the easy way out for him. He felt that Anzalone was a coward and stood by and did nothing while Drago and his followers ousted the brothers. Still, a part of him realized that if Lady Bernadine trusted him, then he did, too.

  Anzalone smiled at Anton and had a wicked look in his eye. Anton knew that one of his favorite things to do was to aggravate Lady Death, and this day was no exception. Right away he started in by saying to her in a sing-song voice, “My lady of death, have you come for my last breath?”

  With a grunt, she got up from her seat and left the room without a word. The chill that had seemingly overpowered the room lifted like fog when the sun came out. Suddenly several patrons came into the bar from out of the shadows. Vercie was among them, and she made a beeline to Anton. She sat between him and Anzalone and put her hand on his.

  “You know,” she began as a drink seemed to appear out of nowhere in front of her, “I know that I’m already dead, but I still don’t like to see her!”

  “I don’t think anyone really makes it a practice to hang out with her,” Anton said as Vercie drank her glass of wine. “Although I hear that there are some mortals who actually pray to her and hold her in high regard.”

  “That’s true,” said Anzalone, not wanting to be left out of the conversation, “They call her Sant
isima Muerte. I don’t get it.”

  “You just like to taunt her,” said Vercie, turning to him, “and most of us here thank you for that, sugar.” Everyone in the bar raised their glasses to him in salute. Strange how those that were brought to the land of the dead by her don’t really care for her, thought Anton. Vercie smiled at him and then kissed his forehead. She looked into his dark eyes for a moment. She could see into his heart, as Anton couldn’t. Although he had a dark soul, he was generally good.

  “So, what are you doing these days?” asked Anzalone. Anton gave him a mean look. How could he not know about the war? And the fact that he was one of those that were targeted by Drago.

  “Oh you mean the war?” asked Anzalone, obviously reading Anton’s expression. He never really cared for the vampire at all. He was cordial to him because he knew that was what Lady Bernadine expected of him. He knew that if they were mortals, he would easily be able to take Anton in a fight, probably kill him. But in the vampire world, Anton was a Master Vampire and Anzalone was barely an Acolyte. He was barely 70 years old since he was in his 30’s when he was made. He was one of the few Americans to be made into a vampire by The Prince or anyone in The Order of the Dragon because they mostly stuck to Europe. Anzalone had been very muscular and powerful, though not very tall. When he was made into a vampire, he grew even more muscular although not any taller. When he was a mortal, he was often angry at the world and was quick to get into a fight, and when he became a vampire, things hadn’t changed much. Other than Lady Bernadine, most of those in The Order of Nepthys looked upon him with suspicion and distrust. He really didn’t care and neither did the small group of vampires that had come over with him. Anzalone knew that a day would come where he would have to prove his loyalty to Lady Bernadine and to The Order. Whether Anton or Christina Michelle or anyone else believed it or not, he was willing to give his life for The Order.

 

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