Several more weeks passed since the showdown at the Palace. Days and nights have come and gone. Everyone was on edge; tempers were hot, and patience was nonexistent. The feelings, however, were not just between the Brood and the Family. It was the general feeling in the vampirical world. The latest celebrity gossip paled in comparison to the buzz surrounding the battle. Wagers were set, predictions were made, and above all, the lingering question was going to be answered: Who was going to get Nevaeh?
It was just the way the Queen Mother wanted it. She asked for a battle and she got one. My children are becoming restless and anxious, Stephanie thought, good. Very good.
Giving Trish more time to prepare for the fight of her life, Stephanie chose Valentine's Day for the battle date. She chose St. Valentine's Day for a number a reasons but most significantly, because the holiday was her favorite. There was something romantic about lovers showing their appreciation, women wearing sexy lingerie and men spending a small fortune on gifts galore. It also meant more business for Stephanie in her dominatrix get-up.
It was also the Queen Mother's favorite holiday for another reason: The St. Valentine's Massacre. She often boasted to her servants that she was there after the bloodshed and helped "clean up" so to speak. No one knew specifically if Stephanie was telling the truth or a tall-tale but her love for Mafia flicks in combination with the way she handled personal affairs made many a vampire believe she did had some Mafia blood in her.
It was now midnight. The sky was pitch-black and the stars sparkled. There was a crisp breeze, not a biting cold, but chilly enough that a person was probably rubbing their arms and hands for warmth. Regardless of temperature, the air was perfect for battle. Other vampires soon gathered and situated themselves on roofs of other buildings. Meanwhile, Stephanie, Rock, Taker, and Hunter gathered on top of the roof of an abandoned building. They ate popcorn while their legs dangled from the edge of the roof.
"What in the hell is taking them so long?" Hunter asked as he looked around. "I'm getting anxious here."
"Patience, Hunter." Stephanie placed a hand on his thigh. "Good things come to those who wait."
"But how much longer are we going to wait for this shit?" Hunter snacked on some popcorn. "
"Where's the heiress?" Taker asked.
"She's at the Palace." Stephanie commented as she sipped a glass of wine. "She's waiting to see who's going to take her home."
"And who's going to take her home?" Rock questioned.
"That depends," Stephanie paused. "Whoever wants her bad enough."
A sudden, heavy mist traveled through the air and settled over the street. Within seconds, the mist disappeared and The Brood appeared. They were dressed all in black leather and holding various items of weaponry. Hair was wet and gelled, fangs were shown, and grips were adjusted on the swords, pipes, and baseball bats.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are." Edge called out. "You can't hide from me forever, Batista." He grinned.
However, the Family didn't respond to Edge's calling.
Several minutes passed and the Brood was getting restless. Jeff and Carlito sat on the concrete while Stacy and Lilian waited over to the sidewalks. Edge stepped forward and looked around. He used his powers to scope Dave, looking inside of buildings and other possible hiding spots. Still, Dave and the Family were nowhere to be found. "Where are you, Batista?" He whispered.
"Right behind you." Dave smiled, startling Edge.
Edge dropped his machete and slightly backed away, only to bump into other smiling members of the Family. "Scared, Edge? You look like you've seen ghosts." London smiled.
Edge catapulted himself over Dave and the Brood surrounded him. "Batista…" Edge smiled and licked his lips. "Nice for you to join us, finally."
While the Brood wore all black to coincide with their mischievousness, the Family stuck with the color that had represented them from the beginning—blood red. Long suede overcoats covered various choices of attire. Melina, Nitro, and London wore matching vests while Dave and Trish wore tank tops. All wore dark jeans and boots to complete their look.
They weren't trying to be fashionable or impress anyone. If it was up to Taker, they would've just worn old rags and torn-up clothing. Yet, Dave and Taker knew the importance of the battle. It would be spoken of for years and the last thing they wanted was someone to comment on the beating the Family gave the Brood and add 'But did you see what they wore?' at the end of the sentence.
However, fashion had to take a backseat as Dave took off his overcoat and threw it to the side. "Ready to get the beating of your life?" He quietly asked Edge.
"Ready to get beaten of an inch of yours?" Edge replied.
From the roof, the elders watched in high anticipation. "This is what I'm talking about." Rock smiled.
"Remember…" Stephanie echoed from the roof. "No one dies."
Edge turned to Stephanie and then smiled at his nemesis again. "Hear that, Batista?" Edge smirked. "You can't kill me."
Dave suddenly grabbed Edge's throat and lifted him up high in the air. "You're right, I can't." He smiled as Edge struggled to free himself. "But it doesn't mean I'm not going to fuck you up."