Blood Reign

by Harvey W. McCarthy

  "You entered: nine, six, eight, four, six, two, six, six, six, one. If this is correct, say yes," the robotic female voice stated.

  "Yes," Brian said.

  "Pardon," the voice stated, "I could not understand you. Please state…"

  "Yes!"

  "Pardon," the voice stated, "I could not understand you. Please state…"

  "YES! YES! YES!" Brian yelled into the phone.

  "Oooooo," Mikhaeli said, "I love it when you scream."

  "What?"

  The phone clicked. Brian shrugged. "What the hell…"

  The locks on all five suitcases clicked. Brian looked at Amy who smiled. She turned to the suitcase and the red LED screen requested that she press the flashing red button. She quickly pressed it and the light turned green. All five suitcases immediately switched from flashing red to green. Brian ran to the suitcase and opened the lock. The red LED screen said, 'Thank you'.

  It was the last thing that he saw.

  CHAPTER 22

  The sun had disappeared for the day, but no one had witnessed the bright, yellow orb for the entire day. Temperatures rapidly dropped as the cold front progressed through the region. The rain continued but a biting cold wind added to the misery of the day. The occasional wet snowflake tumbled through the amber glow of the streetlights. The populace of Halifax had expected their luck to change. The weather had been unseasonably warm and pleasant. The wet winter weather was expected. For Mikhaeli, the weather was perfect for her nightly prowl.

  The line outside of the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic was relatively short. After the sinking of the RMS Titanic, White Star Line had chartered a cable ship, CS Mackay-Bennett, to retrieve any bodies from the sinking. Several other ships joined the search and three hundred, twenty-eight bodies were retrieved by the Canadian ships. Five more bodies had been found by other ships passing through the area. Since Halifax was the closest major city, with available railway and steamship connections, the bodies were preserved and brought to Halifax. One hundred, fifty bodies were buried in Halifax cemeteries with the largest number being laid to rest in Fairview Lawn Cemetery.

  Because of this direct connection between the disaster and the City of Halifax, the traveling Titanic: The Artifact Exhibition, which had drawn record crowds worldwide, decided to hold a special showing of the exhibit at the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic. The museum, which was also home to several Titanic artifacts that had been retrieved along with the bodies, became the logical home for the impressive historical display of the disaster. The exhibit, which measured over twenty-five thousand square feet, displayed hundreds of items retrieved from the wreckage. Items, ranging from eyeglasses, dinnerware, and playing cards were all remarkably well-preserved and displayed for eager eyes to see. Mikhaeli impatiently waited her turn in the brief line as she prepared to walk back in time.

  After a five minute wait, which was an eternity for someone who never had to wait for anything, she stepped inside the museum. She could hear several expressions of awe from behind a curtain. She smiled at the young woman who stood behind the ticket counter.

  "How many are with you this evening?" the ticket lady inquired.

  "Just one," she replied.

  "That will be…"

  "But, I would like to purchase the remainder of the tickets for this evening," she said.

  The young lady blinked several times. "I…I don't know if I can do that," she answered honestly.

  "Can I speak with your curator?" Mikhaeli asked politely.

  People, who were standing behind her, groaned audibly. She smirked. She loved tormenting people. For the poor souls who had waited for this exhibit, this was a dream come true. For her, she had walked its actual decks and she was here for many different reasons. She smirked again as she noticed a man pushing his way to the front. She so loved confrontations.

  "What is the big idea, L…" he began to say.

  Mikhaeli held a one-hundred dollar bill over her shoulder. "Take it and fuck off," she said dismissively.

  "You think that you can buy me off?" he demanded.

  Another man behind her grabbed the money. "She can buy me," the second man said.

  The remainder of the group laughed as the first man turned red. Before he could speak, the young ticket vendor had returned with a tall, dark-haired man in his late twenties.

  "I'm Carl: An assistant to our curator, Mr. Russell. How can I help you?" he asked politely.

  "Thank you, Carl. First of all, I would like security to remove this man who has been harassing me while I have waited politely in line," she said.

  "Fucking bitch!" the man scowled.

  She smiled sweetly. "Need I say more?" she asked.

  "Of course not, ma'am," Carl said as he pressed a button on a microphone, which was placed near the front counter computer console. "Security to the front counter."

  "She is…"

  "She is standing here; sir and you are obviously not in her company. You can leave quietly," Carl said as two burly security team members arrived.

  "This is fucking bullshit!" the man exclaimed.

  The two security team members didn't hesitate. They each grabbed the man by an arm and dragged him through the crowd to the front door. He kicked and screamed like a drunken hockey fan after having one too many beers at the local junior hockey game. Several patrons laughed which only served to further infuriate the man. However, the group waited impatiently for the outcome of the ticket sale dispute. Mikhaeli noticed the restlessness of the crowd as she watched the unruly man's departure. She turned back to Carl and she quickly licked her lower lip.

  "Carl, right?" she asked.

  "Yes," he replied.

  "I am a researcher," she said.

  "However, ma'am…" he began.

  "And I am very wealthy," she added before the young man could finish his statement. "I need to do some independent research but I require absolute silence. I cannot complete my work with others around."

  The group of people began to groan audibly. They were becoming increasingly restless.

  Mikhaeli held up a finger. "I am willing to give a sizeable donation to this fine bastion of history for certain privileges."

  "You've got to be fuckin' kidding me," a man said behind her.

  She ignored the comment and continued. "As I said, I am willing to give a large sum of money to the coffers of this building. As well, I am willing to pay for the remainder of the tickets for the rest of this evening. On top of that," she said as she held up her hand as the impatience of the others grew, "I am requesting to reserve the establishment for these fine people, who have waited patiently, for tomorrow evening. I will pay for their passes for their inconvenience this evening."

  "Well, I…" Carl said.

  "Um, I am good with that," a woman standing behind Mikhaeli said.

  More and more people nodded.

  "Me too," the same man, who had cursed at her, said. "If she is willing to pay my way along with my wife's, I'll take my ass home right now."

  A chorus soon followed. Carl's jaw dropped. The young woman, who waited to sell Mikhaeli her ticket, placed her hand over her mouth. Soon, applause broke out and Mikhaeli smiled. She turned and waved her hand. The applause grew louder. She held up a hand. Soon the people calmed down and allowed her to speak.

  "I appreciate the applause, but it is I who should thank you. You are allowing me to achieve a lifelong dream. I was raised to appreciate what I have and to use it wisely. Helping anyone who isn't as fortunate as I is part of every fiber of my being. You are just getting what you truly deserve," she said.

  Applause broke out again. Carl shrugged.

  "People! People!" he exclaimed as he waved both hands above his head.

  The applause was silenced.

  He cleared his throat. "I will return momentarily with group passes. Since…"

  "Michelle," Mikhaeli stated.

  "…Michelle has been so generous, I cannot see it fit to deny her request. I will reserve the seven o'
clock showing tomorrow night for this group only. I just hope this lovely lady will be able to view it again with all of you."

  "Oh," she said pretending to be embarrassed, "You little flirt."

  Carl smiled. "Can't I make a request too?"

  She smiled wickedly. "Ohhhhh, I think that can be arranged."

  "Very well," he stated loudly again. "We will all view the exhibit together. I will return momentarily with your passes. Michelle, this young lady will take care of your bill for this evening."

  "Of course," Mikhaeli said as she smiled and winked at Carl, "But only if you act as my guide this evening after you help these fine people."

  Carl smiled. "Well, it will take me fifteen minutes or so to authorize each pass."

  She smiled again. "I can wait. Plus it will give us more alone time later."

  "DO HER ONCE FOR ME PAL!" a man yelled from the back.

  A slap from his wife promptly followed. Laughter ensued as Mikhaeli pretended to be embarrassed again. Carl, however, truly blushed. He waved and disappeared into his office. The ticket lady counted the people in line and wrote the number on a notepad. She tallied the total in the computer and swallowed hard. Mikhaeli reached across the counter and tapped her hand.

  "Trust me, it's worth every penny of it," she reassured.

  Her wicked smile had unnerved the young lady behind the counter. "One thousand dollars, ma'am," she stated cautiously.

  Someone whistled. "Damn!"

  Mikhaeli smiled and she removed another dollar bill-size envelope from her shoulder bag. She carefully opened the yellow envelope and shook its content onto the counter. The young museum employee nearly fainted at the sight of the stack of United States one-hundred dollar bills. Mikhaeli carefully counted out ten bills and handed them to the ticket agent.

  "Don't worry about the currency exchange," she said. "Either put it in the museum donation fund or put it in your own pocket as a tip."

  "I…I…I will put it in the donation fund," the ticket agent said.

  Mikhaeli nodded. "Very wise," she said before she handed the ticket agent another one-hundred dollar bill. "Here, this is for you."

  "I…I cannot accept this," the young woman replied.

  "Put it in your pocket and you can," Mikhaeli replied.

  The young woman smiled and slipped the money into her pocket. "Thank you," she said softly.

  "You've earned it," Mikhaeli said. "Now, where is that handsome Carl so he can give me a tour?"

  Before the young woman could reply, Carl stormed out of the back with two members of his security team. His face was white. Several members of the security team dashed out of the front door into the cold, autumn evening. The two members walking with Carl broke into a complete run and they also disappeared through the waiting crowd into the night.

  "Well," he said as he shook his head, "You have incredible timing, Michelle."

  She tilted her head to one side. "What do you mean?"

  "There has been an explosion," he said.

  She placed her hand over her chest. "Really?"

  The crowd began to murmur. Carl waved his hands. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I do not know anything other than what was told to me by security. I will have to ask you to wait outside for security reasons…"

  There were several groans and protests about the cold weather. Carl raised his hand again.

  "Please understand," he said loudly but not quite yelling, "I have to ask you to wait outside. I will only be another five minutes and I will bring your passes for tomorrow night."

  He turned to Mikhaeli. "Unfortunately, without a full security detail, I have to refund your money. I cannot have anyone…"

  "Why did your security team leave?" she asked.

  The crowd listened intently. He leaned over and whispered in Mikhaeli's ear. She purred as he begun to speak.

  "I will tell you privately," he whispered before standing tall and raising his voice again. "Please wait and I will be along shortly."

  "Okay," she said.

  The crowd growled and complained but they slowly exited the building. Carl held the door and then he locked it behind them. He dashed into his office. He found his supply of complimentary passes and he hastily signed each one. He had the young lady from the counter date each one for him. Carl unlocked the door and disappeared into the crowd.

  Five very cold minutes later, he returned to the warmth of the museum lobby. He blew on his hands and shivered. His staff shirt didn't offer much protection against the harsh, fury of Mother Nature. He smiled at Mikhaeli who licked her lips.

  "I bet I could warm you up," she said as she eyed him lustfully.

  Carl, who was taken by her beauty, swallowed hard. "I…I…I…"

  He tried to form words but he didn't want to seem too eager or forceful. He simply smiled and she returned the smile with a quick licking of her lips. She traced her red upper lip with the very tip of her tongue. Carl shivered and closed his eyes. He focused and reopened his eyes. Her bright blue eyes stared at him.

  "Unfortunately, Michelle," he said, "I cannot keep the building open. I do not have the required number of security guards as per our agreement with RMS Titanic Incorporated."

  "Why did the guards leave?" she pressed.

  "They are off-duty police officers. There was an explosion at one of the police stations. All police officers were called back into duty. Unless you know of a security agency who could provide additional security team members, I will have to refund your money."

  She smiled wickedly.

  * * *

  Sirens blared across the city as police, fire and emergency vehicles raced to the site of the explosion. The rain had slowed to a light, cold mist. Motorists struggled through roadblocks and detours. Side streets were full of commuters as the main streets were reserved for police and military vehicles. Ambulances raced to and from the destroyed police station. Hospitals were overrun with the injured and the dying. The explosion had destroyed the police station that housed the forensics unit. Along with the police station, three nearby buildings had become instant infernos when the natural gas pipeline had ruptured.

  Chris watched the emergency entrance of one of the major hospitals. Burn victims, who were near death, were rolled into the hospital. Their screams echoed through the howling wind. He clinched and unclenched his fists. The wind bit into his exposed damp skin but he ignored the pain. He watched from the shadows as ambulance after ambulance formed a morbid parade to the emergency room doors.

  Doctors and nurses dashed to and from the building. Doctors, who had been home for the evening, could be seen dashing across streets and through the parking lot. Their cars were nowhere in sight. He saw several doctors breathing heavily as they had apparently had run several blocks to get to the hospital.

  They, however, were not his target. Where there were disasters, there would be an emergency blood delivery for surgery. When there was a blood drop, vampires would not be far behind. The blood drop in their circles was nicknamed 'meals on wheels.' It was an easy meal. Chris would always visit the local blood deliveries for his next meal. The council had placed several warriors amongst the medical staffs in hospitals around the globe. They were placed to kill vampires who were looking for a quick feed or, in his case, to feed one of their own.

  Ambulances continued to come and go from the emergency room entrance. Chris watched and waited patiently. He knew that he shouldn't have stormed off, but he had been hunting Damien Le Doux for centuries. The man had slipped through his fingers in France after he had disposed of Lady Sangre. He tracked him to the colonies but the war between what would become the United States of America and England had prevented him from tracking Le Doux. People didn't know who to truly trust during that era but the French were helping the colonies, which made it hard for Chris to find his prey. Over time, the council had ordered him to focus on stopping the growing vampire presence in the New World and Damien Le Doux became a footnote in the council archives. However, Chris hoped that was about to
change.

  The refrigerated van approached the emergency room. Chris, who had spent many years traveling back and forth across the border between the United States and Canada, had made many friends in the Canadian Blood Services. Like the American Red Cross to the south, it was a national, non-profit organization that managed the blood supply for the all provinces, except the Province of Quebec, and territories that composed the country. The white van stopped and its amber hazard lights flashed in the cold, damp night. Four orderlies, dressed in green scrubs, dashed to the van as the driver and his passenger exited the cabin. Chris moved from the shadows.