Ca-Click! Ca-Click! Ca-Click!
She had told him that she controlled his friend. He was a very willing puppet. She said that she felt a sense of euphoria spring from his body when he fired the crossbow. The wooden bolt missed his heart but the intense pain crippled his senses. She was able to strike. The powerful blow sent him into the same darkness that now surrounded him. He didn't know whether it was his failure to strike her down or the unknown fate of his friends that haunted him the most.
The door to his cabin opened. The light from the hallway illuminated the room. The sudden bright light pierced his eyes like the crossbow bolt had done to his shoulder. He squinted to identify his visitor. The shapely female silhouette against the bright background was all that he needed to know. The queen had arrived again. He sighed and turned his head away from the light.
"Leave us," she said to her unseen minion.
"Yes, My Queen," the raspy voiced minion replied.
She reached inside the door and turned on the lights. The room illuminated. She carried a tray in her hands. As she entered the room, her male minion closed the door behind her. Her high-heeled leather boots clicked along the floor of the cabin. Her steps rhythmically joined the clicks from the wheels. Chris glanced at her and then he looked away. She swayed towards him. She placed the tray on the small table next to his bed. She sat next to him. He tried to shift away, but his shackles held him firmly in place.
"I brought your dinner," she said softly.
"Why don't you just kill me?" he asked.
She pouted. "Can't I be nice to you?"
He laughed sarcastically and he looked at her. "You? Nice? You are the most brutal monster on the planet."
She pouted again and slapped him. Stars filled his vision. Her slap was more powerful than a solid punch from any of her minions. He shook his head to clear his vision. When it cleared, she sat with her legs and her arms crossed. A small drop of blood trickled from his lip. Her angered expression vanished.
"I'll get that," she said excitedly.
She leaned over and smiled. She slowly extended her tongue. She dragged her tongue up his neck and along his chin. She softly kissed the blood from his chin. She moaned softly. She pressed her lips on his bleeding lower lip. She sucked softly. His blood tasted like sweet nectar. She became excited, but she resisted. She sucked on his lower lip as she pulled away. She smiled.
"Mmmmmm," she moaned.
"Enjoying yourself?" he asked sarcastically.
"Mmmmm hmmmm," she said.
"So why are you here?" he asked tiredly.
She smiled. "It's time for dinner," she said cheerfully as she removed a blood filled glass from the tray, "Open up."
She held her hand behind his head and lifted. She placed the glass to his lips. The smell of the fresh blood was intoxicating. He drank greedily. He felt stronger with each sip. His chest muscles rippled. His vampire soul burned. His dark side, which he had fought to suppress, grew rapidly. He could feel his muscles bulging. He growled.
She pulled the glass away. He desperately licked droplets from his lips. He panted as his body had barely received nourishment. She placed the glass back onto the tray. She ripped opened his shirt and she watched his muscular chest rise and fall. She rubbed her hands up and down his bare skin.
"Impressive," she said lustfully.
"W…W…Water," he panted.
She giggled. She picked up the second glass from the tray. She lifted his head again and she allowed him a quick drink. He held the drink in his mouth as he silently said the holy water prayer. While it was not true holy water, it would allow him to retain his humanity. However, he didn't know how much longer he could hold out. He swallowed and panted harder. She placed the glass back onto the try and she resumed her rubbing.
"Now where were we?" she asked sweetly.
"I don't think that we were anywhere," he said wearily.
She kissed his chest softly. She laid her chin on his chest and smiled at him. He gave her a crooked smile. She kissed his chest again. She bit him softly and drew blood. She licked the wound before looking up at him again.
"We were at the point where you were going to tell me where the last tome is hidden," she said sweetly.
Chris sighed. "I can't tell you," he said.
Her anger grew, but she ignored it. She slid her entire body on top of him and kissed him softly. She rubbed his face. "Can't or won't?" she asked.
"Both."
She sat up and grabbed the glass of water from the tray. She threw it in his face
"ASSHOLE," she screamed.
She slid from the bed and stomped her way to the door. She flicked the light off as she opened the door. She nearly tore the door from its hinges as she stomped into the hallway. She angrily slammed the door behind her.
Chris licked the water from his face. He turned his head and sucked as much water as he could from his pillow. He said his prayer again and swallowed the tiny mouthful of water.
"My Lord, why doesn't she just kill me?" he asked.
He prayed for an ending.
* * *
Mikhaeli had angrily stomped her way through the entire train. She had shoved any minion, who just happened to be nearby, out of her way. One unfortunate minion noticed that she was visibly upset and stopped her as she headed to her private car. Instead of thanking him for his concern, she dragged him to the meal car. Normally, chefs would be hard at work preparing meals for the passengers but the car was simply blood storage on the vampire controlled train. However, the chef knives were still readily available. As her minions watched, she cut off his hand and drank his blood. She spat the blood in the face of another minion before tossing the hand in the trash. She resumed her angry march to her private car.
She nearly ripped another door from its hinges as she crossed from the blood storage car to her private car. Her fuming did not subside when she was in her private car. Once more, she nearly ripped the door from its hinges and then she slammed it angrily as she stepped inside her private abode. Even the sight of her designer décor, heavily accented in various shades of purple, and her private blood wine stock did nothing to calm her enraged state.
She quickly strutted over to her private bar. She passed her blood wine collection and she grabbed a bottle of rum. She ripped the cap from the bottle and she tilted her head back. The amber liquid streamed into her mouth. She swallowed it greedily. When the bottle was empty, she threw it across her car. It hit a wall and shattered on impact. She grabbed a bottle of whiskey and repeated her debauchery. Soon the charcoal filtered whiskey bottle was empty and it was also hurled across the room. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and leaned on her bar. Slowly, she calmed herself.
She sighed loudly. She shrugged and she admired her refrigerated blood wine collection. Her wine masters were brilliant. They had discovered a way to preserve the freshness of the blood while combining it with some of the finest wines in the world. Unlike real wines, its shelf life was limited to the freshness of the blood. The oldest blood wine that she'd had was almost sixty days old. It was extremely rare for it to remain fresh for any longer than sixty days. It had a slightly tart taste that she preferred. She ordered several bottles to be frozen to retain its flavor. Unfortunately, she didn't have the patience to wait for a bottle to thaw. She opened her refrigerated cabinet and removed a chilled bottle of forty day old blood wine. This will do, she thought.
She opened a cabinet and removed one of her vintage golden chalices. They were inspired by the same golden chalices from which she had first tasted human blood. She removed the cork from the wine bottle and she gently filled her chalice. The dark red liquid called to her. She lifted the chalice to her lips and she allowed its aroma to fill her nostrils. She touched the chalice to her lips. She paused.
"No, no, no," she softly scolded herself. "If you are going to enjoy such a fine beverage, then you must complete the moment."
She walked to her large, plush chair and sat down. She placed her
chalice on the ancient table next to her. She smiled when she saw the glass and the cherry wood table. She sighed. She had killed its owner over a century ago. He had tried to take her land while she was in another country searching for a tome. She had returned home to discover that he had moved into her house. She wanted to torture him but she was too angry. She feed on him instead but she was impressed by his choice of décor. She sighed again at the wonderful memory.
"Now for the one thing that will make this moment complete," she said as she stood and stretched.
She walked to a large, old storage chest. It was a memento from her homeland. It had belonged to her father. The chest was several feet long, wide, and deep. Her father had used it to store most of their belongings when they moved from one town to the next until they came under Lord Viktor's rule. The large, deep chest was locked with a gold key. Locking it was a mere formality because not one of her minions would dare to open it unless they wanted to be dead. She inserted the key into the old lock and turned. She opened the lid and smiled. They were beautiful.
Her recently discovered tomes, including the extremely fragile tome recovered from the Titanic, filled her vision. Her 'techno geeks' as she called them had proved themselves to be quite useful. Not only had they converted the fragile tome into a digital format so she would be able to read it, but they had the book sealed in a plastic, airtight case. She wouldn't be able to open it again, but it would be preserved. The clear, airless container, allowed the book to be displayed with the rest of her collection. She removed her latest find and closed the lid.
She clutched the tome to her chest. She allowed the smell of the ancient book to invade her senses. They, after designer handbags and shoes, were the most beautiful things that had ever been created. She returned to her chair and she placed the tome on the table. She flopped down in the chair and raised the leg rest. She smiled.
"This can wait," she said as she pressed a button on the control to the chair.
The leg rest raised and conformed around her thighs. The back began to move. She moaned loudly. Her over-sized chair was a one of a kind, massaging chair that she had custom built after experiencing a massaging chair. The massaging mechanisms squeezed and rubbed her tired calves. The rotating mechanisms in the back rest rolled up and down her back. She arched her back and moaned loudly. Ten moan filled minutes later; she lowered the settings to a relaxing massage. She purred.
She lifted her chalice from the table and placed it to her lips. She sipped the bloody mixture. The delicious liquid tingled on her tongue. She didn't know if it was the two quarts of alcohol already pumping through her veins or the sensational massage from the chair, but her mood had completely changed. She sipped her wine again. She placed her chalice back on the table and she grabbed her tome. She placed it on her lap and rubbed her hand over the tattered leather cover. She smiled.
"Let's see what you have to tell me," she said as she opened the cover.
She read:
The Trials and Tribulations of Lady Sangre
She scoffed but she was pleased to see the name 'Lady Sangre.' Lord Blackraven's tome, the most elusive, still was not in her possession but she had always wondered what the most powerful female vampire of the Order of Twelve had placed in her daily thoughts. She turned the pages to the last third of the book. She had learned that most of the important information was always noted toward the end of their lives. She skimmed the pages until she saw a note that had caught her eye. She read:
October 11, 1685
Lord Blackraven, the love of my heart, but the distain of my soul. I love the man. Alas, his ideals of the vampire world, let's say I disagree. He wants to turn all humans into vampires. I disagree. We need humans.
After I left Blackraven, I moved to France. I was content. I had my minions, my growing wealth, and enough humans on which to feed. Until Louis, that bastard, took an interest in me or should I say my wealth, my life was good. The king didn't like that my wealth was growing and he wasn't receiving anything other than my share of the taxes. I was playing by his rules but he wanted more.
I couldn't meet the king during the day. I arranged to meet with the king in the evening. He was more interested in me than my money. When I refused his advances (such a disgusting man), he ordered me to turn over vast tracks of land and pay a large, what he called a 'tithe' for the benefit of the Crown. I scoffed and stormed out of the castle. I later learned of my mistake.
The king had ordered all of my ships seized. He had sent his soldiers to my castle and they arrested the few people that worked my land as traitors to the Crown. He said that they would be released once the tithe was paid. However, he did not know exactly who I was. I used that to my advantage.
That evening, I went into the city. I kept to the poor areas and the local taverns. I knew that I would find the people that I needed. I found a Captain named Cook. He was a privateer. He had no allegiance to any Crown. His allegiance was to gold. I paid him and his crew well. They immediately began to harass the king's soldiers and they fled to the ports. When on the open seas, they repeatedly harassed the king's ships and my wealth grew.
When the king learned that I was supporting Captain Cook, he sent his soldiers to arrest me. I never ate so well in all of my life. When they didn't return, he sent more soldiers. Their blood was even better than the last. When they didn't return, the king personally sent soldiers again. By the time that they had arrived, his first soldiers were now my minions. The battle was delicious.
The king called on me and I agreed to meet with him on his terms. He said that we no longer needed to feud. He said that he would forgive me if I paid the tithe. Pompous ass! I showed him my real face and he was more than willing to pay my tithe. My workers were returned and I paid them handsomely for their imprisonment. However, I had no way of communicating with Cook.
When Cook arrived many months later with the king's gold, I smiled. I told him that he could keep it, but he refused. He said that he and his crew had already been paid. This was my portion of their gain. I agreed and then I gave it back to him as payment for his continued employment. I told him to continue to harass any and all ships and he agreed.
He smiled and he was quite handsome. I thought about enjoying him but I realized his value. As a human, he could walk during the day. He could be my eyes and ears on the seas. I can only do that briefly. I needed an ally and I learned from Blackraven's ignorance that we had to work with humans. Yes, they are quite delicious, but we need some of them alive.
I do, however, look forward to my next meeting with Captain Cook.
Lady Sangre
Mikhaeli sipped her wine. She pondered what she had just finished reading. She had to admit that she had also learned the same lessons. The two geeks, who she had recently hired to convert her tome to be read on a digital e-book reader, were more valuable to her as humans than vampires. She adjusted the settings on her massaging chair. She purred again as the massagers hit all the right spots. She turned the pages on the tome until she found another reference to Captain Cook.
April 6, 1700
My poor Captain Cook. He returned to me after traveling to the African colonies. He was gaunt. His skin was white. He was feverish. I sent for a doctor who arrived later that day. The news was not good. He told the doctor that he had been bitten by a mosquito just as they left the Northern African colonies. He fell ill just as they arrived in France. Captain Cook, my Captain Cook, had malaria.
The doctor told me that Cook was going to die. I was angry. I adored my Captain Cook. I had resisted feeding on him many times. He was strong. He was worldly, but more importantly, he was a powerful ally. I was watching him waste away.
That night, after the doctor had retired for the evening, I went to Cook. He was shivering. The doctor had told me that he wouldn't last the night. I knew that I could not lose my beloved Captain Cook. I summoned a minion and we went about our task.
Cook did not know what was going on. I never had to reveal myself or my minio
ns to him. My minion fed and brought him near death. He drained the toxic blood from his system. I, in turn, gave my blood to Cook. Three days later, after carefully tending to his grave, Captain Cook rose. Unfortunately, the tainted blood infected my minion and he had to be staked. I did not want to lose a useful minion, but his sacrifice kept Cook in my world. Unlike Lord Blackraven, I learned that to be a strong leader, I must appreciate those around me like my Captain Cook.
Now, once he is strong, we will have to find a way to continue with his usefulness.
Lady Sangre
Mikhaeli was surprised. She had expected to learn some great power from the tome of Lady Sangre as she had with the others. However, she was learning something else: Leadership. Lady Sangre had maintained a human/vampire relationship with Captain Cook for fifteen years before she turned him into a vampire. Apparently, she had only turned him to keep him alive. She even seemed sad about the loss of a minion. Aren't they here to serve me? she thought, but she wondered if her line of thought could be the reason that she ended up with so many untrustworthy minions. Why would they be trustworthy if they didn't trust me? she wondered. She sipped her wine again as she turned the page. Unlike the other books, this one she couldn't put down.
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