Blood Reign

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Blood Reign Page 30

by Harvey W. McCarthy


  Despite being denied his civil rights, Beaumarchais continued his work for the council. During his secret discussions with King Louis XVI and his advisors, they learned that the colonies were on the verge of rebellion. While France was interested in the possibility of having their colonies lost during the Seven Years War returned, the potential threat of vampires traveling to the New World and destroying the colonies was a growing fear. If the colonies remained separate and became self-governed; they would not have the potential resources to combat a growing vampire nation. The council needed all countries to be united in stopping the spread of the undead. If England proclaimed martial law and took firm control of their colonies in British America, then their troops would be focused on maintaining control in a volatile land instead of protecting their citizens from vampires. Finally, both parties realized that angry citizens were potential prey for vampires and offered them an easy way to increase their numbers. Angry people were often easily swayed when evil told them exactly what they wanted to hear.

  After several secret meetings, it was determined that France should invite the colonies to send a potential ambassador to their country while Beaumarchais established his own support system. Beaumarchais established Roderigue Hortalez and Company as a front company to send money to the colonies on behalf of the French Crown. He secured millions from both France and Spain and the council to support the colonies. When the colonies declared their independence on July 4, 1776, Beaumarchais smiled. The colonies were united and, with funding support from its European allies, posed a powerful deterrent to the undead. He believed that the council's interests had been secured. A visit, later that night, changed the course of the war.

  Beaumarchais sat at his desk in the offices of Roderigue Hortalez and Company. He had poured wine into a golden chalice. It had been a gift from a council warrior who had taken it as a trophy from a vampire that he had recently killed. Beaumarchais had it washed with holy water and blessed by a priest before he had placed it on his mantle. It had retained its perch until he had determined that it should be used to celebrate a great victory over the forces of darkness. Potentially preventing the undead from ruling the New World by the establishment of the United States of America was a reason to celebrate.

  The thin faced man lifted the chalice to his narrow nose and inhaled. He held the chalice skyward as a toast. "To your glory and to victory," he said, in his native tongue, before he took a sip of the rare and expensive wine.

  "To what are we celebrating?" a French female voice asked.

  Startled, Beaumarchais spilled his red wine onto the ruffles of his fine, white shirt. He coughed as the strong red liquid found his lungs. He placed the chalice on his desk as he coughed and wiped his shirt.

  "Damn it woman," he growled through a cough, "You've ruined my shirt."

  Lady Sangre laughed. "I have done nothing of the sort. I simply asked a question and you were startled. I didn't know asking a question caused fright these days."

  "You know what I mean," he growled as he angrily removed his shirt. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

  She chuckled again as she swayed towards his bottle of wine. "I believe that I asked a question. If you answer mine, I will answer yours," she replied as she took a crystal glass and poured herself a glass of wine.

  Angrily, Beaumarchais tossed his shirt onto his desk. He grabbed his coat and placed it over his partially naked body. He retrieved his chalice and sipped his wine. She smiled sweetly at him as she sipped his expensive wine.

  "Please be my guest," he said.

  "Thank you," she said sweetly. "My question?"

  "I closed a business deal," he growled. "Now, who are you before I have you arrested for invading my privacy?"

  She swallowed her wine before laughing merrily. "That was humorous."

  His anger grew. He swallowed the rest of his wine and slammed the chalice roughly onto his desk. "I do not find your presence humorous."

  "No darling," she said sweetly, "Your comment was humorous. I cannot be arrested for invasion of privacy. You said yourself that this is a business. It is a business, correct?"

  "I believe it is your turn to answer a question," he said.

  She laughed again as he had used her own play on words against her. "Correct. I am Madame Rousseau and I am here to verify that this is indeed a business."

  "Well said," he replied. "Yes, it is a business."

  "Legitimate business?" she pressed.

  He scowled. He angrily grabbed his chalice and strutted to his bottle of wine. He filled the chalice. "Madame, you have offended me. Of course my business is legitimate. Now, I will kindly ask you to leave."

  She sipped her wine and she approached the door. "Very well, Mr. Beaumarchais, I will believe you when you say that your business is legitimate. However, I wonder if the council approves of your doubledealings involving the colonies."

  She smiled as she felt him approaching. She slowly opened the door, but it stopped when Beaumarchais placed his hand on it. He pushed the door closed as she released her grip on the brass handle. She smiled at him. His expression had changed from angry to inquisitive.

  "Madame, I believe that have I spoken too hastily. Please accept my apologies and join me for a drink," he said softly as the door closed.

  "My pleasure," she said as she swayed back to the middle of the room. She sat down in a large comfortable chair as he bolted the door.

  He took her glass and refilled it. He sat down next to her and stared at Lady Sangre. He handed her the refilled glass. She sipped her wine. Her eyes met his stare. She smiled sweetly.

  "Why thank you," she said.

  Beaumarchais didn't smile. He continued to stare. He sipped his wine. He cleared his throat. "What do you know of the council?" he demanded.

  She laughed before she put her glass to her lips. "I know what I needed to know."

  He glared at her.

  She licked her lips seductively. "Why don't know tell me what else that I need to know and then we will call it even?" she asked before she sipped her wine.

  "The council is…" he paused. He shook his head several times. If he had a Bible in his hand, he would swear to God that her voice hadn't come from her lips but rather was imbedded directly into his brain. "I am not going to tell you anything."

  She leaned forward and placed her hand on his knee. Their eyes locked. Beaumarchais became lost in the beautiful brown orbs. He couldn't pull himself away. Something in the most primal parts of his brain wanted this woman who had angered and embarrassed him. However, she had suddenly become even more beautiful. He found it very hard to resist leaping from his chair and ripping off her clothes.

  "Yes," she said sweetly, "You are going to tell me everything that I need to know about the council."

  "The council wants to prevent vampires from overthrowing the colonies if there is a war," he said slowly.

  She put her glass to her lips and threw her head back. She slammed the expensive wine in celebration. "Now, you are going to tell me the location of the lost tomes of the Order of Twelve," she ordered as their eyes locked again.

  Slowly, he placed his chalice to his lips. He began to drink. Sangre realized that he was following her movements. She reached out and took the golden chalice from his hands.

  "No need for…"

  She dropped the chalice and hissed. The red wine flowed like blood as it slipped from the golden cup. A large stain marred the expensive imported rug that had been a gift from King Louis XVI. The chalice had burned into her hand. She screamed in agony.

  "GODDAMN IT!" she bellowed as she fell to her knees and clutched her hand.

  Beaumarchais shook his head as her seduction spell had been broken. His eyes fell on the demonic face of the vampire. "HEATHEN!" he screamed as he leapt out of his chair.

  She hissed. The throbbing pain in her hand made it impossible to speak. Beaumarchais dashed to his wine rack. He pressed a button and a secret compartment opened. He retrieved a cross and a stake.
He turned to face the vampire as she slowly rose to her feet.

  "In his name, I vanquish thee to hell," he said as he charged.

  Lady Sangre tried to focus. He swung his stake wildly at her heart and she barely dodged his attack. His battle style was sloppy and unfocused. He wasn't a warrior. Something about the chalice and the cross had rendered her nearly helpless. She should already be drinking his blood, but she continued look away and she clutched her injured hand.

  "I must thank Father Bergeron for blessing my chalice and bathing it in holy water," he said as he smiled. "I will have to bring him your fangs as a gift."

  "Fuck you holy man," she sheered.

  The religious warrior cringed when he heard the vampire utter her curse. "I see you have read John Ash's work. Like you, that vulgar trash needs to be burned."

  She hissed again and swung her good hand at Beaumarchais. He blocked it with his stake hand and thrust his cross into her right cheek. Her skin sizzled and she howled. She leapt backwards. She pressed her burned hand to her charred face. A tear formed from the pain. She leapt behind his desk. She stared at him. He smiled.

  "Time to die, demon," he sneered.

  The deadbolt slid backwards. Beaumarchais snapped his head around to face the door. The beautiful wooden door flew open. Captain Cook and three members of his crew entered the room. The three pirates charged Beaumarchais. The frightened council warrior held up the cross but he was met by a hard punch from the human pirate. Within seconds, he was restrained and placed onto his desk. The vampire visage of Captain Cook stood over him.

  "Hmmm," the Welsh pirate said, "I've never had much of a taste for French food but there is always an exception."

  Beaumarchais screamed.

  "Don't you dare touch him," Lady Sangre ordered.

  Cook immediately backed away as his wounded superior strolled towards the restrained warrior. Beaumarchais glared at Sangre before he spat in the face of the closest pirate.

  "Traitor," he sneered as he realized that the pirates were humans.

  The pirate wiped his face before punching Beaumarchais in the jaw. Blood flew from the stunned council member's face. "I am only loyal to money and they pay better," the pirate said as he rubbed his hand.

  Cook smelled the blood and growled.

  "There will be time for that later," she ordered as she swayed to face him.

  "You will have to kill me before you get anything out of me. Your little spell won't work again," he scoffed.

  "You are right," she said before she leapt onto him and feed viciously.

  The dying Beaumarchais screamed.

  * * *

  Beneath the City of Paris was the famous ossuary where those who had perished within the city limits had been laid to rest. From the very rich to the very poor, their remains were kept beneath the city. When the catacombs began to overflow, they were closed. The location, which was south of the old city gates, had become a minor tourist attraction. However, the very deep and darkest regions of the catacombs had not been seen by any human eyes for decades. It was those areas where the undead moved freely from one end of the city to the other.

  Lady Sangre hated the catacombs. They were dark, damp and reeked of rotted human remains. While she was an agent of death, she preferred humans alive. Most humans smelled in life due to their lack of proper bathing rituals, but they tasted much better when they were alive. She only spent time underground when it was her only available avenue to avoid the sun. Alas, there was one more reason to stay below the surface.

  A lone hand broke the surface of the hastily prepared grave. As proper vampire etiquette dictated, the sire must tend to their brood. For the past three days, she had bathed the soil with a mixture of her blood and the fresh blood of human sacrifices to nourish the body. Slowly, the naked, gaunt body of Pierre-Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais broke the surface of the soil. He spat the bloodied soil from his mouth as he crawled along the ground. Painfully, he tried to stand but his weakened state could not support his frail frame.

  Lady Sangre smiled. "Welcome to our world, Pierre," she said.

  He spat. "What have you done to me?" he said as he struggled to get to his feet.

  Lady Sangre rolled her eyes. "Why do they always say that?" she asked sarcastically.

  He reached for her but he was still too weak to stand. "I have nightmares."

  "Yes, you do," she said as she snapped her fingers.

  Beaumarchais heard a scream. Captain Cook appeared from the shadows. His three most trusted pirates, who were now dressed in finer clothes, dragged a struggling woman. Her eyes were filled with fright. Pierre had seen this woman before. She worked in the market near his office. He had purchased fruit from her. She was always nice to him and she had a family. His heart called out to her. She was terrified.

  "Help me," she begged.

  "Let her go," he demanded.

  The pirates tossed her at his feet as he finally found the strength to stand. Lady Sangre watched intently. Captain Cook, with his hands hooked inside his belt, stood silently. The three pirates stood around the woman so she could not escape. She shivered. The catacombs were damp and cold. The only light was provided by the torches that adorned the walls. She frantically looked from side to side for any way to escape. All paths led into darkness. Cook chuckled and his pirates joined him in laughter. Their laughter echoed throughout the catacombs. Lady Sangre stared at Beaumarchais.

  "Do you hear it?" she asked over the echoing laughter.

  Beaumarchais was confused. The laughter echoed throughout the catacombs and filled his ears, but he could hear something else through the din: A heartbeat. The sound was very faint at first, but the sound slowly grew and grew until it thundered like a thousand drums. His head thumped and rocked as if a powerful thunderstorm had filled his brain. He covered his ears with his hands and screamed. The woman shivered and then screamed as his fangs grew.

  He hissed and stared at her. He could smell her. He could feel the frightened blood rapidly pumping through her veins as her heart raced. She tried to scramble backwards, but she was pinned down by the soiled, naked form of Beaumarchais. He ripped off her tattered dress. His vampire form had taken over. His fangs violently tore into her throat. Moments later, she was drained of her life force and his tear filled eyes looked to Lady Sangre for answers.

  "Toss her in with the others," she ordered.

  Without responding, the pirates grabbed the dead woman by the arms and legs and carried her into the darkness. Captain Cook nodded to his superior. He waited until she had returned the nod before he followed his men into the shadows.

  "Rise," she ordered.

  Without thinking, Pierre stood. He felt powerful. The blood had tasted like the finest wines in all of France. He had never felt so replenished after a meal. Lady Sangre stared at him. He could feel her undead heart beating. He could smell her blood. It smelled differently from the woman's blood but it called to him. He bared his fangs and he hissed. He leapt at her.

  "Stop," she ordered.

  He froze in place.

  "You may speak," she commanded.

  "H…How?"

  "I am your sire. I created you. Until my death, your actions can be controlled by me if I so desire. Be thankful that you are here. Cook would have eaten you and tossed you away. However, I have other uses for you."

  "I will never serve thee. I am a member of the council."

  She smiled sweetly and swayed to him. She was dressed in her finest clothes that accented her feminine features. "Yes, you are and that is what you will do for me. You will continue to be a member of the council. You will report their activities to me. Then you will accompany Captain Cook as he will take you to the colonies. There you will continue to fund their rebellion."

  "Yes, My Lady," he said without thinking.

  "Very good," she said. "However, I have one last order."

  "Yes, My Lady," he said again.

  "I detest the name Pierre. From this day forth, your name will be
Damien Le Doux."

  "Yes, My Lady."

  "Now go and find Captain Cook. He will take you back to your council this evening. You are to kill whoever you find before heading to his ship."

  "Yes, My Lady," he said as he wandered into the darkness.

  She smiled as he disappeared.

  * * *

  Lady Sangre returned to her French castle after Cook and Le Doux had begun their voyage to the colonies. Part of her missed the New World. The water was clean and the night air was fresh. The streets of the towns were not congested and dirty, but there were a lot less people which made it more difficult to find victims at night without drawing any unwanted attention. She told Cook to voyage back to France after the war had begun in the colonies. With the war raging, people wouldn't notice when people died. It was expected in war.

 

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