Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable people in this story, they and the concept of the Night World and soulmates, belong to the lovely L.J Smith. I do, however own any of the non-recognisable people, such as Laurana Blackrose, and Daybreak's children. I am not making anything from this, this is just for fun.
Well folks, I'm at it again. Another fanfic, I'm just bored right now, and I have nothing to take my mind of it except writing fics, YAY! This fic is actually set in between "The Dark Prince" and "The Next Generation of Daybreak." It kind of has a story of what was going on when the kiddies were…well, KIDDIES! Don't worry; I will be updating "The Next Generation of Daybreak" sometime soon. So…leave a review and let me know what you think of this fic.
Also, anyone who has read "The Last Vampire" series by Christopher Pike, may recognise the start of this fic, I have to admit, I did borrow it from the second book "The Last Vampire 2: Black Blood", but I also added a few things of my own to it. And another thing, the fighting scene between Laurana and Ash, the start of it was taken from "Night World 7: Huntress." I didn't know what to do for a fighting scene, so I used part of it; the rest of it is mine. So…enjoy and let me know what you think? ;) Anyone see "The Passion of the Christ"? I saw it last night and thought it was…emotional, weepy but an all around good movie. *Applauds* Well done Mel Gibson! I'm just wacky today; ignore all of the craziness, lack of a boyfriend! It's kinda what happens when your boyfriend dumps ya!
Princess of Darkness.
Prologue.
I am a vampire, plain and straight. I have long jet-black hair that goes down to mid thigh, dark brown eyes that have been mistaken for black, high cheekbones and well-sculpted lips. I wear tight black Italian cut leather trousers, black leather thigh boots, black leather bra top that criss crosses on my back, and an Italian cut long leather duster that goes down to my ankles.
My name, in case you were wondering, is Laurana Blackrose. I appear to be around seventeen or eighteen, but I can assure you that I am much older than that, looks can be deceiving. My real age has so many zeros behind it that I cannot count for the number is too great.
I prowl the streets of Las Vegas, the bright lights of the Strip bathing the streets in multi colours. I pass a towering black pyramid hotel with a huge sphinx in front. Lasers are flashing out of the sphinx's eyes. I am hunting for a vampire who has been leaving murders in his or her wake, last week a twenty-year-old girl was found behind a pile of bushes just off the Strip. She was raped, her throat viscously ripped out, and all of her blood was missing. A sign that a vampire had attacked her.
I have been called by my boss Thierry Descouedres, to find the bastard and bring them down. I am one of the best assassins that Lord Thierry has, I am almost as old as he is, though he has quite a few years on me. The same vampire made me that made him, her name was Maya; the most ruthless, bloodthirsty vampire the planet had ever seen. Maya was the very first vampire, the most powerful. But Thierry's soulmate, Lady Hannah, killed Maya in self-defence, Maya was going to kill Thierry, so Hannah killed her.
I am actually related to Thierry, I'm his great, great, great…whatever niece. His brother, Conlan, was my ancestor. When Thierry went to sleep for thousands of years, his brother watched over his "grave" and his daughter did the same, and her daughter, and her daughter's daughter, all the way down to me. When I was around eighteen, Thierry rose up from his makeshift grave, and I took him in to get adjusted to the new way of things. I was a witch before I became a vampire…though I still do spells and things, I may be a different species, but I still learn my old heritage.
Maya came to me one night and demanded that I tell her where Thierry, or Theorn as his name was back then, was. I refused and she decided to make me a vampire so that Thierry would come to her, but it didn't work. We both ran away when I woke up.
Ever since Circle Daybreak won the Millennium Battle, there have been a few rouge Night People. Just last month Daybreak eliminated a pack of rouge werewolves attacking humans left, right and centre. I was brought in last night to see if I can get rid of the most recent of the Night People. They have been told that they may stay alive, if and only if, they abide by Daybreak rules. But a few stragglers have decided to disobey those rules.
Wait a minute. What's that? I am pulled out of my past because I can see a figure running on rooftops. This figure is male, around nineteen and is an African-American. He has dark brown skin, black hair and, from what I can see, dark eyes. I jump onto a dumpster and launch myself onto the rooftop and follow him.
He looks back at me, and snarls. His top lip pulls back and I can see two long pointed and sharp, translucent fangs. I look into his dark eyes, and see a silver light in them; they also reflect the light from the Strip. I am on him in almost an instant, but just at the last second, he spins out of range. He then takes off at a dead sprint. I take off after him, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, bending my knees when I land so as not to break my ankles or legs. Not that a little breakage will do anything, just hurt and slow me down.
The African-American youth jumps onto the Four Seasons hotel roof, rolling when he lands. While he is rolling on the asphalt, I have taken the opportunity to land on his back. My leather-encased feet on either side of his neck squeeze him, so that he cannot escape.
I apply a little pressure onto his jugular vein, threatening to pop it. Even with my immaculate strength I could easily snap his neck if I wish, but I wish to talk to him. He is a made vampire, like me, so I want to know who made him.
"Who are you?" I demand, still rendering him immobile.
"Fuck you bitch." He spits, saliva literally spraying out when he says this.
"You wish!" I say, squeezing his neck even harder. I twist my feet clockwise slightly, putting more pressure on his spine.
This vampire only seems to have been made a couple of months ago, and he is not very good at shielding his thoughts. I cannot pick up on what he is thinking properly, his thoughts are all jumbled, but I can still hear them.
Whoever made this man a vampire, must not have told him the rules of this world. Vampires can drink from humans, but they cannot kill them, if they do, they will be prosecuted. Shapeshifters and werewolves are not allowed to attack humans either, because they have to consume the entire body for food. So for that reason, shapeshifters and werewolves only eat animals. It is against the laws of the witches to kill a human, so we do not need to worry about that, but if a witch does kill a human he or she will not only be put on trial by the Inner Circle, but also on trial with the Daybreak Council.
The worm underneath me is trying to struggle away from my grip. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a figure dressed all in black, tall and muscular. I look off to my right, where the figure is standing, but I no longer see the figure. The fledgling manages to wriggle out of my grasp, while I am momentarily distracted. He runs away from me, and launches himself off the roof.
"Shit!" I growl to myself, before taking off after him. Unlike me, this newly made vampire has to take a minute to withstand the impact of the fall, a minute is all I need to catch up with him and land on his back. My boot heels pierce the skin on his back and impale him, breaking a few ribs but not kill him.
I take out my stake from the hidden spring mechanism on my arm, and plunge it deep into the fledgling's back. I watch as he shrinks and turns into a leather sack full of bones, his skin a yellow-brown colour. I pull my stake from his back and head back to the Strip, where I parked my black Ferrari Spider across the road from the MGM hotel. I climb into the driver's side and speed off to Thierry's mansion, aka, Daybreak HQ.
* * * * * *
"So he didn't tell you anything useful?" The blond haired vampire asks. He is tall, even when sitting down; he has white blond hair, night dark eyes and a hard expression on his face. This, ladies and gentlemen, is Lord Thierry Descouedres, the head of Circle Daybreak.
"No, he didn't." I reply with a sigh. "We have been over and over this Thierry."
"I know Laurana, but I just want to know what happened?" The ancient vampire asks.
"I have already told you, he got away from me when I was distracted by another figure near where I was interrogating him." I reply in an annoyed voice.
"Did you see this other figure's face?" Thierry asks, putting his elbows on his desk entwines his fingers and rests his chin on them.
"I have told you already Thierry, no I didn't." I reply, sighing again. I look around Thierry's massive, spacious office, which is at the minute, literally jam packed with mountains of paper work.
"Alright. You are dismissed." The elder vampire says, waving his hand dismissively at me. I get up and leave the room, I go downstairs, through the grand foyer and down a hall, where I open a set of doors and walk into the room. This room is the Training Room, there are several punch bags hanging from the ceiling. Fighting sticks, swords, knives and even guns hang from the walls. There is also a vending machine in the corner of the room, serving drinks of all verities: water, coke, diet coke, vanilla coke, fanta (in different flavours), juice etc, etc.
I take off my long leather duster and walk over to one of the punch bags, and I start to hit the thing repeatedly, getting out my frustration.
"Feel better?" A lazy voice behind me asks. I spin around and deliver a roundhouse kick to Ash Redfern's jaw. The younger Lamia vampire falls on his back, his long legs sprawled. His hand is clutched to the side of his face.
"What the hell was that for?" The blond vampire demands.
"Sorry Ash. You shouldn't sneak up on an Elder like that, it's not healthy." I reply, helping the youngster up. Standing up, Ash is only about three inches taller than me. I am 6ft 1in, tall for a female; my father was around Ash's height, around 6ft 4in.
"I'll remember that." The blond mumbles.
"What are you doing here anyways?" I ask, turning back to give the punch bag a few more kicks and punches.
"This is the training room. I'm allowed in here too you know." Ash replies, picking up a fighting stick and checks its weight.
"I know that." I reply, giving the punch bag one more roundhouse kick, before going over to the vending machine to get a bottle of water. I unscrew the lid, and take huge gulps of ice cold water. I may be a vampire, but that doesn't mean that I can't eat or drink normal food and water.
"Wanna have a duel?" Ash asks, eyeing me up and down, but not in a seductive way.
"Ash? You know that I'll kick your ass. I always do." I reply sweetly, raising my eyebrows at him.
"Yeah well, maybe this time I'll be the one to kick your ass." He answers.
"You're going down Redfern." I reply, going over to the rack and picking up a snake wood fighting stick.
"No. You're going down, Blackrose." Ash says sweetly, artistically moving his stick, making it whistle slightly.
"We'll see, we'll see." Is my only reply. Ash has a Japanese oak fighting stick in his hands. Good choice. Heavy, well seasoned, resilient. The fire-hardened end was very pointy.
He won't try to use that first though. First he will go for disarming me. The simplest way he will do this is to break the wrist of my dominant hand. After that he'll go for crucial points and nerve centres. He doesn't play around at this. I have seen Ash fight, and boy does he fight! But so far he has failed in trying to beat me. I have had a few thousand years of practice with fighting sticks. In fact, I practice fighting with a lot of weapons, but my most dangerous weapon is my body.
I watch Ash very carefully, and a minute change in his posture alerts me, and we are both moving, circling around each other like vultures. He swings his stick up and down in a perfect arc, aiming for my right wrist. Neither of my hands are the dominant; they are both as skilled as the other.
I block easily with my own stick and feel the shock as wood clashes with wood. I instantly change my grip and try for a trap, but he whips his stick out of the way and is facing me again as if he'd never moved in the first place.
He smiles at me. Hmm, younger Master Redfern has gotten better since the last time I beat him. I lunge towards him in a lightning fast move, and sweep his legs from underneath him. He falls backwards and lands painfully on his ass, growling, he flips onto his feet again, and tries to do the same thing to me. Only I jump over his stick, and do a back flip out of the way, the toes of my thigh boots catching him square in the jaw, knocking him to the floor again.
Ash gets up and runs at me, using the pointed tip of his stick, but I spin out of the way, and grab him by the back of his shirt.
"You're not charging aggressively enough. You need to come at me as if you mean to kill me." I say in his ear. He just growls back, and pulls out of my grip. He tries again to knock my fighting stick from my hand, but after a few more hits and swings, Ash ends up in a heap on the floor. He is panting hard and fast, his heart is pounding in his chest, I can hear it, as well as hear the blood pumping through his veins.
I walk over towards him, and put one foot on his chest, keeping him down. I place the pointed tip of my snake wood stick in the hollow of his throat.
"Yield?" I ask, putting a little more pressure onto the end of the stick.
"Never." Ash spits back. I apply a little more pressure, and blood seeps from a small cut at the base of his throat.
"Yield?" I ask again, putting more pressure on his chest. If I press just a little harder, Ash's ribs will break. He opens his mouth and yells in pain.
"I yield!" Ash yells, after one of his ribs crack. It is not broken exactly, just a small fracture. I release him and offer him my hand, which he takes and allows me to pull him up. When I first met Ash three years ago, he was stubborn and childish, but now he's matured quite a bit. Probably due to the fact that he has a wife and two year old son called Oren.
I have often envied the Lamia, because they can have children, where as I cannot. I am a made vampire, and made vampires are sterile. But Thierry got his wife, Hannah pregnant twice in the past two years, but only their daughter Nariko is alive. Their son, Braeden had to be killed because he was going to destroy the world. And Thierry wasn't the only made vampire to have children, Poppy Rasmussen had twin girls, Faylinn and Melia, and Quinn has a daughter called Sanura.
But alas, I cannot bear children, I have tried many times over the years, but it hasn't worked. Maybe it's because I haven't found my soulmate yet, but that may not be the case. As I watch Ash straightening his clothes, and wincing in pain as his fracture heals, my mind drifts back to earlier that morning when I was distracted by another figure. Who was that? Was there really someone there? Or was it just my imagination? I have a feeling that I will find out soon enough.
* * * * *
A/N: Ooh! Long prologue, I got bored so I made it long. I'll try to make the other chapters long as well. Anyways, if you liked the story, see that little button on the bottom left hand corner? Well it says "Submit Review" you press the "go" button, and just write your review, whether you liked it, or you didn't like it. Say what you liked/disliked about it, and I'll make some improvements. ;)