Call of Blood: A Novel of The Unnatural Brethren

by Silvana G Sánchez

  “What’s wrong?” Desperate, Phillip knelt beside him. “Ivan? Stay with me!” But his fledgling’s woeful cries turned into a muffled sound that soon faded.

  Ivan closed his eyes. Terebrant pain ripped every fiber in his preternatural being… What had he done? What was he thinking—drinking from a mysterious elixir? It could have been poison for all he knew!

  Bright crimson blood filled the screen of his mind’s eye. Swirling in a hypnotic dance, the blood entwined with shades of green, revealing the dense foliage of a jungle. Beyond the jungle lay a vast garden. Cascading fountains with shimmering waters caught the sun’s warming rays.

  Voices whispered in the trees. They grew louder and meshed into one unbearable cacophony that echoed in his brain.

  “This is the Blood of the King.”

  “It is forbidden!”

  “Drink, and you shall live forever.”

  A hideous screech broke into the voices, ripping his mind, hindering his ability to think. Ivan covered his ears with his hands. He screamed loud enough to silence the voices, and that noise—that harrowing noise!

  Somehow, it worked. Ivan stopped screaming. The noise was gone, the voices fell back into fading whispers, and the pain lessened enough that it became tolerable.

  Ivan opened his eyes.

  “Dear God! Ivan, are you all right?” Phillip’s eyes loomed in his visual field.

  Ivan sat on the floor. “I—I don’t know,” he said, checking his arms and legs. Nothing was amiss. Everything looked fine—no scales or pointy horns. What the hell had happened to him?

  “How could he do this to me—becoming a vampire? I don’t know that I can ever forgive him…”

  “What did you say?” Ivan asked.

  Phillip furrowed his brow. “I didn’t say a thing.”

  “No wonder he left her. She had no clue this was happening. The woman’s clueless!”

  What the hell was going on?

  More voices piled onto the first, and then some—until they were too many to distinguish from one another. Pandemonium stirred in his brain. Ivan took his hands to his ears and growled.

  “What is it, Ivan?”

  “Don’t you hear them?” he yelled, trying to block the voices with his own. “I cannot stand it, Phillip… It’s driving me mad!”

  “Oh, solitude… My sweetest choice…”

  “That voice!” Ivan said, getting on his feet.

  “What voice? Ivan I don’t hear a thing!”

  But he did hear it, and its vibrancy was one deeply engraved within his heart.

  “Places devoted to the night, remote from tumult and from noise… How ye my restless thoughts delight!”

  Ivan knew that song. It was one of her favorites in her youth, and how it still echoed in the labyrinths of her mind!

  “It’s her!” he said. “It’s Alisa!”

  “What are you saying, Ivan? Can you hear her?” Phillip asked, noticeably worried. “You must take this slowly. We don’t know the effects of that thing!” pointing at the flask.

  “I’ve wasted enough time.” Ivan tapped into her thoughts, shunning all other voices from his preternatural hearing. The image flashed before his mind’s eye: White sandy shores, a cobblestone footpath swallowed by a jungle, and an imposing security compound on top of a cliff.

  “I know where she is.”

  Phillip held his arm. “Ivan, please!”

  “I must go to her,” he said. “This cannot wait a minute longer!” Ivan turned to the doorway, willing to flee the room when his body lifted in the air and banged hard against the ceiling. “Ow! What the hell?”

  Ivan’s body seemed to be stuck on the ceiling. He waved his arms, struggling to come down, but it was useless!

  “Are you… flying?” Phillip said in disbelief.

  “I don’t know! Am I?” His heart pounded hard and fast. Breathe, Ivan! What if he flew out the window and kept rising to the stratosphere like a lost balloon?

  I must take control over this!

  Closing his eyes, Ivan took a deep breath. Slowly, he relaxed, centering his thoughts on returning to the ground.

  It worked.

  Following the same method, he lowered his body enough for his feet to touch the floor. “I think I’m getting the hang of this,” he laughed off, returning to midair.

  “Unbelievable!” Phillip said in awe, his gaze turning upwards.

  Ivan flew to the bedroom’s window. “Don’t wait up for me,” he turned to say. And flashing a smile, he flew outside, into San Francisco’s evening sky.

  Marianne & Jiao Long

  Darkness. The damp soil transferred its coolness to her bare feet. A putrid scent oozed from the stone walls and penetrated her nostrils with violence.

  Sickening.

  Marianne’s every limb hurt. A pulsing headache would not go away. How did I get here? She smoothed her hands over the muggy wall and got on her feet.

  I have to get out of here.

  Everything fell into place when Michael’s charming smile flashed in her mind. His understanding and acceptance of Marianne’s vampiric condition had left her speechless. If you’re into that sort of thing, I dig it, he’d said.

  The haunting image of Liam standing behind Michael, ready to sink his fangs into him suddenly appeared. Marianne’s knees buckled. She ran out of breath and her heart raced in panic as she remembered.

  He’s dead… Michael is dead.

  And she was here, trapped in a dark cellar. It never ends well in the movies for the character that’s locked in the basement… She shuddered.

  Her racing breath resonated within those four disgusting walls. Guided by her hand, she found a metal door. Locked.

  Panic pierced her stomach like a sharpened blade, but then anger took its place. This was all Liam’s doing, and she hated him for it.

  “Get me out of here!” she screamed, pounding the door hard, furious to have to resort to such helpless means.

  No answer came. Regardless, Marianne’s fist pounded on that door as if her life depended on it—because it did. Enough minutes passed when she realized all efforts were useless. Desperate to be free, Marianne leaned against the door and slipped down until she sat on the floor again.

  Reality hit her once more.

  “Michael is dead…” she whispered, warming her arms with her hands, weeping in the darkness.

  Jiao Long closed the door behind him. He marched through the room and stood behind the desk, both hands landing on its surface. It took him a few minutes to take control of his rapid breathing. His lips tightened in a grimace of frustration.

  “You had one job, Liam!” He swept both hands, throwing everything from his desk in a bout of fury. “This is not the first task I lay on your hands, why didn’t you kill her?!”

  Liam stood by the door like a stone guardian, both hands clasped before him. He blinked, and that made him look alive.

  “Answer me!”

  “Given the circumstances, I had to improvise…” he said in the lowest of voices.

  “So, where is she?” he asked, finally sitting on the chair.

  “She’s in the cellar,” Liam said. “Listen, it’s not what you think. I lost Tyler and Mark in the chase—she finished Lou with a single bite.”

  “You should be ashamed,” Jiao mused. “One vampire did all that… I’ve never had a single complaint about you, Liam. But them…” pointing outside. “They are useless, all of them! No wonder The Skull Splitter no longer supports our brethren.”

  “I killed her mortal lover, Michael Reese.” Liam took a step forward.

  “Well, at least someone’s dead,” Jiao said. “But now I’m stuck with Lockhart’s protégé under my roof! Why would I want that, hmmm?” narrowing his eyes. “Why isn’t she dead yet?”

  Liam stood before the desk. His fierce blue eyes gleamed for a second, and the corner of his lips curled in a malicious smile. “She’s bait,” he said. “We make it known to Lockhart that we have her, along with his sister, a
nd that we’ll finish both of them unless he’s willing to show up—that ought to bring him out of his lair and straight into the Devil’s mouth… And then—”

  “And then,” Jiao Long added, “we’ll destroy them all. Oh, I like the sound of that.”

  Liam slipped into the chair. “The coven needs purpose,” he said. “Purpose will provide a sense of unity to our brethren… And what is the one wish we all have in common?”

  “Ending Lockhart’s bloodline.” Jiao smiled. “I misjudged you, Liam. You’ve served me well. Destroy the Lockhart’s—”

  “—gain the Coven’s allegiance,” Liam completed.

  “Send the word,” rising from the chair. “I want every vampire to know of my brilliant plan.”

  Liam smirked, and bowing his head, he left the room.

  Elizabeth & Phillip

  Elizabeth turned off the car’s ignition. Lowering the window, she looked at the imposing iron gate that led to the villa’s gardens. A big house like that—she didn’t feel comfortable knocking on the front door.

  Getting ahold of the address had been an ordeal—she’d even sneaked into the dealership’s office and checked the files, but the registry showed a foundation’s address, not a personal one.

  It wasn’t until Elizabeth bumped into Bryan at The Devil’s Coven that she succeeded. He was an old friend of Phillip’s and told her where to find him.

  Looking down, she sighed. “I’m officially a vampire stalker.” She then softly pressed her brow against the steering wheel.

  Was it the right thing to do? Maybe it wasn’t the best moment to meddle in Phillip’s affairs. Another time, maybe. But not today.

  “Why not today, Elizabeth?”

  “Jesus!” She jumped off the seat and banged her head against the visor.

  “Jesus?” Phillip sniggered. “Have you forgotten my name so soon? I gotta say, I’m a little heartbroken.”

  Elizabeth hit his arm, her heart racing uncontrollably. “You scared the hell out of me!”

  “I’m sorry.” He smiled, raising his hands in the air, shrugging his shoulders. “I saw you parked back here and I couldn’t resist.”

  “It figures,” she mused.

  Phillip turned to her, softening his expression. He leaned towards her, smoothing his hand on her jawline as their eyes locked in a heartfelt stare. “I’m happy to see you, Elizabeth,” he whispered.

  You are such a tease, Phillip Blackwell… Why are you so damn irresistible?

  “Me too,” she said, feeling the warmth rising on her cheeks.

  “It’s been a while…” Phillip relaxed in the seat.

  “Has it? Oh, I don’t know…” But she did know. How to forget their last meeting at The Devil’s Coven, when they had that horrible argument—she wanted the Blood and he wouldn’t do it.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “You’re here now. You wanted to see me?”

  “Yeah, about that…” Elizabeth flicked the car keys with her fingers. “We have to talk.”

  “Very well,” he said, fastening the seatbelt. “I know just the place for a quiet conversation.”

  She frowned. Phillip was a blood drinker, an immortal being—he’d survived a deadly car crash, for crying out loud! Why would he even care to wear a seatbelt?

  “You should wear yours too,” he said, amused. “Come on, it’s your turn to drive.”

  “Why here?” she asked, making her way through the jostling crowd.

  “I like it here.” A simple answer, and one she couldn’t dispute.

  Elizabeth’s book café was packed. The place used to be a house long ago. She had adapted each room with comfortable sofas and chairs, charming coffee tables—all of it vintage furniture.

  Phillip followed her through the entrance into a narrow corridor. A heavy oak door lay at the end.

  “I keep this spot for myself,” she confessed, turning back. Elizabeth pushed the door, and the mesmerizing sight of the inner courtyard greeted them.

  A tall oak tree stood in the center, entwined with gleaming amber string lights around its many branches. A single table lay before them, illuminated by candles.

  Phillip’s gaze wandered in the courtyard, absorbing every detail of its cozy environment. “Your customers are sure missing out on this…” he mused.

  He moved towards the table. Pulling back the chair, he waited for her to sit. These charming gestures of his were enough to drive her head over heels for him.

  Elizabeth sat and waited for him to do the same.

  “So, how have you been?” he asked, following the compulsory social protocol—and he loved him for it.

  “I... don’t know how to say this,” she said, avoiding his stare. Was it too late for a thunderstorm to fall or for some cataclysm that would render this conversation over?

  How can I tell him that I met an irresistible immortal, so attractive that she compelled me to seduce her and drink her blood, and that only then, I realized she was his fledgling?

  “Ah,” he mused, raising his brow. “You’ve met Marianne.”

  Phillip had read every thought in her mind. And she was fine with it because it spared her the awkwardness of putting that obscenely delicious encounter into words.

  “She’s in danger,” Elizabeth said.

  Phillip’s entire demeanor changed. And though he tried to conceal his distress, the tightened muscles of his jaw and neck betrayed him.

  “What makes you say that?” he asked, trying hard not to lose control.

  “There’s talk at The Devil’s Coven…” she said, gaining a quick scolding glare from him. “They plan to destroy your family.”

  Phillip pursed his lips. “Those loathsome blood drinkers…” he muttered. “But this is nothing new, Elizabeth. They’ve always resented our family. They despise anything that shows the slightest grace amongst our brethren.”

  “That’s not all,” she said. Elizabeth took a deep breath. “A few nights ago, Marianne ventured into The Devil’s Coven with your sibling, Antoine… It rubbed them the wrong way.” She paused. “Liam’s group tracked her down. They killed her mortal lover, Michael Reese.”

  Phillip swallowed hard. Didn’t he know about Marianne’s affair?

  “And why should that concern me?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back in the chair.

  “Because…” she said, “they have her.”

  Phillip lost all trace of his wounded pride. His lips parted, his eyes widened, and he suddenly lost his breath. He took a minute to gather enough strength and focus to speak.

  “Tell me everything you know about this,” he said, leaning forward. “Who’s the devil behind this madness? Liam’s not as stupid as to undertake this on his own.”

  “Who else?” Elizabeth said. “The Coven’s new leader, Jiao Long.”

  “That bastard!” he growled, slamming both hands on the table. Phillip got on his feet. His eyes gleamed a feral blue fire. “Where are they holding her?”

  “Phillip…” Elizabeth recoiled from him in the chair. She hardly recognized him. “I’ll tell you everything I know. Just please… stay calm.”

  “Forgive me,” he said, returning to his usual serenity. He sat on the chair. “Please, go on.”

  “They locked her in the Coven’s dungeons.”

  “Those fiends!” Anger brewed inside Phillip as Elizabeth had never seen. And though he seemed calmed and collected, there was rage in his racing breath, flaring nostrils, and his tightened lips.

  “There was no assembly, Jiao Long wanted his announcement to be public to vampires and midbloods alike.” She paused. “Phillip, he’s declared war against you, and he will not rest until he’s destroyed every single member of your family.”

  Phillip gave her a mirthless laugh. “Let him try.”

  “There was talk of Eirik Bjorn…” she added.

  “The… Skull Splitter?” he asked.

  Elizabeth nodded.

  Phillip pushed and shoved mortals out of his way. Overwh
elmed by the warmth in the room, he stopped in the corner of the coffee shop to get some air. He couldn’t breathe. He needed a cigarette. He needed to get out of here… He needed her alive and well—to hell with everything else!

  Fuck! What the hell am I going to do? With Eirik Bjorn involved, all attempts to rescue her are practically useless!

  Phillip couldn’t take him down—not by himself. And there was no telling when Ivan would return or if he ever intended to come back.

  Eirik Bjorn had led The Devil’s Coven for centuries. Vampires hadn’t seen much of him in recent years, but being a millenary blood drinker, he could afford this distance. He was known as The Skull Splitter, and the reason for this nickname—well, it was pretty obvious.

  Eirik adhered religiously to the Black Veil—if and when it suited his interests. He was well known for inflicting harsh penalties upon those who dared oppose his authority.

  Ruthless, merciless, and without regrets, this vampire was one to be avoided at all costs. Not at all a suitable enemy…

  Marianne at the Coven’s mercy… The thought made his stomach turn.

  “Phillip, are you all right?” Elizabeth held his arm. “You stormed out of the courtyard without saying a word. You look terribly pale.”

  “I haven’t fed…” he mused, his thoughts wandering away.

  “I wish I could help you with that, but—”

  “That’s all right.” He sniggered in spite of his present frame of mind. “Elizabeth, please be careful. The Coven is to be trusted by no one. If Eirik or any of those blood drinkers so much as suspect your disloyalty, it would be the end of you. No one would be able to protect you, not even me… It would be best for you to leave the city for a while, stay off their radar. Things might get messy around here.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” she said, holding his hand. “I fear for you, Phillip. I’ve heard the rumors. I know Eirik Bjorn is a powerful and vicious millenary vampire…”

  He pressed her warm hand against his lips. “Dear, dear Elizabeth…” he mused, hinting a smile. “You must leave. Do it soon.” And releasing her hand, Phillip disappeared in the crowd.