The Chosen: A Tale of the Blood Breed

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The Chosen: A Tale of the Blood Breed Page 2

by A Tale of the Blood Breed (lit)


  “I don’t know. What am I going to wear?”

  “Oh, please. I’ll come over early Saturday, and we will throw something together. I’ll bring some dresses over if you can’t find anything. Besides, Kaleb has taken a short leave and said he would go out with us.”

  Kaleb was Kayla’s twin brother and in the Special Forces. The three of them grew up together, and Kaleb was like her brother.

  “So? Are you going to come out or be a party pooper?”

  She could hear the underlying excitement in Kayla’s voice and decided, against her better judgment, to let Kayla lead the way.

  * * * *

  Aleksei leaned against the one-way mirror that lined the whole upper level of his club, The Night Phlox. Dawn was approaching, and he could feel it in his bones, that tingling feeling that told him of the rising sun. The last of the clubbers were leaving, and the staff was making the final preparations for closing time. He made his way toward his private elevator in his office and placed his hand on the sensor. A familiar buzz sounded, and the elevator doors opened silently. Stepping inside, he pushed the button for the basement. There was one level below the basement, and below that was a catacomb of tunnels that ran the length of the city. Back when he decided to branch out to the States, he built the tunnels when Stone Brooke hadn’t even been developed. Those tunnels were used by members of his kind to travel during the daylight hours.

  He stepped out of the elevator and walked through the lightly lit concrete garage to the silver H3 that waited in the corner. All of the windows were completely tinted and wouldn’t allow any UV light to filter through them. All of the Blood Breed vehicles were built like this, and even though they would be protected in the vehicles, no one deliberately stayed out in their cars after the sun rose.

  Getting in, he started the Hummer and turned up the stereo. The soft notes of Beethoven filled the interior. Pulling out of the garage, he could see the sun starting to rise in the distance as he headed to his home in the mountains.

  Aleksei sat on the edge of his bed and ran a hand over his hair. He arrived home just as the sun was making its ascent into the sky. He could feel the heat and the UV rays from the ball of fire clear down to his bones. His skin felt tight and itchy, and his head pounded. He kicked his boots off and lay back against the rumpled silk sheets that covered his bed, and breathed out deeply. He hadn’t been sleeping very well and he was feeling it. He willed the lights off and closed his eyes, sleep consuming him almost immediately.

  * * * *

  The dream always started off the same, the darkness so thick it wrapped around him like a blanket. Aleksei knew it was a dream because his eyes couldn’t penetrate the darkness like they should have. Always in the dream he could never move or speak—like an unseen being held him in place. A light penetrated the darkness, and the scene change into one so familiar to him. He walked into a cave and looked down at a large pool of blood.

  They split up to hunt down the horde of Bloodless that wreaked havoc on the neighboring villages. He didn’t know it then, but it had all been a trap to separate the warriors and weaken the strength they had together. He fell to his knees in front of the pool of blood, the liquid so thick and red. He knew the blood was Dorian’s, knew that his brother’s life had been taken. Even in the dream, his throat grew raw at the image of his dear brother’s life being taken. He dipped his palm into the blood and threw his head back, the next scene playing through his mind in slow motion.

  He could see it as if he had actually been there, witnessing his brother’s death. It had been a trap. Unable to stand anymore, he ripped his hand out of the blood and roared out so loud stones fell from the ceiling. The room became dark once more, the scene changing yet again. Another cave came into view with a dirt floor—no blood, and rough, uneven stone walls.

  He tried to move forward, but it was as if an unseen force kept him rooted. Dorian stood in the center of the cave, his body tense and ready for any threat. Rogue males gathered around him in a tight circle, their weapons held high. They didn’t attack all at once—no, they fought Dorian one by one, giving him minor cuts and making him slowly weaken from the blood loss. The injuries were small but numerous—his body having a hard time healing itself. Dozens of Bloodless stood back, waiting for their chance to join in. Aleksei tried to go to him, tried to yell, but he could do no more than watch in horror.

  Dorian was a strong and cunning fighter, but the fact that he was alone while dozens of the deprived males circled him proved to be too much. Aleksei saw movement from the corner of his eye from a darkened corner. A Bloodless walked out, power clinging around him and showing he was the horde leader. He held a sword in his hand as he stepped behind Dorian. He raised the sword high, the metal flashing against the light of the candles, and swung it down. Just as the blade would have made contact with Dorian’s neck, he ducked and swiftly came up, bringing his own blade across the horde leader’s face. The wound went from his forehead to his chin, blood making a fast trail down his face. The horde leader hissed and raised his hand, halting his minions from attacking. His features were distorted as he smiled at Dorian, his teeth sharpened and stained.

  Dorian and the horde leader clashed together, swords clanking against each other and new wounds being created. All at once, his minions swarmed in and took down his brother. Dorian struggled fearlessly, but there were too many of them, and soon they had him belly down on the dirt.

  “Look at me!”

  Dorian refused to look up at the horde leader and spit on his boots. He squatted on his haunches and gripped Dorian’s hair, making them face-to-face.

  “It’s a shame you are not the king. No matter, though. Your death will cause your brother great pain and us a small measure of delight. Mark my words, Aleksei will soon be falling before my feet to lick my shoes clean. And when I have him on the ground like you are now, I’ll slice his throat like I am going to do to yours.”

  Dorian smiled a purely evil smile and spit in his face. “Try all you want, but my brother is far stronger and fiercer than you. It is you that will be licking his boots clean before he throws you out into the sun.”

  In a flash of movement, the leader took a dagger from within his boot and sliced Dorian’s neck open.

  * * * *

  Aleksei sat up in bed, breathing heavily and sweat rolling off him in rivulets. One of the reasons he didn’t sleep was because the dreams had become a more frequent visitor in the last months. It was nearing the anniversary of Dorian’s death. Every year for centuries, Aleksei relieved the horror of letting his brother down. Some tried to reason with him that it wasn’t his fault—that he hadn’t even been there, but when it came down to it, Aleksei felt responsible for Dorian’s death.

  He threw the sheets off and sat on the edge of the bed. He let his head hang between his shoulders and ran his hand over his sweat- dampened hair. He couldn’t remember how he had gotten to his room or gotten out of his clothes. Maybe if he found the Bloodless who killed Dorian, he could find some solace with his life. He searched the ends of the world for the killer, but to no avail. He could never stop until he found the one who killed Dorian. It didn’t help matters that all he had was the horde leader’s lingering scent that was left in the cave. That one scent was all he needed to find his brother’s killer.

  He pushed himself off the bed and walked over to the bathroom. He turned the spray on and adjusted the temperature so it was near scalding—just the way he liked it. He let his head fall under the spray and let the hot water wash away the remnants of his memories.

  * * * *

  Aleksei sat at the head of a long rectangular table in the lower level of his club. He wasn’t looking forward to this meeting, but it was inevitable. Sitting on either side of him were Blood Breeds whom he trusted with his life. Luca and Milo sat closest to him, his actual Blood Brothers. Dimitri sat next to Milo, his black hair and piercing green eyes making him look fiercer in the dim glare of the overhead lights. The last three, Nikolai, Damien, a
nd Garrik, sat at the end of the table, not moving or saying anything. On the other side of the table were the Lykens—the beings who were making his warriors so twitchy.

  “I don’t know why we have to be here with these dogs.” Garrik grumbled the statement like they were the filthiest creatures.

  Growls erupted from the Lykens, but everyone stayed where they were when Aedan, pack leader of the Lykens, raised his hand.

  “Garrik, it would be wise to bite your tongue. The Lykens are here on peaceful terms, and so we will treat them as our guests.” Aleksei didn’t like the idea of the Lykens here anymore than his boys did, but the fact remained that they had to find some kind of peace together if they were going to live in the same vicinity.

  The Lykens requested property from the Blood Breeds years ago, wanting to branch out their clan in the bordering mountains and forests that lined Stone Brooke. The Lykens and Blood Breeds were like oil and water, always clashing with one another. When it came down to it, Aleksei had to weigh the pros and cons of allowing them Stone Brooke territory. The Lykens would prove to be a very powerful ally if the need arose. So he granted a few hundred acres that were strictly for the Lyken clan to do with what they wanted.

  Aedan leaned back against the leather chair, strumming his fingers along the oak tabletop. “I asked a meeting with the Blood Breeds because there is a problem that I don’t think you are aware of.” Aedan’s Scottish accent was thick and held anger as well as irritation.

  “What is this you speak of?” Aleksei’s voice was rough and all but demanded an answer. “There can’t possibly be something so significant going on that we do not know about that would warrant a meeting called by the clan.”

  “Obviously this problem has been going on under your nose. Do the Blood Breeds not read the human newspapers anymore?” Aedan held his hand out and let Liyam, his second in command, put the thick Stone Brooke Times paper in his hand.

  Aleksei scanned over the front page quickly. The story was about a supposed serial killer, possibly related to a cult, who was going around killing young women. His instincts told him no human was capable of committing a crime such as this. The killings seemed too precise, too planned, and reeked of the Bloodless—Blood Breed rogues. All the victims fit the same physical description, drained of blood, and their clothing ripped precisely as if the killer was searching them for something. He could understand a rogue draining the victims dry, but ripping their clothing seemed out of place even for them. He put the paper down, his brain working to try and unravel what was going on. In the next instance, something monumental occurred to him. He stared at the far wall in shock, trying to not let his emotions and realization show too much on his face.

  “Aedan, thank you for bringing this to our attention, but you and your boys can leave now.” This was the Blood Breed’s domain, and therefore the Lykens would have to follow his command whether they agreed or not. The Lykens stood in unison, each one waiting for their orders from Aedan. They walked toward the door, Aedan stopping and looking back at Aleksei.

  “I don’t know what the fuck is going on here, but you better get it under control. We have our females and young that walk Stone Brooke’s streets, and I would hate to have something happen to them. You know what that would do to our alliance.”

  Aleksei knew Aedan wasn’t stupid, and he knew the Lyken leader sensed the change in Aleksei, but they were not a part of the Blood Breed. The Bloodless were not their concern, and a stare is how he would respond to Aedan. He looked down at the table, staring at the front page of the newspaper again. He didn’t know if what he thought was correct, but if it was, then the three female victims were just the start of the massacre.

  “Boys, we need to go to the Royal Scrolls, now.” Aleksei stood and pointed at Nikolai first. “Since you’re head of outer security, I want you to set up extra security around the club itself and around the perimeter of the property. I want Jaisin, Icezack, and Sergei to lead the security just outside the property. Garrik, I want you, Adrik, Youri, and Mekhale to do rounds inside the club. If what I think is happening, then we have a serious problem on our hands.”

  Aleksei and his warriors stood around a large circular table. They made their way down to the lowest level of the club, which housed the old scrolls and all the archives of the Blood Breed’s history. He had several thick, leather bound books laid out in front of him and flipped through the old, cream-colored pages quickly. He breathed roughly and stared at the page he had been searching for. He traced the tattered page and read aloud the Russian words printed on the paper. “Волосы темно, глаз свет, семян, она будет нести, ребенка на ночь. Полумесяц солнце где он должен родиться, хорошее и зла, обе стороны должны быть порезы. Быть Великих, много питания он проведет, король выносить все остальные – то, что должно быть объявленной.” He ran a hand over his hair and stared at each warrior. “Boys, we might have a major problem here.”

  “You have to be wrong. Are you sure?” Luca stared at him with horror etched into the hard planes of his face.

  “You know what I say is true, little brother.”

  “Hair of dark, eye of light, the seed she will carry, the child of the night. The crescent sun is where he shall be born, good and evil, two sides shall be torn. To be the great, much power he will hold, a king to rule all others is what shall be foretold.”

  Aleksei looked up as Dimitri spoke the old scroll verse in English. Years ago, before his father died, he spoke of a premonition that came to him in a dream. All Blood Breeds possessed a certain gift, precognition being his father’s. He wrote his visions in the old scrolls for all members of the Blood Breed to know. One night he spoke with Aleksei of a vision that came to him in a dream. In the dream, a dark-haired woman with light eyes would bear a son from the Blood Breed line. This child would hold the Blood Breed’s future in his hands and be able to control all that was otherworldly. The child’s future was shrouded in a mist as to whether he would rule all from the side of light or the side of evil.

  The rogues were definitely searching for something. The only problem was he didn’t know what that something was. His gut told him everything that was happening was a coincidence. No Blood Breed would commit such an unforgivable crime as taking a human’s life. No, these crimes were committed by a Bloodless.

  “I believe my father’s premonition is coming true. They are searching for this female who will carry the child that will rule over all others.” All Blood Breeds knew what the old scrolls foretold. Even the Bloodless, who once had been members of the Blood Breed, knew. “Boys, tomorrow night we will be hunting down some Bloodless for a little information. Gear up and prepare yourself for a long and enjoyable night.”

  * * * *

  He sat there staring at all his minions. They were on the floor and on tables—really anywhere they could be as they fed and fucked. He was their horde leader—they were his minions, but they were also called the Bloodless. A rather degrading name if anyone were to ask him. He had a name once long ago, but now he was just called Lord D. If his mood was pleasant, he might let one of the females he fucked call him Lord and Master D. On any other occasion, watching females get fucked would have been a nice way to kill the time, but not now. Things were changing, monumental things that were about to take place. A prophecy had been spoken by an oracle log ago. She spoke of a monumental event happening, one that would forever change the world.

  When he found
what he sought, all would bow before him and know him as their true king. He would soon be the rightful ruler of the Blood Breed, and all would kiss the very soles of his boots.

  Chapter Two

  Lana cursed under her breath as she juggled the bag in her hands and unlocked her front door. Kicking the door open with her foot, she quickly walked into the kitchen and set the grocery bags on the breakfast counter. She shut the door, pushed play on her answering machine, and sat on the couch. The robotic voice played from the machine, telling her she had one new message. Before the message played, she already knew it would be Kayla—it was always Kayla.

  “Lan, hey, you home? Guess not. Anyways, I’ll be over at about five tonight. I told Kaleb to pick us up at your house so we wouldn’t have to worry about driving home—in case we get drunk.”

  Looking at the clock, she decided she had enough time to take a little nap before Kayla showed up—knowing Kayla, they would want to stay out all night. She lay down on the couch and let the heaviness of sleep wash through her.

  Lana was at the place, a twilight that had her floating on the edge of consciousness. A loud thumping noise slowly penetrated the haze of sleep that consumed her. As she came slowly awake, she was aware of muffled voices rising up around her. She rubbed her hand over her eyes and stared at the ceiling. More banging continued, and it was then she realized it was coming from her front door. Someone called her name—a deep voice that was all too familiar. Kaleb.

  “Lana, open this door right now or I’m going to bust it down!”

  Confusion flowed into her, and she got off the couch and opened the front door. Kayla and Kaleb stood on the other side, Kaleb’s fist held high as if he were about to pound on the door again.

  “What?”

  “Lana, I told you I was coming over at five so we could get ready. When you didn’t answer I got worried and called Kaleb.” Worry laced Kayla’s voice, her expression matching that emotion.

  “We didn’t know if you were hurt or unconscious in there. I was ready to break the fucking door down.”

 

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