Crimson Thirst (The Huntress Bane Book 2)

by Derek Shupert

  Victor grips the handle with a firm grasp. He tests the blade’s weight and maneuverability by moving it around. He wields it fluently, twirling it in his hand with little effort.

  I blanch and take a half step back. My stomach drops and I second guess coming to the devil’s den in the first place.

  He finally stops. He takes the blade with his hand and presents the handle to me. “A fine weapon you carry. I had one similar a long time ago. If you keep it sharp and take care of it, it’ll serve you well for many years to come.”

  My hand cautiously reaches out and snares the handle. I reel it in while keeping my sights trained on the vampire near me. He doesn’t make any sudden moves toward me. He just peers at me as he stands in place with his arms clasped behind his back.

  “Thanks. Though, in the future, I’d appreciate you not doing that if it’s all the same to you,” I tersely retort.

  He nods. “My apologies. I meant no offense or cause for concern.”

  I hold the kukri a few seconds longer as I gaze upon his pale face. It’s absent of any emotion. Just a blank canvas with strong crimson lips. No doubt from all of the blood he must consume.

  The kukri is secured in the sheath. I don’t strap it down, though. If I need it, then I can draw it in a flash. Although, given his speed and reflexes, it could prove to be futile.

  “You haven’t answered my question,” I state. “Why did you kill those vampires in Black Fields? Is there some sort of descension within the demons?”

  Victor turns toward the corridor that I passed through a little while ago.

  “Walk with me. Will you?”

  SEVENTEEN

  Victor retrieves one of the torches from the sconce on the wall and hands it to me.

  I take the dense wooden stick from his clawed hand. My sight can adjust somewhat to the darkness, but the torch will be useful, and add additional security.

  I hold it up in front of me as he saunters toward the opening. I keep my distance, but follow in his wake.

  “The question you ask does not have an easy answer. It is more complicated than you think,” Victor says. “It has been for hundreds of years now.”

  His arms remain tightly fastened behind his back. The pace of his steps is steady and controlled. He doesn’t make any sudden movements or hints at foul play.

  “Enlighten me, then,” I retort. “With all of the dealings that I’ve had with your kind, I can say that you certainly have piqued my curiosity. I don’t generally come to a vamp nest and just hang out. I’m usually cleaning house.”

  “Yes, slayer. Your hunting of my kind has not gone unnoticed. But I can assure you that the demons that have been after you are part of Mathesis’s brood. Not mine.”

  Interesting.

  Victor saunters through the winding, narrow corridors that seem to go on forever. The torch remains held up in front of me. My head sneaks back over my shoulder in the direction of the way we came.

  I find more glowing red dots hovering in the ether of blackness. They stay motionless. The subtle hisses and whispers of the vampires play in my ears.

  I gulp at the sight and try to stay the uneasiness that swells inside of me.

  “Why are you not part of his brood?” I pose. “I thought all vampires were governed by him. Is he not the leader of your kind?”

  Victor nods. “The ones that have directly been turned by him, or by one of his brood, are under his rule and thumb. I was not turned by him. I was what you humans would say, created by him in a different way.”

  “How so?” I ask.

  Victor turns to the right and heads down the long stretch of rock that has been carved out of the earth. I spot no more curious stares in the darkness. No hisses or muttered speech on the back of the low whistling wind that sweeps through the corridor.

  Where is he taking me?

  We walk a bit farther until we emerge into a small, enclosed space. As I sweep the room with the flaming torch held tightly within my grasp, I spy no other outlet.

  On the far wall, is a lone painting of a woman. It’s aged from the wear and tear on the frame and canvas. Not sure of the time period, but it does have that old aesthetic feel to it. Perhaps hundreds of years old.

  Stationed below the painting is a single brass urn. I wonder who is inside, and more importantly, why does a vampire have a shrine to what appears to be a human woman? She doesn’t appear to be a vampire, given her olive-colored skin and bright blue eyes.

  Victor approaches the painting and stops. His head tilts back. He stares at the picture without saying a single word.

  “Who’s the woman?” I inquire.

  He takes a step closer and places his hand on the bottom right portion of the brown wooden frame. His elongated nails trace over the intricate carvings that slither through the wood’s grain.

  “My mother, Anna,” he softly answers.

  I stand there, silent. Dumbfounded even. I think hard and chew on his words as I try to digest what he has said.

  Vampires are not known for being sentimental creatures. To say this isn’t typical of the fanged fiends is quite the understatement.

  I give into my curiosity and ask, “Why does a vampire keep such a thing?” I take a few steps forward. “Your kind is not known for being the sentimental type. Hell, once the venom takes hold and the demons get their first taste of blood, their past lives are erased by the thirst. Snuffed out as if they never existed, or they no longer associate with it. What makes you any different?”

  Victor removes his hand from the painting. He turns to the side and peers over at me with a sad gaze. “It’s like I told you earlier. I was created, but not in the way that you think. Mathesis didn’t bite me, but instead, he turned me through her in a way.”

  I cock my head to the right slightly. My mind swells with confusion. I’m still not following what he’s saying.

  “What exactly do you mean? If he didn’t bite you, then how did you become a-”

  That’s when it hits me, but it’s a notion so outlandish that I contemplate not even giving life to the idea. It can’t be true, then again, there are vampires in the world now.

  At one time, most thought that the creatures were nothing more than tall tales—scary stories of monsters that were meant to frighten people. The now displaced world has learned that sometimes the most outlandish stories are true.

  “Did you somehow contract the venom through her while in the womb?”

  Victor bows his head. “Yes. As far as I know, that is how it happened.”

  His words slam into me like a sledgehammer to the gut. My hand runs up and down my face, then back through my hair as I process his words. My mind swims in a sea of confusion with even more questions that swarm my thoughts.

  “So, you were born a vampire?”

  Victor glances back up to the picture of the woman. “You could say that. She wasn’t a vampire. She was one of Mathesis’s blood bags. For many months, Mathesis would feed on her, leaking his venom into her bloodstream, which in turn, had an adverse effect on me while inside of her. She managed to escape before I was born. When she finally gave birth to me, I was like this.”

  Victor reaches his hand up to the urn, and gently touches it. I cautiously approach from his left. My curiosity brings me in closer the more I listen to his tale.

  “What happened to her?” I pose.

  “Many years later, after living far from Mathesis’s reach, he finally discovered where we were. He wanted me to drink her, feed on her as a soulless demon without any thought on the matter, but I couldn’t. She was my mother. The giver of life to me. When I refused, he opened her up with the hopes of tempting me with her blood. Enraged, I attacked, but failed to kill him as I was still young and inexperienced. His brood overwhelmed me, and I was forced to flee.” Victor’s hand leaves the urn. He stands there with his attention focused on it for a few seconds longer before diverting his gaze over to me.

  “I guess we’re not so different you and I,” I say as I look up
to the portrait. “He took my loved ones as well. One of many reasons why I want that bastard’s head.”

  “We have been at war for centuries now. Battling through the ages,” Victor recalls. “Revenge is only a portion of what we seek, though. Me and my brood want nothing more than peace with the humans and to find a common ground that can benefit both of our kinds. It has been hard to take Mathesis on as his clan is much larger than mine. Still, we have made some headway and continue the fight. We try to steer clear of any human colonies, such as your Black Fields, but war is coming to it and other human settlements soon. It is at your door.” Victor turns and walks away. He clasps his hands behind his back and heads for the corridor that we just came through.

  I turn to the side, watching him leave. I then glance back up to the portrait of his mother. I know how Victor feels. Having your loved ones ripped away from you and torn apart in such a savage manner is nothing short of a horrid nightmare that one can’t simply blink out of existence.

  Mathesis slaughtered my family much the same. Only his death can do them, and the millions of others that have fallen because of his tyranny, justice.

  EIGHTEEN

  Revenge.

  It’s a powerful motivator.

  So is survival.

  Thrive or die.

  It’s as simple as that.

  These are what can drive an individual to slog through the horrors of a grueling and bloody war, regardless if they’re human or not.

  Listening to Victor’s story, and his reasoning behind wanting Mathesis dead, has aligned our objectives in more ways than I could have imagined. What’s that old saying? The enemy of my enemy is my friend?

  Perhaps a bold statement at this junction, as I still don’t know much about him and his nest of demons.

  Are they good?

  Bad?

  Indifferent in this wasteland of ruined buildings and an inhospitable environment?

  Only time will tell. Still, having an ally with a force to back up our common goal could prove to be useful.

  The most recent breach, by Remus and his clan of bloodsuckers, proved that despite Black Fields’ forces trying to contain the demon horde, they are seriously outmatched.

  Victor leads me through more winding tunnels that slither through the damp, cold earth. I keep my wits sharp around the vampires. Their curiosity pulls them from the darkness and into the flickering of the torches’ light. I haven’t been able to fully ascertain the horde’s numbers, but it appears to be deep. More so than I thought it would be given Mathesis’s rule over the demons.

  Multiple sets of dark crimson eyes emerge from the darkness of the hollow pits.

  Doru towers over me from behind. My head sneaks back over my shoulder, my nerves on edge at his presence. The slight glow from the flame brings to life his pale, emotionless face. An intimidating brute for sure, but one that I feel I could handle if need be.

  “You have me wondering why you invited me here,” I say. “You obviously have the numbers and strength to take on Mathesis and his horde without me. I’m not sure what a mere human can offer to you that would thwart any such schemes that Mathesis is planning. From what I have witnessed from recent events, whatever he’s planning looks to be big.”

  Victor continues his steady pace, but tilts his head to the side. “Oh, he is scheming for sure. Has been for decades. He’s been plotting and waiting for the opportunity to strike the final blow to the humans, one that they will not be able to recover from.”

  His words are defeating. No sense of hope lingers within the subtle, soft-spoken tone. Then again, I already knew as much. The problem is, knowing how and when he is going to attack. That’s the wild card.

  We’re belched out of the narrow tunnel into a large, cavernous opening within the earth. Victor stands there with his arms clasped behind his back as I approach and stand by his side. Doru takes position next to me. He’s slightly offset and back some, but I can still see him. I get the feeling that he is Victor’s guard or protector.

  The space is dark, void of any sort of light. The flame of the torch is the only source that offers me a glimpse into the unknown. It reveals a vast network of shadowy tunnels that snake through the earth. So many in fact that I lose track. I look down and find a vast pit that spans for what seems like forever with no end in sight.

  The once subtle hisses and whispers that trailed me through the winding and bending corridors of the tunnels, flourish and blossom. More red dots manifest from the ether before us, multiplying faster than I can keep track of.

  I move the flame from side to side, trying to see their pale faces and bodies that emerge from the dark tunnels within the earthy sides of the walls.

  A sea of crimson fills my gaze from every angle. It’s endless, which is a bit frightening. I’ve always equated the demons as a bad thing, and seeing this makes me worry that much more. I try to remain in control, and not allow my trained instincts to kick in, but it’s hard.

  “That’s a shit ton of bloodsuckers,” I mouth under my breath.

  Victor turns to me. “Despite our numbers, we are still outnumbered by Mathesis. His legion is much deeper than ours, and he has tons of nests that are scattered all over the world. Taking out each one is not feasible for us. Our ranks cannot support that sort of punishment.”

  I cut my gaze over to Victor.

  “How are they able to resist Mathesis’s influence?” I pose. “How are you?”

  “That, I do not know,” Victor retorts. “What I do know is that all of the creatures before you have my venom coursing through their veins. A mixture of humans and vampires subjugated by Mathesis’s rule. All were given a choice to join me on my crusade to rid the world of Mathesis’s tyranny. To exact revenge and have a shot at redemption. The humans came to me of their own free will, while the vampires were turned during any encounters I had with them. Doru is one of the first vampires that I took from Mathesis’s ranks.”

  I glance back to the hulking brute that towers over me. His thick arms are crossed over his chest as he stares down at me with an emotionless gaze.

  Victor points out to the other demons that linger in the shadows.

  The vampires scurry out of their dark pits, allowing the faint glow from the torch’s flame to illuminate their pale skulls. It’s subtle, but enough for me to see their ghastly shapes move in the shadows. “There are many more like him among us. I gave each the chance to join me and to go after the one who has brought so much death and despair to so many. I do wish many more had decided to join our cause. It saddens me to have to take their lives.”

  “You make this sound like a holy war,” I observe. “I can’t help but find that notion a bit ironic considering that your demons burped up from the pits of hell. I imagine the big man upstairs isn’t exactly on your side.”

  Victor nods. “Life is ironic, slayer. Make no mistake about that. As much as our kind is a plague on the world of man, a failsafe has been put into place. A singular weapon of sorts that is meant to take out Mathesis for good. That is why I asked you here.”

  My face contorts in a way that furrows my brow and crinkles my nose. I’m not following what he’s saying. What is he getting at?

  “What do you mean, exactly?” I ask.

  “There’s a way to kill Mathesis, once and for all. To end all of this bloodshed that has soaked into the earth. A vampire cannot kill Mathesis. It has to be a human. A special one that has been chosen,” Victor says as he turns toward me. “You are that chosen one, Amanda. The one who can end all of this. The one who can end Mathesis.”

  His words linger inside my head as he faces toward the black abyss before us. He stares out into the ether with me by his side.

  Victor’s words burrow into my brain. I remain silent, motionless, as I struggle to grasp his words and find their meaning. Only time will tell if what Victor is saying is true, and if he can be trusted.

  The one thing that I do know, is that a day of reckoning is coming to the demons of the night, an
d soon, Mathesis will pay for the pain and suffering that he has caused this forsaken world.

  Author Notes

  Written November 12, 2019

  Early mornings and late nights.

  Crushing deadlines and the looming fear that I am forgetting to do something.

  The life of a writer.

  I’m a perfectionist at heart, which at times, makes it hard to get anything done, or on time for that matter. Part of the reason I try to plan ahead. Months ahead to be more accurate. It helps me to ensure that every T is crossed and I is dotted. Still, I’m always plagued by the notion that I have forgotten to do something.

  Did I set the book up on Amazon?

  Is the file I’m uploading perfect in every single way?

  The list goes on and on but you get the picture.

  I guess the reason I double, triple, and quadrupole check everything is because I want the best for my readers. I demand that from myself. To give those who willingly fork over their hard-earned money a reading experience that has them coming back for more. It’s a bar that I have set for self that I strive to make on each new book release.

  At times, I feel like Babe Ruth. Always swinging for the fences. No matter what I’m doing, I’m always trying to knock it out of the park. Grand slams, baby! That’s the way I view most things in my life, not just writing. Anything worth doing is worth doing right.

  I don’t believe in half-assing anything, especially my stories. I hope when you read any twisted tale of mine, you know that I strived to deliver the best for you, the reader. At the end of the day, that’s what any author wants. For the readers to enjoy our tales of faraway worlds and scary monsters.

  Speaking of good stories, I hope Crimson Thirst was a satisfying read, and that you’re enjoying the series so far. Amanda has certainly been put through the ringer, and that rabbit hole is taking her further down into the unknown. I can promise you that the story is only going to get more treacherous for our heroine and she is going to have her work cut out for her.