Midnight.
Julian glanced down a his basic metal banded wrist watch. On his ring finger, a House of Dagon signa ring revealed his new loyalties. Per the orders of Emery, if you became a member of the house, you needed to boast of it to the world in one form or another. Emery wore various necklaces. Fergall preferred a signa ring. Leverett adorned cuff links. The many others that their queen turned expressed their support in various manners - jewelry, a clothing brand created by an designer Emery delighted in turning, accessories, etcetera.
He tensed and turned.
Blade emerged from the shadows.
" Welcome to Paris," He held out his hand to the imposing african american male clad in black armor and a black trench coat.
Blade glanced down at the offered hand and shook it. In doing so, he turned the hand to search for a tattoo and discovered none.
" You familiar with Dagon's chosen queen?" Julian pulled out a pack of cigarettes ( Or fags as he called them) and opened them after packing them. " The name Emery Nowakowski mean anything to you?"
" Professional tourist," The older male leaned against the wall of the building as Julian lit the cigarette with his cheap lighter. " You realize that you're flammable?"
Julian shrugged. " It's amazing what you miss once you lose it," He slipped the lighter and cigarettes back into his coat pocket.
" What should I know about the professional tourist?" Blade pressed.
Julian puffed on the cancer stick. " She's a travel blogger and youtuber. Makes her income off of peeling back Europe's layers to the non-traveler. Drake plans on sending her out to resume that job. The true mission is to scout out enemy strength and locations. She'll need help, There's a limit to the support Fergall and I can provide as we travel with her,"
The professional vampire killer cocked his head. " Am I hearing you right? You want me to protect a vampire queen?"
" We know you have support cells that span throughout the civilized world," Julian lowered the cigarette. " You smoke?" Blade shook his head. " We want the same thing as you do, less hostile vampires in the world decimating unsuspecting human populations,"
" Spoken by a vampire,"
Julian faced Blade. " They call you Day Walker. Our queen calls you an unfortunate soul trapped between two worlds. She understands your position and is well informed of your history killing vampires. She wants to help you retire, train up new hunters," Julian stubbed out his cigarette and glanced past Blade at a passing car on the corner. " If you want that future, it is beneficial to help us,"
Blade measured Julian's words before reaching into his trench coat. He withdrew a silver stake. " I'll retire when I'm ready," Julian pulled on his leather gloves ready to accept the implement. " Maybe it's time your house reached out further than Europe. The House of Chthon is a foe commonly shared," He let it drop into Julian's open palm.
The Brit failed to comprehend the significance of the stake. " You may want to explain why I need this," He demanded.
" That's the contract should your queen choose to accept it," Blade answered him. " End Chthon, and we'll discuss further terms,"
Julian placed the stake in his coat pocket. He walked back toward the one protected vampire club for a drink and 'bite'. One perk of being a member of House of Dagon is the constant flow of bodies. Drake claimed the bodies belonged to criminals and homeless and drug addicts. Julian knew otherwise because his main responsibility to procure the bodies. He attempted to pull from the criminal underworld, and when the contacts in the authorities said they had to let loose known killers and drug dealers because of technicalities and lack of evidence, he scooped up those people too. The problem with that stemmed from 'disappearances' being reported in the paper and the center of at least two conspiracy theories on the internet. He partnered with the only option that could support the house without becoming a major target.
The blood farm resided under their main club. Supported by investments in stocks and other less 'known' options for a respectable profit, the club operated like any normal club with the exception of supporting and serving vampire clientele instead of humans. Julian's positions as head of operations at the club demanded he fill the vacancies in the farm's body bags or else a shortage of blood may force their new members to hunt in dangerous tides of political war. He used the back entrance to enter the club and walked through the darkened corridors, weaving through a large open room filled with scattered tables and booths, walking up the steps that lead to the office. A green key unlocked the office door.
As the door swung open, Draken entered Julian's view. His superior lounged on the white sofa. " The queen wishes to retire my rival. My rival refuses. And now you're going to report back to her that he refused," Julian reached into his pocket and exposed the silver stake. " Ah. This will be useful in thrusting into our enemies hearts," He removed it from Julian's still hand.
A moment's debate lead to Julian sitting behind the desk. " I was following orders,"
" Yes, you were, and you will lead her to believe that I am ignorant of this attempted dark alley deal," Drake polished the stake surface and tried to find his reflection in it. " I want my beloved humanely tainted queen to flex her will. It is most amusing and interesting after untold centuries of rest,"
Silence filled the void, Julian waiting to be killed or permitted to send the email.
The silver stake dropped into his pen holder. Drake picked up Julian's new business card, a rectangular crimson red background and pleasantly contrasting golden lettering in bold font. " Send it."
Both men refused to acknowledge each other as Julian logged into the vampire network. Drake took note of the other decoration choices. The british staple, teapot and cup in the corner on a simple metal and glass stand. Even the color scheme, a metallic gray on the walls, the white sofa, and metal and glass furniture blended into a neutral theme best suited for a small business. The red and gold were a rebellion then?
Anxiety picked at Julian, expecting to be staked on the spot. Drake continued to linger in the office, without any outward purpose. " It is sent," Julian informed him gravely.
" Keep me informed if Blade accepts her offer," Drake tucked the business card back into the metal holder.
A half hour passed before Julian let a breath out and he muttered a prayer. An hour after leaving Julian at his new 'business', Drake returned to the Dagon Tower to find his queen pacing their bedroom in irritation, head bent in concentration. He removed his shirt and tossed it toward the bathroom. She held up a hand toward him. " Not tonight. Not now,"
" What's wrong, my lovely flower?" He sidled up next to her and wrapped his arm around her waist. " Who has upset you?" He purred in her ear.
She stiffened and plucked one arm off her hip. " I am not turning Emma or Mira. They're nice, loyal people who should live mortal lives. Besides, just a moment ago there were three people standing in that kitchen watching me blog about Paris. Dead people clothed in ancient fashion," Drake pulled her to him and held her still. " Damnit, Drake, I'm not in the mood to be romanced!"
His fangs plunged into her neck before he licked at the leaking blood. " It's a natural part of the change,"
" Fuck the change. I'm tired of hearing voices, and visions that slide between insane and historically hypnotic. I'm tired of having bones broken, being bled dry, and killing people. Just fuck it,"
He stopped drinking the sweet red nectar. For the briefest of seconds his eyes cast down and shame touched his soul. Her innocence, the latest victim in his bid for world domination, clung to life support via offers to Blade and structuring his house as humanely as possible. He admired her efforts even if they'd ultimately fail. She peered straight forward mournfully, likely seeing more people connected only by blood of progenitors faithfully passed down.
" What was it like?" She whispered, a trembling child in comparison to the stupidly brash young man he'd been in his distant distant past. Granted his idea of survival differed from hers given the age they'd originally grown up in. " When you experienced the madness? Not just the hunger and vampiric madness, but the people. Those who existed in societies and empires lost, when precious knowledge is just lost because of greedy, religious zealots,"
" My creator was a man who turned from god," He mumbled.
" Which one?"
No hint of bitterness or mockery. He kissed her healing neck and relaxed in her youth. " It no longer matters," Releasing her, he laid on their bed and watched her stare at nothing. Progenitors are rare, and one progenitor once said that it is fated when the death of the last is near they will discover another to continue the legacy. Exactly what did that mean? He doubted Emery could kill him, putting his worth on Blade instead. How soon is soon? Tomorrow? A decade? Century?
Her eyes wandered toward him before she huffed and retreated to the shower to dwell on her visions and ghosts.
No, he held no grudge against her for trying to reshape monsters for the better. Her goals, misguided as they are, represented the person she is. As a man accustomed to leading, he willingly released the reins for a vacation from responsibility. Who knows? She may pleasantly surprise him.
Familiar warmth crawled up next to him, strawberry scented hair pervading his resting senses. She placed her head on his chest and closed her eyes. Drake draped his arm around her, obliging her intimate needs. He found himself in the middle of a burning library of Alexandria untouched by the flames. Emery attempted to read the scrolls of wisdom except every scroll she unrolled blanked out its precious contents. She let out a growl in frustration and sat down in the middle of a burning bench in personal frustration. A young woman cloaked in desert garb joined her, the two women sitting in silence. Drake lingered back to give them the privacy and moved outward to gaze upon an ancient city celebrated across the learned world.
He almost forgot how the visions provided their people with an escape from reality. Progenitors never died. Their souls simply entered the sacred 'afterlife' to aid future progenitors. That's not to say old grudges died or were forgiven between progenitors. In fact Drake and Solomon still argued about the full truth of Solomon's story as it is told in the bible.
The woman next to Emery is the famous Nebet, Egypt's first female vizier. As the two ladies engaged in conversation about the city of Alexandria, Emery listened to every word with spellbound fascination.
If Nebet guided Emery well, Drake need not worry about her leadership at all.
The following night Drake consciently welcomed Emery to his reality.
A battlefield turned red with the lifeforce of hundreds upon hundreds dead, slain by enemy or the monster that stood among the dead like a proud tyrant. Emery, wearing only a basic tunic, leggings, and uncomfortable boots, stood yards away from Dagon. Wind whistled across the eery void of life.
" Dagon," She called out.
The wind whipped her hair across her face. She brushed it out of her eyes in agitation. His demonic form held its back to her.
" Drake," She called out again.
Calling him 'Honey' or 'Mon Cher' simply is forbidden. He fit neither pet name and likely kill her for making him soft.
She stalked toward him, sliding around bodies half expecting at least one person to be half dead for the purpose of a jumpscare. He turned to her, holding out his hand. She knew if she withheld it, he'd make her regret it. Finally she stood at his side, her hand rested in his. His eyes locked on her instead of the dead bodies and desert beyond the bloodbath.
" Do you recall that I informed you my queens were unable to bear children?" He asked in the most peaceful tone she ever heard him exercise.
Her brow quirked. " Vaguely," Admittedly lately with the building of a legion and doing battle with immortals, she didn't care about minor remarks uttered in insignificant past point in time.
" I lied,"
She leaned against him.
Drake stroked her cheek and pressed his mouth against hers. The split jaw and extra teeth touched her lips. Before she could run, the barbed tongue touched her cheek in warning. " Do you know where you are now?" His deep voice thrummed with beastial influence.
Hell? The afterlife? A coma? Some alternate reality? Emery never quite figured out what this place is, and she already ruled out several possibilities.
" I don't," She scanned the bodies layering the ground praying that none of them leapt up ready to engage them in battle. She moved closer to Drake instinctively.
The demonic form faced her fully now, his right foot crushing the skull of a fallen foe. Emery heard the skull crack under Dagon's full weight of bone and muscle mass. " You are in my world, where we are god's." His clawed fingers left bloody marks on her arms as he appreciated her form.
Her blank expression matched her expectations. His intimidation failed to explain how this is relevant to her.
" It is where I produced the first purebloods with my first queen. She bore me thirteen children, all who are now dead, their bloodlines extinct." Her mind tried to fathom why this meant anything. Perhaps he desired more pure blooded children.
His split jawed mouth smashed against hers. She fought to move away, overpowered by millenia of experience and strength. She blinked to reality, briefly glimpsing the form of Dagon rising above her with lustful intentions. Blinking into the progenitor vision blood covered her shoulder and neck, Emery loathed her body's betrayal. It isn't that she refused sex with Drake - she saw no reason to refuse it. She just wanted him to have sex like a normal man, but that'd be asking too much from him.
Pain and exhaustion no longer plagued her. His arms supported the majority of her weight, and when he withdrew his fangs, Emery swayed. He tilted her chin up with one finger. " You are changing. Evolution is taking place. Do you not sense it?"
She gripped at his arms, fingers finding little hold.
" A being evolved from a fortunate chain of genetics, and your blood sings with life," He whispered against her lips, " You are becoming like me. A progenitor, I wonder if your brother shares the same gift,"
The battlefield faded away into bloody sheets, her body too weak to fight back. His form shifted back to human as he held her in his arms.
" Progenitor, monster...survivor," He whispered with emphatic emotional anger.
Her eyes glossed over and fresh blood introduced via wrist to her starving veins. She drowned in its drunken euphoric memory heavy richness, her own memories blurred as the past hinted at her mind without breaking the veil of silence and secrecy.
His smooth hand guided her head back to the pillow. " When you wake, we will feed again. It is the only way to break down the evolutionary barriers to your true potential," A stunned Emery lay in solemn peace for a day before waking in the initiation chamber. Drake chained her to the altar. On the other end of the altar a blindfolded man begged for his life.