“Becca, are we good to go?” Luke’s voice suddenly cut through her thoughts. She vanished the worry lines on her forehead and turned to face Luke with the brightest fake smile she could conjure. She felt the corners of her lips twitch.
“Of course.” She responded in a voice that was maybe a bit too enthusiastic. Luke’s eyebrows shot up.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” His voice bled with concern, “We could move our departure by a few days, give you time to get mentally ready.” But Becca wouldn’t have any of it. They didn’t have a few days. They didn’t even have now. The more time it took them to find the exiled vampire clan of Transylvania, the fewer vampires they would meet eventually. She knew firsthand how the High Commission killed off vampires on sight, without due process or legal proceedings. They just did. It was nothing short of genocide.
“Are we ever ready for anything?” She smiled uncertainly, hoping her words sounded assured enough, “At the end of the day, we just have to do what we have to do, don’t we?”
That was good logic, Luke had to agree. He could find no rebuttal, but his worry concerning her didn’t disappear.
“Let’s go, then.” Luke beckoned. They picked up their bags and headed down the stairs, making sure not to make noise, so as not to crash the date that was going on in the living room. They stepped out into the sunlight and Becca felt the strong earthy scent of the vast carpet grass fill her nostrils with a strong freshness. She suddenly felt charged up. They could do this. She felt a strong assurance within her. Without a doubt, the going would be tough, crazy in fact, but she could feel it within her. They would set things right.
Luke walked with purpose in his steps. “We aren’t taking those flying mechanical birds back to Transylvania,” he said, referring to airplanes and forcing a chuckle out of Becca, “I’m certain opposing forces are waiting for us at the other side.”
Becca agreed. It was stakeout 101. The High Commission had never been a body to relax or take chances. They would ensure to block all entry points; airports, train stations, boat docks. They would have to find a creative point of entrance, but where? And how?
“What’s your plan?” She asked, nonplussed as to the calculations currently ongoing in his mind.
He looked at her, his face widened with one of his trademark mischievous smiles. In his eyes, she could sense his pride at his cleverness.
“Ever flown on a bat?” He asked, and she shook her head, marveling at the inventiveness of his plan. She didn’t need to ask the details, his crimson eyes told her all she needed to know. She felt the thrill of excitement surge through her body. This had only just begun, and yet it was beginning to look like there was a ton of fun on the way.
She beamed at the idea and in response, he smiled. And she couldn’t stop staring at his perfect, perfect white teeth.
∞∞∞
Chapter 3
THE TRYOUT
The three hundredth floor of the High Commission’s skyscraper housed the largest training area in the building. It was a large circular room cast in limestone and marble, with a huge ceiling that resembled a cavern with the huge, jagged pillars of iron and steel hanging down from the ceiling like stalactites. The large chamber was divided into three large sectors for each of the three clans. These sectors were barricaded by magical glass that the Wiccans had put up. The glass surrounding the Lykae sector only admitted the hairy werewolves, and so did the glass surrounding the other sectors.
The training areas were as distinct as they were majestic. The Vampire Hunters’ training area was alive with dummy vampires and racks of multifarious enchanted weapons, ranging from guns to crossbows, swords to staffs, javelins to grenades. There was an enchanted jungle growing right in the sector, thick with trees and giant shrubs, and predatorial animals which had been infused with dangerous elixirs of regeneration. The elixirs of regeneration were a volatile brew that the Wiccans had developed to mirror the regenerative abilities which were peculiar to the vampires and Lykae, but most especially the vampires. Lykae could heal their wounds, but not nearly at the accelerated rate of vampires, and not as expansively, too. Lykae couldn’t regrow severed limbs like vampires. They also couldn’t regenerate vital organs like the heart and brains the way vampires could. Still, they had needed something that could mirror this power, howbeit temporarily, so the High Commission’s forces could train against the best approximation of their common enemy. So, over the years, as they hunted the vampire clan into the shadows, they had captured some of them and used them as test subjects—lab rats if you must—extracting their essences and combining natural and earth minerals to produce their best alchemical effort; the elixir of regeneration.
The elixir had never really hit the mark, though. When it was applied, the individual would indeed possess regenerative powers similar to those of vampires, their wounds would heal in hours and they would regrow all severed body parts and damaged organs overnight if left unencumbered, but they would also explode into dust after two weeks. So, wild animals were poached from the forests of Transylvania and dragged by chains into the High Commission every fortnight.
The vampire hunters would brave the enchanted forests, driving swords through the predators only to watch them heal their wounds and launch new attacks. There was also a lake conjured with magic, within which the hunters learned to hold their breaths and fight under highly uncomfortable conditions. There was a resting area, where there were workbenches for bodybuilding and fitness; dumbbells, crossbars with weights, hammers.
The Lykae training area was similar to that of the vampire hunters, but there was even more bodybuilding equipment. There were hanging hoops for calisthenics and special aerobics. There were boulders the size of cars and endurance courses rife with hidden traps like arrows shooting from the walls and swinging maces dotted with sharp metal spikes and axes swinging from beneath the ground. Training sequences followed a textbook ‘survival of the fittest’ schedule, with Lykae blood wetting those courses every day.
The Lykae had a spot that differed their training area from the vampire hunters’ considerably, and that was the enchanted aerodrome. There they underwent a special training session, where they learned to fight in a weightless room. Lykae had a fatal fear of heights, and most especially of the sky. It made sense for the folk whose power was activated by the moon to dread being too close to the source of their power. In the aerodrome, they battled against vampire approximations, learning to deliver killer blows even while feeling their inborn fear of heights eat them up from the inside. Lykae also held endurance, conviction, and conditioning drills in the aerodrome.
The Wiccan sector brimmed with magic. There were a plethora of cauldrons, bubbling with thick potions, thick as jelly, and sparkling with reds and oranges, greens and browns. Witches had a corner for transformation lessons, where they learned first to transform objects into other objects and then themselves into creatures of all kinds. There was a large crystal ball, where certain Wiccans dabbled in the esoteric arts of divination and prescience. Celine, the High Commissioner, despite being a witch, found the study of divination futile and the field unreliable. She had once proposed that the divination program be shut down altogether, but to her surprise, Timothy and Bijou had stood against her in support of it. Apparently, they believed it would pay off at a point, just like the ongoing research into the elixir of regeneration, which the High Commission had kept on funding despite the setbacks. So, the program stayed on.
The Wiccans had a large cabinet fused from the finest ivory. It’s hard, the smooth exterior was engraved with protective magic inscribed in molten gold. Inside it lived a festival of magical objects; orbs, wands, stuffed animals, staff, even broomsticks. Each was infused with powerful magic and was a product of highly complex rituals. In a corner, the rare male Wiccans tended magical beasts. These beasts were dangerous, even to Lykae, and remained impervious to control, which was why the High Commission had heretofore resisted all temptations and refrained from using them.
But, just like the divination program, they kept the animal breeding program running, just in case.
The training happened on so many floors among the seven hundred floors the High Commission’s office spanned, but everyone knew that the most intense training and robust equipment were housed on the three hundredth floor, and so this was where Celine, Bijou, and Timothy headed to assemble their new killer squad, which they intended to send on a special mission to take down Lukai and his fated mate. Yes, she was officially regarded as a threat, if not a threat as great as Lukai.
As they climbed out of the stairwell and into the vast training space, Celine’s eyes hardened. “I thought more change had happened here.” To this, Timothy chuckled (to her consternation), while Bijou scoffed. Having to manage so many operations, both locally and beyond Transylvania’s shores, Celine never seemed to have breathing space anymore. She was almost always on the seven hundredth floor, strategizing with top representatives from all the clans, corresponding with lieutenants in the field, and signing off forms of documents. She had signed off a large budget toward an upgrade of the training area a few months ago, which was why she had expected greater evidence of change. Timothy, on the other hand, wasn’t buying it, though. He knew how occupied Celine had been since assuming the exalted but highly demanding role of High Commissioner, but he also felt that she was losing touch with the real issues at hand, even issues with her clan.
As they stepped into the training area, the air stilled for a moment. The Lykae, Wiccans, and Vampire Hunters in the foyer, who were busy entering into their training gear, readying themselves to walk through the enchanted glass into their respective training areas, paused in their tracks. Immediately, they all leaped to their feet, assuming a standing position with their right elbows placed at the center of their horizontal left hands, in a gesture of respect and welcome. With the shadow of a hastily assumed smile, Celine waved at them with a gesture of acknowledgment. Timothy and Bijou did the same. As the trainees returned to their normal business, with looks of evident shock on their faces at the rare visitors who had appeared on the three hundredth floor unexpectedly, a huge vampire hunter walked toward them. He was dressed in a cloak of expansive cotton and a thick amulet hung on his left arm.
“Greetings High Commissioner, my Liege, Lord Bijou.” He said with a grave voice, bowing to Celine, Timothy, and then Bijou in quick succession. “The chosen are ready.”
Celine led the way to a mahogany door at the other end of the room. Timothy observed Bijou’s eyes trained on what looked like Celine’s behind, but he took it for nothing, until Bijou smacked his lips hungrily. It was a low, almost imperceptible sound, which had clearly gone unnoticed by Celine and the huge hunter, but Timothy had caught it. His eyes sparked with the delight of a fresh discovery.
“Are you?” Timothy prodded, mischief dancing in his eyes as he pointed at Celine’s ass. Bijou scowled darkly, which only further confirmed his suspicions. He chuckled heartily, amazed at his discovery, only ceasing his laughter when he saw Celine bristle in front of him. Her temperament was increasingly volatile since Lukai’s escape. He could understand that this was the greatest test any High Commissioner had faced in three hundred years. Such pressure could break anybody, so he could rationalize why she could flare up the way she had been doing in recent times. Still, where had Bijou’s sudden attraction to her come from? He had never known Bijou to express such sentiments with any non-Lykae, and then suddenly he was into Celine? Timothy glanced at his fiery eyes. Bijou looked like he would love nothing more than her pussy for Christmas.
When they reached the door, it swung open without anyone touching it, all thanks to Celine’s telekinesis. In the room, there were two Wiccans, four young Lykae, and a half dozen vampire hunters. The Wiccans stood out from the pack; one with hair the color of corn, the other with a robe that shimmered like a firefly. Celine took a seat at the end of the room, after responding to their greeting. Timothy, Bijou, and the huge vampire hunter sat beside her. Timothy smiled to himself, intent on enjoying most of the tryouts.
“Behold, the handpicked lieutenants. These are currently the most gifted youngsters in their clans.” Celine nodded curtly, Bijou grunted, while Timothy beamed at his Hunters. They were here to form a new killer squad for a top-secret mission; a mission that was sure to shake Lukai and his fated mate. Celine no longer entertained the option of placing him back in prison. Not after he had nearly killed her daughter.
The tryouts began, first with the Lykae. They were made to each brave an aerodrome battle with a vampire tiger. A short-haired sport with broad shoulders and a flair for daggers won the challenge. He grinned broadly as the huge vampire hunter singled him out from his peers. Celine yawned, looking most unimpressed. Bijou’s expression mirrored hers.
Next was the challenge to the hunters. A panther drunk on the elixir of regeneration was dragged into the room by a large, rough, metal chain. Each of the assembled young hunters was made to battle the vicious animal. Timeout breaks were allotted to allow for the predator’s regeneration. In the end, young Samsa—one of Timothy’s favorites—emerged victorious, slaying the beast with an enchanted rifle in three seconds. Timothy found the feat absolutely impressive. Celine looked bored; Bijou, too.
Then came the witches. They both practiced a similar brand of magic. Each one opened a jar of black dust and poured it on the polished marble floor. Then, they each spilled a drop of blood on the dust, which sent a wave of power over the pile, causing the dust to rise in a spiraling tornado in front of them. Then, chanting special incantations, they morphed their dust pillars into murderous beasts. The corn-haired witch’s beast, a rhino, slew the other witch’s lion, earning her the victory. Celine merely yawned, Bijou yawning soon after. Timothy couldn’t help but smirk at this. He knew that the stakes were high and the times were treacherous, but come on. They were being a bit too hard on these youngsters. Celine had always been a prodigy right from her birth, and her daughter Elena had followed right in her footsteps, but Bijou had never been particularly fantastic. In fact, Timothy was dead sure that Bijou wasn’t nearly as good as the young Lykae in the room when he was their age.
“So, what do you think, Commissioner?” The huge hunter faced Celine, his eyes shining with the expectancy of a young kid who just finished a spaghetti picture frame, brimming with the desire for approval.
“We can work with this.” She retorted briskly, rising to her feet and wading out of the room, leaving them all behind.
ELENA collapsed in Timou’s arms after the burial rites for Seydoo were completed. Timou didn’t know how to respond to this new Elena; an Elena unlike anything he had ever seen. She seemed too broken, in a deep, intricate way. Even while they beheaded the dove and poured its blood over the roaring fire to clear his spiritual path, Elena had wept so inconsolably that a part of Timou had been scared she would taint the procedure with her tears.
“I hate losing people that matter to me.” She had muttered into his neck after the rites were done, her breath hot against his neck. And then she had drifted into a sudden sleep. She looked so vulnerable in her sleep, with her eyes shut and her features at rest. Timou fought a powerful urge to grab her boobs in his hands and feel their rich fullness.
“Behave, Timou. Behave.” He cautioned himself, taking an uninteresting stroll into the darker fringes of the forest to clear his mind, but finding no clarity.
When he returned to their spot, she was back up. He met her brows furrowed with deep concentration, as she stoked the fire with a snake roasting over it.
“It’s been three days, yet the High Commission hasn’t found us a rescue team,” she began, sounding venomous like the snake roasting before her in the blazing fire, the strength of her voice restored, “I blame Celine, that bitch.”
Timou cringed at her words. “Jeez!” he protested, words coming to him faster than even he could handle, “Don’t speak so ill of your mother.” This was Elena, and he could never dare to question her, but he had to call
her out on this one. She was letting her anger get the better of her.
Her face contorted with poisonous laughter. “Well isn’t she mother of the year?” The look on her face as she said those words was bitter enough to befoul the nearby freshwater lake. Timou couldn’t help but bristle at her words; at the uncharacteristic venom with which she spoke. Elena had always been a terrifying person. Now, she scared the living daylight out of him.
“She’s always been jealous of me,” Elena was saying, more to herself than to him, but audibly enough for him to make out her words very clearly, “I never asked to be better than her at magic. I wouldn’t have minded if she remained the most gifted witch of all time. It would’ve suited me just fine. At least, the burden of expectation and the pressure to deliver would have been minimal.”
She turned to face him. “Yet here we are. My mother is the most powerful individual in all the magical realms. She has a horde of forces at her disposal, ready to fulfill her every whim and act on her every call. But her daughter languishes in the depths of an abandoned forest, after sending THREE distress messages, because that’s just perfect for her shit agenda.” She spat in obvious disgust.
Then, suddenly, her eyes calmed and an unexpected smile lit up her face. She intensified her gaze on Timou, suddenly looking unnaturally coy. “You know what I’ve always liked about you?” she asked, her long, pretty lashes fluttering with the gentle breeze, “It’s the fact that you’re such a great listener. I could count all the sentences you’ve ever said to me on my fingers, and I’ve worked with you for half a decade!” Her right hand was stuck out in front of her, her left hand counting over it.
The Hunt (Of Blood and Magic Book 2) Page 4
