Blood Queen

by David Horrocks

  As Vincent moved to stand by the masked queen on the opposite side to his brother, she turned her attention to Sam and the other wolves that were present. “I know two amongst your number, but who is the third?”

  Sam was about to answer for himself when he received a sharp elbow to his side, causing him to stagger. “No one important, your highness.” Rahna quickly replied, not wanting to give him the spotlight.

  “I will be the judge of that!” The queen's voice took on an aggressive tone, her voice projecting itself into Sam's mind. From the look of it Rahna had undergone the same unusual experience as she visibly flinched.

  Instead it was Vincent who stepped in to answer the question, coming to his lieutenant's aid. “He's one of Katherine's whelps. She dispatched us to hunt them all down and bring them back to her, but instead I have brought this one to you.”

  The masked queen clasped her hands together in front of her, now sounding more pleased than she had just a moment ago. “Another one? A most interesting twist of fate. Perhaps he'll be of use to me...”

  Philippe turned his body to face her, curiosity filling his eyes as he voiced his concerns. “You wish to head back north, Madame la Reine? To Calgary? It is not safe for you to return.”

  Inclining her head towards her knight, the queen replied thoughtfully. “My time as sovereign of that fair city is over, but don't misunderstand me. I do not revel in seeing my kingdom destroyed by someone I once considered to be one of my dearest friends.”

  “Nor do I.” Philippe agreed, accepting her response.

  The queen continued. “When you lose the love of your people, you lose everything. It's not something that I can win back so easily.”

  “They may not love you, but they hate Katherine.” Vincent added, drawing her attention back to him as if he were in a verbal competition with his well spoken sibling. “You might be surprised by how they react on your return.”

  The queen stepped away from them both, the brothers following her every move as she began to pace back and forth. It looked as though she was considering her options, the choices weighing heavily on her mind. She could cross the river to the relative safety of Louisiana and live under the rule of another, never again to rise to the throne. Alternatively, she could return to take back the title that had been stripped from her, reclaiming her rightful place as the sovereign of Calgary and its surrounding lands.

  Unable to do anything else but watch the events as they unfolded, Sam carefully nursed his side. He was fairly sure that his ribs were broken, the bruising around them already starting to take hold. The injury would eventually heal, but it would likely never be the same as it was before. Nothing ever was.

  Rahna waited impatiently to Sam's immediate right, flexing her fingers as if she was still expecting a fight. That or maybe she was preparing to strike him again. As for the younger looking man to his left, he mostly kept to himself, not wanting to draw any attention his way.

  Almost a minute passed before the queen stopped in her tracks, turning to announce her decision to the brothers who observed her with eager anticipation. “I'll come with you, Vincent, for old times sake. We'll work to free my kingdom from Katherine's oppression, but I will not sit upon the throne. Once all is said and done, we will go our separate ways. After that I hope that our paths never cross again.”

  Vincent nodded his head with satisfaction. “As you wish. I don't know who will take her place, but they can't possibly be worse.”

  Philippe looked almost disappointed by the declaration, but didn't dare to make his feelings known. He instead chose to keep his mouth shut, a smart decision on his part. It was clear that he still saw the woman that he protected as nothing short of royalty, whether she had an official title or not. He would lay down his life for hers no matter where she went or what she decided to do.

  The queen raised her hand to signify that she wasn't finished talking. “There is one small stipulation however...” Both brothers raised their eyebrows in surprise, neither having expected her to add any amendments to the deal. She continued with her request regardless, her voice speaking with renewed authority. “First we must rescue my precious Antoinette from that dreadful asylum. The time has come for her suffering to end.”

  Chapter Seven: The Dove's Song

  Nestled between two bars on a small street adjacent to the main strip, the classically styled theatre was smaller than those found on Broadway, but it had a certain charm to it that some of the larger establishments often lacked. It boasted a modest sized stage, with red velvet curtains embroidered with gold thread, the hardwood surface polished to a bright sheen. There was enough seating to fit an audience of nearly a thousand, with box seats and balconies catering to those who could afford the higher ticket fees.

  For an older building, the theatre was well taken care of, showing no visible signs of neglect. The impressive architecture was reminiscent of a time where people took pride in their work, the craftsmanship a masterpiece of techniques lost to the sands of time. No modern design could match the sheer elegance of an interior outfitted with expensive drapes, sculpted plaster, and a ceiling painted with such attention to detail that the locals claimed it would put the Sistine Chapel to shame. Even the supports were made from an aged mahogany, the carefully carved beams worth more than most could ever hope to pay.

  The front of the auditorium was illuminated in warm hues, the bright spotlights centered upon the star of the show. Nathalie St Claire was the owner of the theatre and its headlining act; a radiant woman far older than she appeared and one of Katherine's few remaining descendants. The acoustics amplified her powerful voice, carrying it to every corner of the room as she hit the high notes with ease. Her flawless singing technique was impressive to say the least, and was something that others strived to achieve throughout their entire lives. It was a siren's song, a symphony of the night that satisfied the soul and left the audience wanting more.

  The musicians that had been crammed into the limited space of the orchestra pit did their best to keep up, but it seemed as though they were being led instead of setting the pace of the music. They were outclassed by the singer in every way, her white sequin dress shimmering in the light, styled black hair clashing with her ghostly skin and blood red lipstick. The confidence that she put on display betrayed her many years of experience, her hands gently caressing the microphone stand as if it were a long lost love. She controlled the space around her, leaving onlookers open mouthed in awe of a performance that deserved nothing less than a standing ovation.

  Alice leaned up against Matty for support, his strong arms wrapping around her as they both listened in wonder. In that precious moment her troubles seemed so far away, the pain that the visions caused barely a flicker in the back of her mind. It wasn't a scheduled show, the stage hands and side acts sitting in the audience as they waited for their turn to practice, all of them overshadowed by a woman with more natural talent than they could ever dream of.

  Alice didn't want to interrupt, deciding to wait until after the song had ended before addressing Nathalie in person. She didn't want to disrupt such a rare and beautiful performance, the music touching her in a way that she thought was no longer possible as it brought with it some much needed hope for the future.

  The way Alice felt reminded her of the theatre in Calgary, where she had watched Entropy of the Heart put on a powerful display of their own that left her feeling starstruck. It was the one and only time that she had seen Christie Reece in person, albeit from a distance, and with no idea of who she was or what significance she held to Sam at the time. However, even that extraordinary show was a fading memory in comparison. There was something about this particular performance that seemed to quell the beast inside if just for a time, the lyrics far more ancient and powerful than anything that the band had offered, although just as hypnotising.

  Alice still felt saddened by the fact that she had never introduced herself to Christie. The woman had meant so much to Sam and her death had scarred
him deeper than anything else that had happened in his life. Perhaps if she was still alive then he wouldn't have been quite so broken, Alice's guilt about his capture returning with a vengeance. Without aid, he would surely be lost forever. Nathalie absolutely had to assist them, she had to stand up against Katherine and help them get their friend back. As part of their bloodline, she had to feel some sort of responsibility for what had happened. She couldn't possibly stand by idly as the Blood Queen continued to rule with fear and oppression, could she?

  As soon as the music was over and the lights raised, Alice made her approach with Matty in tow. She felt nervous at the prospect of speaking with Nathalie St Claire, but she reminded herself that they were a family of sorts. All three of them shared the same maker in Renée Girard, who in turn was one of Katherine's children. They were blood siblings, not by birth but in death, and she had to sense the bond that they shared. She had to feel sympathy for their plight.

  Making their way up the narrow steps that led to the stage, Alice could already feel the suspicious stares of the gathered masses upon her. They began to murmur between themselves, however no one made an attempt to halt their approach. Walking hand in hand with Matty, Alice led the way with cautious determination. She was well aware that they needed help and that both of them were living on borrowed time. After all, they couldn't keep running from Katherine forever.

  Nathalie turned to face the two of them, the light glinting in her green eyes. She still proudly represented the roaring twenties, her classically cropped hair resting just above her shoulders. A beauty spot decorated her left cheek, surrounded by a liberal amount of rouge that gave her a fake blush of life. She looked puzzled at first as she caught sight of the strangers upon her stage, her nose scrunching up in irritation. “Yes? What is it?”

  “Excuse me, Miss St Claire?” Alice said quickly, letting go of Matty's hand as she put on a warm and welcoming smile.

  “Can you not see that we're rehearsing?” Nathalie waved her hands in the air. “Who do you think you are?” Her voice was overly dramatic and exactly how Alice would have imagined it, a true entertainer through and through.

  There was an awkward silence as every conversation in the room ceased altogether, all eyes now upon Alice. She felt uncomfortable up there in front of them all, but she had already come this far and had to at least attempt an introduction. “My name is Alice Delaney, and this is Matthew Walker…”

  Nathalie cut her short. “I'm sorry, darling, autographs will have to wait.”

  Alice shook her head, trying to get a grip of herself as everyone continued to stare at her. “No, that's not why we’re here.”

  “Then spit it out, girl!” Nathalie snapped. “We have a busy night ahead of us and can't afford these types of interruptions!”

  Alice forced the words out of her mouth, not wishing to be spoken over again. “It's about Katherine...”

  The mere mention of the name caused the singer to freeze, looking very much like a rabbit caught in headlights. The fear in her eyes was instantaneous and so very real. “Ka… Katherine?”

  Matty added his own voice to the proceedings. “Yes, Katherine Louviere. You haven't forgotten her then.”

  The woman shook her head so slowly that it barely seemed to move, the horror upon her face genuine and easy to read. It came as a surprise when she spoke again just a few short moments later, her voice projecting for everyone to hear as she gestured towards the door by the foot of the stage. “Everyone out! Practice is over for tonight! Tomorrow, we'll take it from the top!”

  Alice stood her ground while everyone else began to file out of the room. Matty made sure to stand close by, preparing himself for whatever happened next. There were a few grumbles and murmurs, but everyone did as they were told, only taking a moment to gather their belongings before progressing to the nearest exit.

  Nathalie remained still until the last person was well out of earshot, her eyes wide as she looked back and forth between the two who stood before her. She didn't stay quiet for long after that, her voice speaking in hushed tones as she addressed her guests once more. “I think we need to talk somewhere a little more private...”

  **********

  “So Renée Girard is your maker?” Nathalie queried, sounding almost baffled.

  “Yes, she is.” Alice replied with a slight smile.

  Matty just nodded, having remained his usual quiet self for the majority of the conversation. He never was that good at talking to people that he didn't know, feeling uncomfortable in unfamiliar company.

  “And to think there was a time when she called me special…” Nathalie seemed disappointed as she realised that the one who made her, the vampire who had once chosen her as her sole companion, had since found replacements.

  The three of them had made their way down to the basement and into a dressing room with Nathalie's name engraved upon a plaque on the door. Stepping into the room was like stepping through a portal to the past, the entire place decorated as if it was from the nineteen twenties. All sorts of knick-knacks lined the shelves, with black and white photographs depicting the theatre's grand opening framed on the green painted walls. Even the large mirror above the dressing table was classically styled, with a row of light bulbs across the top. An assortment of perfume bottles and beauty products were scattered across most of the available surfaces, the rest of the period furniture draped with various costumes, fur coats and an impressive amount of dresses.

  From what Alice could see, it looked as though Nathalie slept down in that same basement, a four poster bed only just visible through a crack in a second door. It too was used to hang various pieces of clothing, with racks for shoes and other accessories lying just beyond. Nathalie was a fashionista that was for sure, or rather she had been at some point in time; her taste in clothes now somewhat dated. The style that she favoured hadn't been popular in almost a century, her hope that it would some day return not yet realised. Perhaps if she lived long enough, the old fashions would make their triumphant return in some type of retro phase that the younger generations often favoured.

  Nathalie grabbed a pack of cigarettes from a nearby drawer and placed one into a long holder, quickly lighting it before taking a drag. It was a disgusting habit that should have died out when she did, but it was one that she still clung to like the last vestiges of her mortal life. The strong scent of burning chemicals soon filled the room, the smoke cloud swirling about their heads and sticking to their clothes.

  “How well did you know her?” Nathalie asked, sounding a little more stressed than before. She perched herself upon the edge of her table, one hand supporting her as the other continued to feed her habit.

  “Not very well…” Alice responded politely, doing her best to ignore the smell. She remained by the door, her tall companion standing close by.

  Matty frowned, his sensitive nose twitching as he was clearly bothered by the stench of tobacco. “Not well at all.”

  Nathalie started to reminisce about old times, her green eyes staring off into space. “Renée taught me how to love, in a time where those feelings were taboo.” She paused to take another long and thoughtful puff of her cigarette before continuing. “We were going to experience all that the world had to offer together, but it just wasn't meant to be. She began to grow paranoid… Said that her maker was out to get her, and that she was siphoning off her people and assets.”

  Alice looked over at Matty, catching his eye with a concerned look before turning her attention back to Nathalie.

  The singer took another long drag of her cigarette, a look of sorrow and regret upon her face. “Of course, I didn't believe what she said… I should have, but I didn't.”

  Alice continued to listen with quiet curiosity. She knew all too well what Katherine was capable of and wasn't surprised to hear that others had fallen prey to her schemes. The woman didn't seem to have any love for her creations, whereas it sounded as though Renée had cared for her offspring before her descent into madness.
>
  Nathalie closed her eyes as red hot ash continued to build up at the end of her cigarette. It was in danger of breaking off and falling to the carpet, a fact that she was seemingly oblivious to as she continued her tale. “The paranoia bubbled away inside, until her mind couldn't take it anymore. I wasn't able to offer her comfort any longer, especially once she accused me of working against her…” She visibly trembled at the thought, the memories still fresh in her mind. “One night, I found Renée down here, in this very room… She had torn out her hair, clawed at her face… She was screaming about how Katherine was in her head and that she couldn't get her out.”

  Just before the ash from her cigarette dropped to the ground, Nathalie tapped it over an ash tray and let the remnants fall. It was clear that the memories were difficult for her to talk about, but she managed to push on nonetheless. “I went to get help. I wanted nothing more than to see her taken care of, but when I returned she was gone…” There was a short pause as she stopped to shake her head slowly. “That was the last time that I ever saw her.”

  Alice was horrified by the story. She had never known Renée as a person, only ever seeing what she had become. Both her and the fanged goddess that she had encountered were two completely different entities, but they had both inhabited the same body. If only Alice had met the woman before Katherine had permanently damaged her brain; it sounded as though it would have been a worthwhile experience, far from the unhealthy relationship that Alice shared with her former mentor.

  “Sorry, darling… I can't come with you.” Nathalie's words weren't what they wanted to hear. She sounded weary now, as if she had waded through a thick swamp of dark memories that had sapped her of strength.

  “Why not?” Alice queried, ignoring the disgruntled sounds that came from Matty's direction as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

  Nathalie didn't waste any time responding, her voice wavering slightly as she tried to disguise her fear. “I refuse to let that woman destroy my life like she did Renée's. I won't spend my nights worrying about if and when she is coming for me.”