by Jesse Teller
He found a chair in the corner beside a table with a decanter and a glass, and he sat. He grabbed the bottle, pulled the stopper, smelled it and almost gagged. Blood. This was not a bottle for the drone; this was for the vampire itself. He returned the bottle and waited.
A nerve-wracking hour passed where Rayph kept touching his chest seeking his fetish. He realized he was no longer used to being alone. At the touch of his fetish, his crew was always within reach. He was able to talk to someone all the time, no matter the situation. He felt alone now, and with that feeling came a creeping fear he was making a mistake. He had seen the plan perfectly in his mind. But the waiting would be the end of him.
He wondered about the sunlight and how much was left in the sky before the coffin lid slowly lifted and a slender, pale arm was visible. The hand boasted a huge golden ring studded with a massive emerald. Rayph rose and made a fluttering noise with his tongue that he knew the drone made when nervous.
She sat up slowly, looking forward as if fascinated with the wall. Her hair was thin and blonde. Her scalp could almost be seen under her hair. Rayph jumped to his feet, hurrying to the coffin. She turned her head looking more like a skeleton than a person. Rayph picked her up, her cold skin against his as she laid her cheek against his face. He carried her to a couch and laid her down. She looked up at him as if she were on her deathbed. Rayph stared into her pale eyes and felt as if she were looking into his soul. Her eyebrow lifted, and he turned away.
He returned with a wine glass full of blood, and she snatched it out of his hands. She drank quickly, slopping blood out of the corners of her mouth and onto her nightclothes. Rayph watched, fascinated as she drank, just then realizing he had never been this close to a vampire before. In capturing Tristan the first time, he had killed hundreds of them. In working his way to this point in the mission, he had had a close brush with one, and killed many more, but he saw a totally new image now.
The skin darkened a bit. She soon rose and rushed across the room to the bottle. She tossed the stopper of the decanter to the ground, lifted the bottle to her mouth and drank. Rayph watched, amazed, as her face, then her neck, pinkened and darkened. He walked around to see her face slowly becoming a dark, ruddy complexion. Her hands pinkened, though her feet stayed pale and frail. Her face was no longer gaunt. Muscle definition returned. Her face became full and vibrant, and she looked at him with pale eyes and grinned. Her teeth were colored with red blood, and her lips were thick and wet. She licked a slow, luxurious lap with her tongue before she went to finish the bottle. Rayph stepped forward.
“Mistress, please, you know how angry he was last time you filled your belly before feeding on another. He called it a wasted night and you were punished. Please, mistress, my feelings for you are too great. Do not make me watch that again.”
She snarled but set the bottle down and turned to the far wall where a second door waited. Rayph grabbed a candle and followed. “I do not need that light, fool. Put it out.” Rayph did as commanded. He stopped at the door, staring into the inky black. He longed to open his third eye for the vision it granted him, and he fought the nearly irrepressible urge to cast a light spell.
After a long, agonizing time, he heard her approach. He stepped back as she walked regally out of the room wearing a pale blue evening gown. A golden wire wrap held her hair up and off her neck. She wore emeralds and white gold draped beautifully around her neck. She looked up at him with a slightly bloody smile.
“How do I look?” she asked.
Rayph did not lie when he answered her. “You look ravishing, milady.”
“Tonight, he will be mine. She has no way to compare with me. I will win his favor, and he will feed me the ancient one’s blood. Tonight, I will rise to power.”
“As you wish, milady. How may I help?”
“You can stop all this driveling and stand like a man. By the gods, you are a fat unpleasant creature, aren’t you? Find something worthy to wear and keep your head down while I am talking.”
“Yes, milady,” Rayph said with bowed head. Ancient one. What could she mean by that?
Rayph found the drone’s room and ordered a servant come dress him. He watched in fascination as the servant worked. Rayph had always hated this part of wealth. The audacity of being so important you couldn’t dress yourself disgusted him. In his time with the royal families of the court, he had seen only a few of the kings dress themselves. Most were too pompous. Rayph looked at the man slipping a coat of silk on Rayph’s shoulders, and he wondered what that man was thinking. Rayph decided he didn’t want to know, and he turned away when the man was finished. His instinct told him to thank the man; his mind knew better.
Rayph met the drone’s mistress in the foyer and left with her out the front door. They climbed into a rich carriage, and she knocked on the roof. He looked at her beauty and youth and suddenly realized this woman was the drone’s wife. How had she come to be taken by the vampires and him not? How did he become her serving boy, a toy to play with and abuse? This drone was older. He had married a younger woman of great beauty, how had he treated her before the change? How much did she despise him now?
Rayph remembered the drone’s feelings and fears and the shock of his wife’s attitude. According to him, she had been a sweet girl. Now she was vile and dangerous. The vampire’s curse had turned her into a monster interested only in death and power, confirming once again there were no good vampires.
Rayph looked out the window of the carriage, looking up to the roofs they passed, but not seeing Smear. He shook off the fear that crawled in his gut, reminding himself Smear was the best trailer he had ever met.
The vampire beside him reached over suddenly and gripped him by the crotch. She squeezed painfully tight and twisted. She turned to face him and snarled. “Do you remember our wedding night?”
Rayph reached back into the memory he had stolen and found a horrible night filled with pain and debauchery. The drone had beaten and bitten her. He had made small cuts on her flesh, scarring her and marking her his own.
“I do,” Rayph said, pushing back his hate of the drone and his persistent fear.
“I think tonight, when we return to my home, I will mark you as mine. How does that sound?”
“As you wish, milady.”
“I think I will command a servant to take you,” she said. “Demola the stable boy, the big throbbing stable boy, will be ordered to take you. I think I might find joy in that,” she purred.
Rayph lowered his head, knowing the drone deserved the treatment. He nodded, also knowing it would not be his fate. She released his crotch as the carriage came to a stop. Rayph opened the door and helped her from within. The light of the mansion they stood in front of cast her ruddy face in a pleasant, yellow glow, and Rayph once again marveled at her beauty. He glanced at her chest, seeing the place he would shove his Ironwood dagger, and he looked away quickly as he felt her watching him.
“Did you see something pleasing, dear?” she said. “Something maybe you would like to touch or taste?”
“Something beautiful that no longer belongs to me, milady.”
“Do you remember the taste of my flesh?” she asked, pulling close with stinking breath that tickled Rayph’s neck. “Do you recall the way I squirmed under you?”
“I’m sorry,” he murmured.
“It is too late for apologies, you simpering idiot. Now, you belong to me, and you will watch me dance the night away. You will watch me kiss and stroke him, and you will remember the way I used to taste and the things I used to do to you.” She snapped her teeth at him. He felt a sudden panic she would bite him right then. Could he stop her? She had the strength of a vampire now. This was no longer a young little thing. This was now a monster, and Rayph was reminded of how dangerous a room full of her kind would be.
Surviving the Hive
They walked past braziers filled with fire that lined the drive and porch. She glided her way into the house like a feather on the wind. She kissed
other women and held her hand out for the lips of several men. They led her in, where a group of bards played delicate music and several couples danced. Rayph made his way to a miserable group of drones and looked across the room. A very attractive woman spun with a tray of wine flutes. She gracefully wove her way through the guests. Rayph noted the deft way she walked, the dexterous way she held the tray, and he suddenly knew her.
Trysliana spun close to him and held out a tray. “Would your mistress enjoy a refreshment?” she asked.
Rayph gritted his teeth, but a part of him felt relief at her presence. He walked along the wall to a small alcove and turned on her. “What are you doing here?”
“Serving a few drinks, backing your moves, most likely getting myself killed or worse. Kind of like Song, huh?”
She handed him a glass from her tray and motioned with her head at a decorative set of double doors in the back of the room. “They have twenty civilians bound and waiting back there. All walks of life. They are branching out from the wealthy. Start thinking of a way to get them out. Dreark is in the kitchen and Smear is in the stable. He has horses for us to escape with.”
“This was not the plan,” Rayph said, but she had turned away by then, leaving him holding a warm glass of blood. He decided not to get too angry, and he made his way to his mistress.
He slipped up beside her and said nothing, just handed her the glass. In seconds, he had drifted away, across the room to the double doors. He glanced about, seeing thirty or more ruddy complexioned vampires and more than a few pale, hungry looking ones. They seemed desperate to feed. Rayph would not get too close to them. He searched for any sign of a lesser door headed to the same room as the double doors but saw none. He moved away, looking at the windows and stepping close to the drop. Thirty feet down leading to trees and rocks. Maybe he could work with that.
He walked slowly around the dance floor until he came across a group of vampires gathered around one man. He tried to move around them, but the gathering dissolved, leaving him between four guests. With alarming speed, one of them grabbed him.
Rayph’s arm jerked up and around his back. He was locked. A warm, red hand gripped his throat, turning him to face a man’s back. In seconds, the man turned around, and Rayph looked into the warm brown eyes of Tristan the Sour.
Tristan’s cruel mouth turned up in a smile, and he looked at the one on his arm, the drone’s wife, watching, amused.
“Oh,” she said, “You found my dog. How good of you, Baren. Now if you will release him,” she said with a musical voice.
“We need to get started somewhere tonight. How about with the flesh of this swine?” Baren said. Rayph looked into the eyes of Tristan, searching for any kind of recognition and seeing none.
Tristan smiled with a handsome, tanned face. “How do you know this man, Baren?”
The man holding Rayph’s wrist pulled harder, and Rayph felt as if his arm would break.
“Many times he outbid me on a job for no reason other than spite,” Baren said. “He would take a job at cost just to beat me out. He nearly ruined me many times. He spoiled my sister’s chastity. He was a bane to me. Let me drain him for your amusement and be done with him.”
Tristan smiled and nodded. His hand became a blur as he swiped it across Baren’s throat. A spray of blood splashed Rayph’s face, head, and neck. The man’s hand twitched on Rayph’s neck. It tightened once on his arm before Baren dropped to the floor in a heap. Rayph was shoved out of the way as a dozen rushing vampires dove to feast on the remains of Baren’s body. Tristan grabbed Rayph and pulled him close, taking him across the room to the stairs that led to the double doors.
The crowd below seethed and churned as they lapped blood from the floor, then they licked one another after every drop had been sopped up. Rayph stared, disgusted and enthralled as they smeared blood from one another’s faces and bodies.
Tristan pulled Rayph in tight and looked to the bards in their balcony. The music came to a sudden stop. All eyes sought out Tristan. “Listen to me and listen well, all grudges and vendettas are now washed. When I hear of a man or woman wishing harm on another vampire or their drone, I will retaliate with deadly force.”
Tristan turned toward the crowd, now looking up with reddish faces, and wrapped Rayph in a tight embrace. “We are all family now. You all serve the same master. You all work toward the same goal. Can anyone name that goal?”
“Domination of the world by vampires and their drones,” Rayph said. Tristan turned, looking at Rayph as if for the first time.
“Why, yes that is correct. Who are you that you have such an understanding of us?”
“He is my drone and has heard me talking on this matter many times,” Rayph’s mistress said. “He repeats what he hears, though he should learn when he is being spoken to and when he is to be silent,” she said with a snarl.
“Is this the way of it?” Tristan asked Rayph. He stepped back, looking Rayph in the eye, seeking something out of step. Tristan eyed Rayph with growing interest. A flicker of recognition and a smile played itself across Tristan’s face.
Rayph glanced beyond Tristan to Trysliana, who stood now with a tray in hand, her other hand resting behind her back.
“He knows what I know and nothing more,” the drone’s mistress said. “He is trying to embarrass me, trying to rise above his station.” She stepped closer as Tristan looked deeper.
Tristan knew.
Rayph’s throat went dry.
“All eyes to me, for I have a sweet surprise for you tonight,” Tristan said.
Rayph stepped back, flexing his fingers. Dreark entered the room, pushing a metal cart bearing silver dishes.
“An enemy has come to our hive.” His speech trembled slightly. He took half a step back as Rayph took a whole step forward. “Rayph Ivoryfist has joined us tonight,” Tristan said.
Rayph spoke a word and a hole ripped in the air above his hand. An Ironwood sword dropped into his grip, and Tristan laughed. Rayph spun, his sword slashing the drone’s mistress through the back of the neck. She dropped to the floor, gushing blood as every vampire in the room rushed forward.
Rayph stomped on the woman’s back as he turned and loosed a vicious spell that threw all attackers into a heap at the bottom of the stairs. Tristan turned, running away, rushing straight for Trysliana. She tossed her tray aside and whipped out a dagger. She stabbed him in the heart, and he gasped.
“Trys, run!” Rayph screamed. Trysliana ripped her dagger from his heart and turned away. Tristan grabbed her by the back of the hair and jerked her back. He spun her around and spoke a breaking word that rippled as it left his mouth. He touched her forehead with his finger as he pushed her to the ground. Trysliana hit the floor as another wave of vampires hit Rayph. He stabbed the nearest vampire through the heart, leaving the sword there. He clapped his hands together in front of him, tossing another wave back. Dreark screamed and Rayph turned to see Tristan gripping the big man’s arm. The skin seemed to shred and peel as Tristan turned, looking at Rayph. Rayph could not see Trysliana. He surged forward to get to her.
Tristan smiled and waved a hand as he leapt backwards, landing on the balcony behind him. He shoved bards aside and made for the hall beyond. Rayph touched Trysliana’s fetish. He screamed as loud as he could.
“Dissonance, I need you now!” He turned toward Dreark, his arm flayed of all skin as he stabbed and broke every vampire that stood before him. Rayph whistled, and Dreark looked up.
“Protect her. I have to go after him,” Rayph said.
Dreark nodded as he snapped a vampire’s neck. He shoved his way forward and fought to win Trysliana’s side. Dreark stood over Trysliana’s body, soaked in a shell of her own blood. Vampires fought to get to her as a portal opened behind him. Dissonance stepped through, leading with a spear boasting an Ironwood tip. Rayph turned to Dreark. “Get her out of here. Dissonance, come with me.”
Rayph snatched Trysliana’s fetish and pinned it to his chest. Gripping Diss
onance, he leapt for the balcony as he spoke his levitation spell. They rushed up the hall. Rayph whispered the word to another spell, suddenly seeing black footprints marring the floor. Rayph ran, Dissonance praying behind him.
“Smear, I need you to be ready,” Rayph whispered as he followed the tracks.
“Is Trysliana okay?”
“No, she is not. She needs help, but I can’t think about that right now. I told you to let me do this alone. You weren’t properly prepared for him.”
“How do I help her?” Smear asked.
“You’re not going to help her. You’re going to help me.”
“Boss, listen—”
“No, Smear, you listen. I need your help now. There are wounded vampires back there, and I need you to bind them and guard them.”
“But—”
“No, we have a job to do. Now do it!” Rayph said. “There is a room behind a double door with innocents in it. You have to protect them.”
“Let me—”
“No, please Smear, do what I ask.”
They were headed for the topmost tiers of the mansion. Kat was near. Rayph could feel her power radiating off the walls. He whispered to Dissonance behind him.
“We are heading into her lair. She is faster than Smear. She is stronger than Dreark. She can take any amount of punishment we can give her if she is at full power. If not, we can possibly take her, but we have to deal with Tristan either way. I need you to keep him off me. Don’t let him touch you. If he lays a hand on you, you’re doomed.”
“What kind of magic does he wield?” Her voice was husky with fear, and Rayph hoped she was ready for this. “Is it holy? Is it a wizard magic?”
“I don’t know what it is. No one does. Just keep him off me, and don’t get touched. He can die. I’m just not sure how. If he throws blood at you, dodge it or block it with your sleeve, but don’t let it hit you.”
