Blood Reign

by Harvey W. McCarthy

  "Oh stop your fucking whining. You're still alive so to speak. Clean yourself up and then find out what kind of wood that is. The rest of you, get this pile of pompous goo off of my beautiful garage floor. I will be relaxing and you won't need me," she said as she turned and strutted away.

  Again, she did not see anyone in her path as she returned to her bedroom. She was going to have another bath since she was so rudely interrupted during the last one. Five brief minutes later, she was in her room. She passed her office and she spied the tome. She figured that she could read while she was in the Jacuzzi. She picked up the tome and the newspaper caught her eye. Against her wishes, someone had read her newspaper prior to giving it to her. The arts and culture section was sitting on top. Normally, she would have to kill someone because they had defied her and read her newspaper. Today, she was going to let them live. Killing Michaels had made her day. She spied the picture of a traveling museum exhibit which was featuring a recently discovered book. It was a book that she hadn't seen in a very long while. It was Lord Visigoth's tome.

  "It looks like I am going on a trip," she said evilly.

  She laughed.

  CHAPTER 13

  APRIL 12, 1912

  Mikhaeli Lanaova had spent the better part of the last decade traveling to and from Europe to the United States of America. She had successfully transported an entire castle from Ireland to Colorado. Hidden under the guise of people immigrating to the United States, Mikhaeli had secretly funded their dreams. In exchange, she had them transport the bricks from the castle in their personal effects. White Star Line, who had recently built ocean liners that were dubbed 'The Big Four,' became unsuspecting participants in her emigration and transporting scheme.

  White Star Line, a prominent British shipping company, had brought four ocean liners (Celtic, Cedric, Baltic, and Adriatic) into service between 1901 and 1907. These ships had interested Mikhaeli because they could carry over two thousand third class passengers; where the bulk of her immigrants would travel. Along with the ability to carry thousands of passengers, the ships had incredibly large cargo holds. Mikhaeli, under the guise of large companies or rich business tycoons who needed to move large amounts of merchandise, had purchased cargo space in addition to the space required by her immigrants. Her favorite role was that of a spoiled rich girl who needed to get away from her parents, but she needed to take her personal effects with her. There were also many willing White Star Line employees ready to help her load her cargo onto the ships. Several of them made tasty snacks too.

  Inside the cargo hold was rarely true personal effects, but rather many tons of brick and artifacts from her Irish castle. With Irish emigrants being the chief source of income, White Star Line employees often overlooked that their passengers had extremely heavy baggage when they boarded the ships bound for America. Mikhaeli, who always oversaw her investments, always purchased passage on each trip. Her beauty and her exotic charm had always allowed her to purchase or be given first class accommodations even when the first class section of the ship had been already booked. She was always given the best room and her cargo was always handled with the utmost care. She often seduced customs officials when she arrived at her destinations. Her cargo was always immediately carried off of the ship and loaded onto trains for its trip to Colorado. Her move had taken her a lot longer than she had expected to complete, but she had made her final voyage in 1907 and her castle was completed two years later.

  Her current voyage was completely unexpected. She had received a telegram from her minions in Europe. She had been relaxing in her new home after years of travel when a telegram had arrived at her door. After feasting on the messenger, she read the message. Her minions had recently discovered the location of Lord Visigoth's tome. Despite having to travel during the winter of 1912 which one of the coldest winters ever recorded in the Northern United States, she departed for Europe.

  Her plans were foiled as her agents, who had decided to betray her interests and satisfy their own, had attacked the small synagogue in Paris where the tome was hidden. When she arrived, her agents told her of their failures and begged for her forgiveness. She forgave all of them by chaining them to the Eiffel Tower and she had watched their bodies burst into flames when the sun rose the next morning. She thought it was a very beautiful light show. She did discover, through a rather enjoyable interrogation of a council warrior, that the tome was headed to the United States. Undaunted, she found the next available luxury liner and she had purchased a first class ticket under the name of 'Juliette Rougeau.' With her wealth and background, she knew that she could easily blend in with the pompous aristocracy of the first class passengers. She walked along the promenade deck towards the dining area. It was time to eat and, according to the passengers, the RMS Titanic had the finest dining areas ever built on a luxury ship.

  The ship was magnificent and very appropriate for her expensive lifestyle. Since becoming vampire royalty through violence and seduction, Mikhaeli had developed a taste, along with human blood, for the finer things in life. As described in the wealthy circles around the world, the Titanic outdistanced her rivals in opulence and luxury. During her brief stay aboard, Mikhaeli had taken a dip in the swimming pool, flirted in the gymnasium, and flirted again while playing squash. She thought that the game was absolutely moronic and a complete bore, but she was trying to locate her next meal. One of the players, a man in his late-twenties, had taken an interest in her and he had invited her to accompany him at dinner. His family had been invited to dine with Bruce Ismay; the Chairman of White Star Line.

  To impress anyone who saw her, Mikhaeli had her hair styled. Her long, dark hair was curled and held up with an ornate hairpin. Several curls hung down in front of her ears. She wore a beautiful powder blue dress and matching hat to accent her bright blue eyes. The hair stylist thought that it was unusual for her to request to have her hair styled after dark, but she told her that she wanted to look as radiant as possible prior to her dinner date. It was a believable story that the stylist had heard several times. However, Mikhaeli was simply avoiding the sun.

  She entered the first class dining hall. The dining hall was the location where the rich came to dine in style. It spanned the entire width of the ship which was very unusual even for a ship of such grandeur. Its walls were a peanut white to accent its Jacobean style. Mikhaeli was impressed with the designer's sense of style except that she hated the oak furniture. She had always hated oak for some unknown reason.

  Several members of her dinner party had already gathered in the first class reception area and they had begun to venture towards the dining hall. Harry Whitner, the man who had invited her to dinner, smiled as she approached. She batted her eyes and played the part of the love struck teenager.

  "You look absolutely radiant," he said as he ogled her.

  She giggled as she extended her white, gloved right hand. "You flatter me," she said with a sweet, French accent.

  "I cannot tell a lie," he said as he took her extended hand and he kissed it softly.

  She giggled again. "Are all men from Philadelphia so gentlemanly?"

  "Only the smart ones," he replied as he extended his arm. "Shall we?"

  She smiled and let out another brief giggle. She took his arm and he led her away from the first class dining hall.

  "Where are we going?" she asked.

  "My parents have informed me that Mr. Ismay has changed the location of our dinner to the À La Carte restaurant. I hope you don't mind."

  "Why would I mind?" she flirted as she rubbed his arm.

  He smiled and they continued onward to the À La Carte restaurant. It was adjacent to the Café Parisen which had become the gathering place for many of the younger adult first class passengers. Harry hoped that they could retire to the Café Parisen after the formal dinner so he could have some alone time with Juliette. Mikhaeli had assumed the very French sounding name after she had boarded in Cherbourg.

  The À La Carte restaurant was an added
luxury for the first class passengers. The fine meals were an added expense as they were not included in their fares. The room's décor was distinctly in the Louis XIV style with floor to ceiling French light, brown walnut paneling. The moldings and specially mounted ornaments gave the room a regal aura. At the center of each panel hung a candle-style lamp which added an additional touch of class. An orchestra played as the dinner party had gathered at their table.

  Bruce Ismay, the chairman of White Star Line, sat at the head of the table. He was a dark-haired, middle aged man with a very distinctive handlebar moustache. The image of the Titanic, a grand luxury liner, was by his design. He smiled as he saw the beautiful face of Mikhaeli approaching. She truly belonged aboard this vessel as she was as marvelous as the ship itself.

  "Ah Miss Rougeau, I am so pleased that you could join us," he said to Mikhaeli as he stood and bowed.

  "It is my honor to dine with you," Mikhaeli lied. She would have rather dined on him than with him.

  Harry placed Mikhaeli between Bruce Ismay and his mother; Mrs. Eleanor Whitner. His father, Mr. George Whitner, sat on Mr. Ismay's right. Harry sat next to his father so he could make eye contact with his beautiful companion. He winked at her and she blushed. She looked away sheepishly.

  They ate an absolutely delicious meal as they drank the finest of wines. Mikhaeli only drank the wine. She claimed that she wasn't overly hungry. She was simply avoiding touching the silverware. Soft music was provided by the orchestra as they chatted about anything that came into their minds. Bruce Ismay did most of the talking as he bragged about the ship. He even provided details about the construction of the Titanic's sister ship—Gigantic.

  "Mr. Ismay," George asked, "Is this ship truly unsinkable?"

  "That is the plan," Bruce Ismay responded.

  "I would hope that you aren't purposely planning to sink the ship," Mikhaeli joked.

  Everyone at the table immediately turned and stared at Mikhaeli. She could sense that according to their traditions and protocols, she was only supposed to be seen and not heard. Mikhaeli, however, wasn't going to be someone's eye candy or arm decoration. She ignored their stares and her gaze fell on Bruce Ismay. The chairman threw his head back and laughed.

  "No, my dear, I don't plan on sinking the ship. She cost too much to build," he said as he smiled.

  The rest of the table joined his laugh. Mikhaeli thought that it was very typical behavior for the upper classes. They followed along like sheep to hopefully impress the wealthiest at the table. She joined their laughter, but, in reality, she was mocking them. They didn't know that she was the wealthiest person at the table. Bruce Ismay's vast wealth was severely dwarfed by her overflowing coffers.

  "So what is a young woman like you doing traveling by yourself?" George Whitner asked.

  "Yes, please tell us," Harry urged as he wanted to get to know his dinner companion quite intimately.

  She smiled and all the male eyes immediately fell on her. "I have family in Massachusetts. I am moving there to attend Radcliffe College in the fall," she answered.

  "But my dear," Mrs. Whitner said in her best condescending tone, "This ship isn't stopping in Massachusetts."

  Mikhaeli laughed. "Someone of your social standing must realize that my family, with our immense wealth, would have a presence in all major American cities."

  Harry chuckled and Bruce Ismay smiled. However, Mrs. Whitner could not hide her embarrassment. "Yes, I would imagine so," she said as she began to fan herself with the fan that she had just removed from her handbag. "Will we be served another bottle of wine soon?" she asked Bruce Ismay.

  "I would imagine so," Mikhaeli said as she smiled.

  If she had pondered the idea of having any real plans for a future with Harry, they had all vanished. Mrs. Whitner was rapidly developing quite a distain for their young French guest. Mikhaeli enjoyed every second of it. She loved watching her squirm. Her embarrassment was complete when her son, who had just watched her be embarrassed in front of her wealthy peers, winked a Mikhaeli who blushed and winked back at him.

  Bruce Ismay was about to speak when they were joined at the table by Thomas Andrews. He was the naval architect and Harland and Wolff's, the shipyard that built the Titanic, construction manager and head of the design department. The dark-haired man in his late thirties smiled at everyone at the table.

  "I hope that I am not interrupting," Mr. Andrews stated.

  "Not at all," Bruce Ismay stated. "I was just telling everyone about the ship and its wonderful design. A design that I must credit to you."

  Applause broke out at the table. Thomas Andrew smiled and held up his hand. "I humbly thank you, but Mr. Ismay should accept all of the praise. It is one thing to design a ship, but someone else has to have the vision and the resources to make it possible."

  Bruce Ismay smiled at his friend. "I don't recall a planned mutual admiration society meeting, Thomas. Please sit and join us for a drink," Ismay urged.

  "As much as I would love to join these fine people in a celebration of the finest ship ever built, I must ask if I can speak with you regarding our next endeavor. I believe that it requires our immediate attention. Captain Smith is waiting in the dining room," Andrews said.

  Bruce Ismay stood. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I am embarrassed. I had completely forgotten about the meeting that I had planned with Mr. Andrews and Captain Smith," he said.

  "Is everything okay?" Mrs. Whitner asked.

  Mr. Andrews smiled. "Everything is fine, ma'am, I assure you. To put your mind at ease, we are discussing our next ship. Since Captain Smith is in charge of this ship, we are asking him about his observations so we could even improve on this luxurious vessel."

  "Oh," she said excitedly, "The next one is even better than this one?"

  Mr. Andrews smiled at her again. "If I have anything to say about it, yes, it will be."

  Bruce Ismay gave a short bow. "I thank you for a lovely evening and I look forward to dining with you again."

  Mr. Andrews motioned with his hand. "After you, my friend," he said to Mr. Ismay.

  "Your council and your wisdom are beyond reproach," Ismay said as both men headed towards the main door.

  Mikhaeli spied both of them. Their conversation seemed rehearsed. A meeting with Captain Smith so soon into a voyage seemed highly unusual. A more logical meeting would be on the return trip from New York City. They would have witnessed the ship at full power and throughout an entire voyage. The ship had only been at sea for two days. What could be the most pressing need? she wondered. Her curiosity and her instincts told her that she must be privy to their conversation.

  She stood. "It seems that I too must retire for the evening. The wine was wonderful, but alas I am still not feeling well."

  Harry stood. "I will escort you to your cabin."

  She smiled. "I thank you, but you should stay and rejoice with your family. I will be fine."

  "Can't handle the seas?" Mrs. Whitner asked suspiciously.

  "No, I can handle the seas. The air in here seems quite…stale at the moment," Mikhaeli said before she bowed. "Thank you again for the lovely evening."

  "Hrrmmpph," Mrs. Whitner said.

  Mikhaeli smiled as she walked away. I will need to feed on that bitch, she thought as she worked her way towards the door. She stopped and turned around. She caught Harry's attention and blew a kiss to him. He pretended to catch it. He winked at her and she smiled again. She turned away and walked out the door. That should piss her off, she thought merrily.

  She walked slowly towards the dining hall. She could see Ismay and Andrews ahead of her. She smiled at the passing male passengers who would take in her beauty. She was suspicious of both Ismay and Andrews. Why would Ismay forget about a meeting with Andrews and the Captain? she thought. If I was the chairman of White Star Line, I wouldn't forget about a meeting with the Captain. Also, I'd have more purple. This ship is so bland.

  Moments later, Ismay and Andrews arrived at the first class dining hall. I
nstead of being inside and seated as she would expect, Captain Smith was standing outside of the main dining hall doors. He was flanked by members of his crew. They all smiled and shook hands with the passengers as they entered into the dining hall. Captain Smith engaged in small talk prior to being ushered into the dining hall by his crew members. Ismay and Andrews also engaged in small talk with several passengers before they also entered into the dining hall. Mikhaeli followed.

  Inside the dining hall, Captain Smith and his party was led not to the main table, but rather a corner table away from the majority of those first class passengers who were still dining. The hour was getting late and most passengers had begun to return to their cabins for the evening. All five men were seated at a table that held six. Mikhaeli thought that too was highly suspicious.

  She approached the maître d'. The middle-aged man, like all men who noticed her approaching, smiled. She smiled back and licked her lips. The maître d' adjusted his collar. Like most men, he had never seen such beauty. Mikhaeli knew that this would be easy.