Blood Reign

by Harvey W. McCarthy

  "I've watched him run headlong into a nest of vampires without giving a second thought to his own well-being. I cannot imagine him being afraid of anything," he added honestly.

  Larry chuckled. "Would it shock you to hear that I was afraid of speaking in front of people?"

  David's expression couldn't have been more shocked if he had been acting. His eyes widened and he stared directly at Larry. "You?"

  "Your voice and your expression are both saying 'Are you shitting me?'"

  "Are you?"

  "No, absolutely not. I hated speaking in front of people and part of me still does to this day. I just live with it. Right now, Chris is living in pure hell."

  "How can you tell?" David asked. "He looks like this when he is at home reading too. He looks completely content."

  "He is miserable. The comics take him away from reality. When he is at home, he reads to take him away from being a council warrior while having vampire blood pumping through his veins. On a plane, he completely absorbs himself into the comic so he can forget just how high he is in the air."

  "Amazing," David added. "Is there anything that we can do for him?"

  "He is fine. Before we had to drug him or he'd be clawing at the door to get out."

  "He threatened to open the door and throw me out. I can't imagine him being that scared."

  "He is. When you disturbed him, you took him out of his comfort zone. Let him eat and listen to his music."

  David shrugged. "Fine with me," he said as he resumed his meal. "I can't get over how good this is. I've never had a steak this good."

  Larry, who had continued eating, chewed slowly before replying. "Sorry, but I am enjoying this too much to respond. However, we do need to eat so we can have dessert."

  "There is dessert? How do you know?" David asked.

  "Do you really think that he would go through this much trouble without having dessert too?" Larry retorted.

  David swallowed his last of his vegetables. "I guess not, but why do you think he went through all of this trouble?"

  "Our last meal," Larry said without looking up.

  "Our last meal?" David replied.

  "Yes."

  The one word reply reverberated through his skull. He looked at his nearly finished meal. Could this be the last time that I see food? he wondered. Could the next meal be me for some vampire? His stomach soured and the food didn't seem as appetizing. He was suddenly aware of his own mortality. His eyes wandered over to Chris who wiped his mouth with his napkin. He was reading another comic. David became envious of the immortal man. Why does he get to live when he isn't even human?

  "Eat," Larry ordered.

  "W…What?" David stammered as Larry interrupted his thoughts.

  "Eat. I know what you are thinking and it means nothing," Larry said.

  "How do you know what I am thinking?"

  "It is all over your face, plus don't you think that I've thought of the same things before?"

  "I…I…"

  Larry smirked. "This is my fifth last meal."

  "Fifth?"

  Larry smirked. "Yes. Despite outward appearances, he cares deeply about friends and his fellow warriors. He's lost more than any of us."

  "How has he lost more than me when my best friend no longer breathes?" David asked angrily.

  "He no longer breathes, but he walks. What has he lost? For a man of the cloth losing his humanity is hell on Earth."

  "How?"

  Larry glared at David. "For a brilliant historian, you are being extremely naive at the moment. For those who spread God's word, they have one goal in life."

  "Yeah, to spread the word of God so others will follow in their footsteps," David said.

  "No, to one day walk with God and for someone who is undead…"

  "…that is impossible." David said as his voice trailed off as he glanced at Chris again.

  "So eat. It gives him one of the few pleasures that he has in life. Eat quickly before she shows up with the German chocolate cake," Larry said.

  "German chocolate cake?"

  "That's his favorite dessert."

  "Is that before or after the Bloody Mary?" David asked.

  Larry scowled at him. "That wasn't funny."

  "Sorry."

  The flight attendant had returned as David was placing his utensils on his plate. She smiled at both men and removed their plates. She placed a large wedge of cake in front of each man. David nearly drooled as she placed a bowl of vanilla ice cream next to their cake. Larry smiled at the flight attendant, but her attention was completely focused on David. Larry kicked him in the shin.

  "OW!" he complained. "What the f…"

  "Is there anything else that I could do for you?" she asked.

  "Ahhhh…er…no thank you," David stammered as he rubbed his shin.

  The flight attendant pouted. "Very well, if you need me for anything, anything at all, please press the call button."

  Larry coughed. "There is one more thing," he said as he removed a hundred dollar bill from underneath his table. "My extremely shy friend has been complimenting your service the entire trip. Would you please accept this as a token of his appreciation? I couldn't convince him to give it to you personally."

  She smiled sweetly. "Thank you…"

  "Ahhh…OW!" David complained as Larry kicked him again. "David."

  "Thank you, David," she said as she placed a note next to his plate before she walked away.

  Chris giggled.

  "What the hell?" David complained.

  The vampire hunter sat across the aisle from his friends. He merrily enjoyed his dessert as David glared at him. "Not very observant, are you?" Chris asked between bites. "Why did Larry ever pass you?"

  David glanced back and forth between both men. Larry giggled and Chris pretended as if nothing had happened. "What are you two talking about?"

  Chris swallowed and cleared his throat. "I am not the wisest man on the planet when it comes to women, but even I could see that she has taken a particular interest in you. She has leaned over you every time that she has served you and she was extremely disappointed that she could not stay and serve your drinks. You have been served first each and every time. She wasn't looking for a tip, but rather she was looking for your attention."

  "Yeah right," David scoffed. "Who would want this rat-faced troll?"

  Chris stood up and tossed the note into his lap. "I think her name is Stacy."

  David laughed but the folded note had opened as it fell. The name 'Stacy' was written in blue ink followed by a cell phone number. She had placed hearts between each number. David turned pale.

  "Ahh, wow," he said.

  "Now eat your ice cream before it melts lover boy," Chris teased.

  "Well," he said as he reached under his seat for his netbook, "I'll eat it after I find a nice restaurant in Halifax."

  "That will be after we research the connection between Damien Le Doux and the vampire queen," Larry ordered as he plucked the last of his cake from his fork.

  "Regarding?" Chris inquired.

  "His connection to the French and Indian War," Larry replied.

  "Don't bother," Chris said. "She isn't his sire, but his involvement goes deeper than just that war."

  Both men glared at the vampire hunter. Their jaws fell in unison.

  "I think you'd better call for more dessert," Chris said.

  CHAPTER 19

  LOUISIANA C1775

  The Seven Years War often referred to as the French and Indian War, had ended over a decade ago, but the mental wounds were deep and fresh. During the war, French colonists from the region of French North America, known as Acadia, had been deported from their homes. Fearing that they, the French colonists, would side with France, the British cast the French settlers out of the region. Many would return after the war, but several thousand continued their migration to the south.

  The aftermath of the war saw France cede most of its territory east of the Mississippi River to England. F
rance had only retained the parishes around Lake Pontchartrain and the area around New Orleans. The remaining lands of Louisiana became a Spanish colony. During Spanish rule, circa 1765, many of those same Frenchspeaking refugees, known as Acadians, settled in Louisiana. They were welcomed by the Spanish as they wanted more Catholic settlers.

  One of those settlers was a woman named Marianne Rousseau. She was thankful to have lost her land holdings in Acadia. She had wanted to leave the bitterly cold winters behind, but she would never receive a reasonable offer for her land. Because she was a woman, she was never treated fairly. Despite paying the other colonists to work her land, she was still a second-class citizen in their eyes. When the English threw her off of her land, she found safe passage to the French colonies to the south. When the war ended, she had purchased land and she quickly became one of the wealthiest settlers in the colony. She was also the most feared.

  Her fellow colonists knew her as Marianne Rousseau which was her birth name, but for centuries, she had been known as Lady Medea Sangre: The Enchantress of Europe. Her exploits were legendary for their sexuality and their brutality. Her travels across continents had left death, destruction, and depression in their wake. She had seduced or raped princes and kings. She had manipulated the willing and the not-so-willing out of their amassed fortunes. Her land holdings rivaled kings and were only surpassed by her fellow remaining members of the Order of Twelve.

  Marianne Rousseau was the lover of the man who had become known as Lord Blackraven. When she became one of the original undead, she was the woman who had been performing sexual acts with Lord Blackraven on the night when their humanity was taken. As the years had passed, the other members of the Order of Twelve had begun to disappear. They had ruled the world for centuries until a mysterious warrior had appeared. When she had received word from Lord Blackraven that the Order of Twelve was being murdered, she fled to the New World by traveling during the winter months to avoid the sun. She found passage on several merchant ships and fed off of the livestock or ill crew members during the night.

  During her stay in the Northern French colonies, she had been miserable. The winters were harsh and cold. The summer months in Acadia were humid and wet. The humid climate brought biting insects that fought with her for the blood of the colonists. The land, while fertile, was difficult to work and the growing season was short. Therefore, she often went days between meals. She couldn't feed merrily like she could in Europe. Colonists were not coming to the French colonies like they were to the colonies to the south. When she was deported, she pretended that she wanted to kiss the English general in charge. She ate him instead. He had still taken away her home, but more importantly he was a fresh meal.

  Since she had arrived in Louisiana, she marveled at the number of Spanish and French settlers that were coming to the land. The poor souls who were looking for a new start became willing pawns in her game. Families, who needed assistance in transitioning to the New World, willingly helped her when she sent out messengers with the promise of gold and silver to work her land. Mysteriously, they would disappear, but she always had the title to their land. Eventually, she had amassed great tracks of land and the settlers often ended up as her employees. When questions arose about the legality of the ownership of her land, she would send her minions forth into the towns and villages to eliminate any prying eyes or dissident voices.

  As night fell on the beautiful countryside, Lady Sangre stretched. She had arisen from her daily slumber. Her body was weak and she was famished. Her vampire blood screamed for nourishment and her body had withered. It had been two days since she had fed. Like her time in Acadia, her feeding patterns had become infrequent. She noted everything that she had learned about her infrequent feeding patterns in her tome. It was educational but more so it was a way of keeping herself from being distracted by her raging hunger. Each time that she fed, she would have to travel further and further away from her home to prevent suspicion of her true nature. However, those minions that she had turned into vampires also needed food. She had created her own competition and the locals had become wary.

  Due to her fear that the council had placed warriors amongst the settlers traveling to the New World, she dressed herself in tattered clothes not to raise suspicion. If she were to walk the streets in her finest clothes, she would draw unwanted attention to herself. She knew that her beauty would draw the eyes of many men, but she was weak. Wealthy people were always well fed and they had extended girths to flaunt their social standing. Tonight, as she ventured into New Orleans, a port town, she needed to look poor to match her gaunt features. She had truly become a lady of the evening.

  As she slipped through the shadows, she remembered what her messengers had told her. Several ships from the colonies had recently arrived to drop off trade goods. Usually, traders were followed to port by pirates: The sailors who were the scourge of the seas. As she emerged from the shadows in the finest ratty clothes that she owned, she entered the establishment where she knew that she would find a mate for the evening: The local pub.

  Watering holes were the favorite places for pirates and traders to spend their gotten or ill-gotten gains. For the owners of the taverns and pubs in the ports around the colonies, they didn't care as long as the gold and silver coins or the various monetary notes accepted in the colonies kept filling their coffers. As Lady Sangre stepped through the doors of the pub, several eyes turned to her. The wealthy traders cringed and turned away, but many of the pirates kept their eyes on her. She smiled and swayed towards them.

  A Spanish pirate immediately tried to jump to his feet, but in his drunken state, he stumbled and knocked three of his fellow crew members off of their stools. They all fell to the floor and began to laugh. They had soon forgotten about the lovely lady who had just made an appearance. They began to laugh and sing. Lady Sangre couldn't determine if they all knew the words to the song that they were attempting to sing or if they were even singing the same song. She, however, did notice the ruggedly handsome man who was sitting with the fallen, drunken pirates. Their eyes met and she swayed over to him.

  "Friends of yours?" she asked sweetly.

  "Employees," the Welsh pirate captain replied.

  Jackpot, she thought. She giggled. "Are you a merchant?"

  The pirate captain smirked. "Upstairs," he replied as he tossed a gold coin to the barkeep.

  "Upstairs?" she asked.

  The pirate captain stood and grabbed her wrist. He turned her hand over and dropped three gold coins into her hand. He closed her hand over them.

  "You only gave me one," the barkeep protested.

  "Yeah, but what she is going to give me is a lot more enjoyable than that swill you call rum," the pirate captain replied.

  Lady Sangre smiled. "For three coins, that is for certain. Care to lead the way?"

  The pirate captain took her by the hand and he led her to the staircase. She giggled playfully. When they reached the bottom of the stairwell, she lifted her dress and she dashed up the stairs. The pirate slapped her buttocks much to the delight of his crew. Cheers arose.

  "COOK!" they yelled in unison before breaking back into song.

  "Cook?" she asked as he reached the top of the stairs.

  "Captain Edward Cook," he said as he took her hand and kissed it.

  "Marianne," she said sweetly.

  He led her to a room at the end of the long hallway. Laughter and several screams could be heard as they passed the rooms that were provided by the pub owner. Several walls shook as several sailors had already found playmates for the evening. Lady Sangre smiled as he opened the door to an empty room. She swayed into the sparsely furnished room and she sat down on the bed. She smiled. Captain Cook closed the door behind her and he slid the deadbolt in place. Her smile disappeared.

  "Did you bring it?" she inquired.

  Captain Cook smiled and strolled confidently to the lone closet door. He opened the door and a frightened young woman, who was bound and gagged, was huddled i
n a corner. Her eyes were filled with fright. Two small puncture wounds marred her neck. The vampire pirate smiled lustfully as he reached in the closet and pulled the frightened young woman from her makeshift prison. She screamed.

  "COOK!" the pirates drunkenly screamed as they had confused the young girl's screams of fright for those of pleasure.

  "The walls in this place are mighty thin," Lady Sangre stated.

  "But the clientele is quite tasty," Cook stated as his vampire visage appeared.

  "It seems that you are already well fed," she complained. "This one is mine."

  The teenage girl was frightened. The girl started to cry as the vampire rose from the bed and strolled towards her. She looked into the eyes of the trembling girl. The scent of her blood was intoxicating. It filled her nostrils and she too began to tremble. The excitement of the pending feed had overwhelmed her.