However, she paid little attention to her expensive collection. One book, Lord Viktor's personal diary, which she had yet to finish prior her quest to find the tomes which had began centuries ago, trembled on the shelf. Her eyes stared blankly ahead. Her right hand slowly reached for the book that shimmied towards her outstretched hand. The book leapt from the shelf into her hand.
"Goooood," a voice whispered.
She looked for the source of the sound, but she saw no one. She turned. Her trancelike state resumed. She slowly walked to her plush reading chair. She continued to stare directly ahead as she eased herself into the chair. When she was seated comfortably, she began to open the book. The pages turned rapidly until it opened to the page where Lord Viktor had stopped reading prior to his demise.
"Here," the voice rasped.
She saw Lord Viktor's diary in her hands. She looked at the page and the words seemed foreign to her eyes. She blinked several times as she skimmed over the page. The words began to melt off of the page. The black script turned to blood and dripped onto her dress. The page turned. The blood pooled and covered her dress. A demonic face appeared in the rippling pool of blood. In her mind, she screamed.
She snapped out of her trance. She looked around the room. She was alone. She looked at her dress and it was flawless. The pool of blood was gone. The words had returned to the page. However, the words seemed different. The handwriting style had changed. The angle of each word had shifted from being angled to the left to the right. The words also seemed to leap from the page. She looked at the first word. Instantly, her eyes could not leave the page.
"Yes," the voice hissed.
She read:
My faith in you has been rewarded. When I gave you my tome to use as your own, I knew that I would some day be rewarded.
She blinked several times. Her eyes were still transfixed on the opening words on the page. She tried to move but her body was frozen. Her mysterious puppeteer had returned. Slowly, she turned each page. She turned several blank pages until she returned to the same page where she had started. Her mind told her that this volume was always full. There wasn't a blank page. Slowly, she realized the imagery of the vision. The words that Lord Viktor had placed in this tome had magically disappeared. The words that remained were the words of the King of Vampires: Lord Blackraven. She had found the last remaining tome or, at the very least, it had found her.
She read:
Despite my powers, I knew that one day, I would meet my demise. Our enemies are strong, wise, and cunning. They are resourceful and unrelenting. Each day, I noted everything that I had learned during my time as a member of the undead. I urged each vampire to scribe their abilities that have been placed on us by our demonic sire. The more we discover about ourselves, the greater we will become. Only when we have reached our true potential that we may begin to conquer the holy alliance that strives to eliminate our kind.
Like all masters, our sire did not reveal everything to us. He placed many abilities for us to discover. Like all creatures, our ability to adapt over time is crucial to our survival. From my many conversations with the other members of the Order of Twelve, I have learned that my abilities have grown at a greater rate than their own. Maybe I have been more concerned about how I am able to exist as a creature of the night instead of satisfying my basic primal needs for food and sexual gratification. Instead, I have chosen a different path. A path of a greater understanding of my abilities so I can satisfy those same basic needs.
For instance, survival. We all, even when we were human, want to survive. We run from creatures that frighten us to survive. As vampires, we have been forced to live during the hours of darkness out of a fear of death. If I venture into the sunlight, my skin burns. I fear death despite being undead. I am a life form. I wish to continue this existence but I still fear death. What happens to those creatures, when they die, that have been shunned by God and accepted by his fallen angel? I, like many others, do not wish to discover that answer.
However, I do fear that I am dead already. I have left these hidden words for only the most powerful of vampire to read. You have achieved a greater power. You have been blessed with the knowledge of your elders. As you continue to read their words, your power will grow.
Lord Blackraven
"Yes, it will," the raspy voice whispered.
Mikhaeli instantly jumped out of her chair. As she clutched the tome to her chest, she turned in a complete circle to confront her visitor. As before, no one was in her room. Her door was closed. She had locked the door and only Vladimir had a key. Slowly, she sat down and placed the tome, Lord Blackraven's tome, onto her lap.
"After all these years, my most elusive prize was hidden right in front of me," she said as she stared at the old, leather bound book.
She touched her hand to the cover.
"How brilliant," she whispered. "Hide it in plain sight, but…"
Her voice trailed off. She closed her eyes. Her mind, like an old film reel, flipped through scene after scene of her life since she became re-born as a vampire. She remembered, only days after killing her family, the death of her sire. She saw Lord Viktor's body. She vividly saw the horrid death that he had experienced. More importantly, she saw the tome. Vladimir held it for her to read. It was, as she was led to believe, Lord Viktor's tome. She couldn't read the words, but now she could. It was part of the plan. To find this book, she had to find the others. By finding the others, she became powerful enough to fulfill her true quest.
She opened the tome. She rapidly flipped through the delicate pages. She scanned the words. Many of the pages had changed. Viktor's words were gone, but she believed what she needed to read was still there. At last, she found the page that Viktor had been reading or writing at the time of his death. She read and smirked.
"Interesting," she whispered.
A knock at the door broke her concentration. She stood and she placed the tome back on the shelf. She checked her dress and saw that it, like the rest of her, was flawless. She confidently swayed to the door and turned the latch. Without asking who was calling on her, she opened the door. Vladimir's pale vampire face smiled at her.
He quickly bowed. "My beautiful Queen," he said, "The site is prepared and your time is now. Are you ready?" he asked as he smiled evilly.
"Oh yes," she hissed as her vampire face formed, "I am."
She returned his demonic smile.
* * *
The ferocity of the storm had increased. Conditions rapidly deteriorated. Visibility was only a hundred meters. The wind constantly shifted directions. Instead of blowing across the open field, the wind now whipped in all directions. For several minutes, it blew directly into the faces of the three warriors as they approached the castle. Undaunted, they never broke stride. Freezing precipitation pelted their faces as they moved swiftly through the forest. Their exposed skin burned from the cold. Their breath pumped from their lungs. Their gaze never wavered. They were focused.
Rowlett, who led the group, had studied the few known photographs of the castle. The field, where the two other teams waited at the edge of the forest, was the shortest and most direct route to the castle. However, the far side of the castle offered the best coverage and an opportunity to enter the building without having to do a frontal assault to lower the drawbridge. The moat still encircled the entire castle, but it had been modified to allow for advances in technology. Most notably, the garage that had been attached to the back of the castle diverted the original moat. Rowlett was counting on the vampires to have erred in their defensive strategy when they rebuilt the moat.
The team stopped at the wooded area closest to the garage. The garage was an addition built onto the back to the castle. The original moat had been diverted around it. Like its ancient counterpart, the garage had a drawbridge. However, unlike its counterpart, it was a modern bridge that was electronically controlled. The bridge resembled a reverse drawbridge. Instead of rising upwards, it lowered so its sides hung against the
opposite sides of the moat. When activated, the two sides would be raised together by large pistons. Once joined, beams would lock in place to provide support.
The snow continued to increase. The circular driveway, which had been wet with rain, only an hour ago, was now covered with a thick layer of wet snow. Near the entrance to the garage, there was a communications box. It also was covered with a thick layer of snow. As he saw the box, Rowlett smiled.
"Why are you smiling?" The Difference, the heavily accented Asian man, asked. "It's colder than Jack Frost's ass out here."
The Russian chuckled. "This is sunbathing weather in my country, Comrade."
Rowlett shook his head as he removed his toothpick from his mouth. "I am smiling because of what I see."
The Difference squinted to see through the blowing wet snow. "All I see is a big fucking white mess blowing around a big ass moat."
"Look closer," Rowlett urged.
"And the bridge is missing," The Difference said. "Is this skinny dipping weather too?"
Rowlett paused. "The box, my friend," he said as he put the toothpick back into his mouth.
The Russian cocked a snow covered brow. "I don't see a vehicle. Also, how will they hear you over this wind?"
Rowlett gave a knowing smile. "I am hoping that they don't. Just be ready, Comrade."
The two men nodded. Rowlett glanced to his left and then to his right before he crept out into the clearing. He was immediately pelted by large, wet flakes of snow. He kept low. He was hoping that the snow would be interfering with any motion sensors or cameras. He had seen several cameras on the castle, but he hoped and prayed that the blowing snow was distorting the images. As he got closer to the garage control box, he could see that several cameras were covered by snow. He felt relieved but he still did not relax. They still had to have a lot of luck.
He kept low and looped in an arc away from the garage. As he headed back to towards the garage, he broke into a full run. He removed his backpack as he ran. He huddled the backpack to his chest. He reached the control box within moments. Inhaling deeply, he exhaled slowly to regain his composure. If his makeshift plan was going to work, he needed to be calm. He pressed the intercom button repeatedly. It buzzed loudly.
"What the fuck do you want?" a voice complained.
"Blood delivery," he said. His voice had a heavy Siberian accent.
"Where is your delivery van?" the voice asked.
He chuckled. "Have you looked out a fucking window in the last hour? It's stuck a mile from here. I ran all this way with a couple bags in my pack."
The vampire scoffed. "Okay, what's the pass code?"
"Hey fuck you!" Rowlett said. "I'm freezing my undead balls off out here."
The vampire chuckled. "Wrong, but I like you."
He hopped up and down and ran in place. "Then open the goddamn door and get a plow or a four-wheel drive out here. You wouldn't want to disappoint the queen. She ordered this personally."
"Personally?"
"Yes. Now, hurry the fuck up before I really have blue balls."
"Hold on."
There was a hiss. The pistons began to rise. Slowly, both sections of the bridge moved into place. There was a loud bang when the two sections of the bridge stopped. Another loud bang followed when the steel support beams locked in place. Within seconds, snow began to cover the bridge. The metal bridge, which was cold from whipping winds, was the perfect landing spot for the wet snow. A slick icy surface immediately formed. However, it was the noise created by the heavy bridge that allowed their plan to progress.
The Difference and The Russian ran from their spot in the forest. They ran as hard and as fast as the wet slick surface would allow. The soles of their black combat boots were clogged by wet snow. They slipped and fell. Undaunted, they jumped back to their feet. They moved as swiftly as possible and knelt behind two trees that stood directly across the driveway from the garage. They quickly removed two small, handheld crossbows from holsters on their thighs. They loaded them and waited.
Rowlett continued to clutch his backpack to his chest. Gradually, the main door to the garage rolled up. The large black door rattled as the wind whipped against its metal panels. A black four-wheel drive truck roared to life. Its square headlights illuminated the snow filled darkness. It carefully rolled onto the slick metal bridge as it approached Rowlett. The driver lowered his window as he approached.
"Hop in and show us where you got stuck," the dark-haired male vampire ordered.
"Yeah, I'll show ya," Rowlett said as he dropped his backpack and his accent.
"What the f…" the vampire said.
Rowlett dropped his backpack to reveal two large vials of holy water. He hurled them into the truck cab. The fragile bottles shattered in their faces. They screamed as their faces began to smoke and melt. They immediately jumped out of the truck to let the snow cool their skin. As soon as they had cleared the doors, crossbow bolts flew from the darkness. Despite the whipping winds, the wooden bolts found their targets. The stunned vampires reached for the bolts that protruded from their chests. Soon green lines began to trace their bodies. Before they could scream, Rowlett grabbed the driver and threw him into the moat. His passenger was grabbed by The Russian, who had immediately charged his target, and he threw him into the moat. The Difference hopped in the cab of the truck and it roared to life. Seconds later, he had turned the truck towards the garage; he drove it towards the moat before jumping to safety. It landed in a loud splash.
"Well that was fun," The Difference said as he leapt to his feet.
The Russian reloaded his crossbow. "Isn't that going to draw more attention to us?" he asked.
Rowlett put a new toothpick in his mouth. He grabbed his backpack and removed two Japanese kodachi. The swords were roughly two feet in length and they were honed to razor sharp precision. He dropped his backpack to the ground.
"Exactly," he said as he strapped their sheaths to his back. "Let's go."
The three men dashed into the garage. The Russian fired his crossbow as he ran. A vampire, who ran towards the door to investigate the crash, fell as the wooden bolt had pierced his heart. His screamed as his vampire body rapidly decayed. Another died from a bolt fired by The Difference. Three more died from Rowlett's whirling blades.
The first vampire didn't even know what had hit him. Rowlett kicked him in the stomach and decapitated him. The second vampire, who stood nearby, was struck through the heart by the razor shape blade. As he grabbed the sword that protruded from his chest, Rowlett whirled the second blade into his head. His fangs shattered on the cement floor as his head tumbled away. Both bodies immediately began to rapidly decay.
The third vampire, who had grabbed a large adjustable wrench, charged the skilled warrior. He swung wildly at Rowlett's head. Rowlett dodged several quick strikes and countered with a kick to the thigh. The vampire groaned loudly but he continued his attack. Blow after blow was either dodged or blocked by his defensive skills with his blades. His fellow council warriors raised their crossbows, but they were not needed. The vampire, who had grown frustrated, lifted the large wrench above his head to strike a killing blow. Rowlett rolled to his right as the large wrench cracked the cement floor. Before he could raise it again, Rowlett struck and connected. The vampire screamed as both arms were severed at the elbow. Dark, undead blood sprayed as he stared at his severed limbs. His agony was brief as the blades connected with his throat. The headless vampire dropped to his knees before falling forward. The warrior turned to his comrades.
"Now for the hard part," he said as he panted.
All three men looked at the exit door. The Russian checked the handle and it turned. He didn't stop to ponder why they vampires left such a crucial entrance unguarded. He held the door open as The Difference launched three quick bolts into the hallway. Another vampire screamed. Rowlett entered next. His team followed. Moments later, they were met by a charging group of Mikhaeli's minions. They were prepared, but the vampires were not.
Chaos soon followed. As the vampires turned and fled into the safety of their castle, Rowlett removed his phone. He pressed redial.
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