Shining in Crimson: Empire of Blood Book One (A Dystopian Vampire Novel) (16 page)

That was when Hank noticed Peter. He couldn't help himself.

"Hey, you can hardly tell I cut your ass in half now. You guys should have seen him," he said to the crowd of amused vampires. "He plopped right to the floor like a pile of bricks."

Peter's face twisted with anger as several of the vampires in the crowd laughed heartily and even Ishan cracked a smile. The next moment, before Hank even realized she was there, a female vampire was holding his wrist up above her head for all the vampires to see. They all went silent and watched attentively. Hank struggled against the powerful redhead with all his might to no avail. Then, she brought down his wrist in front of her face and, with a sharp stabbing burst of pressure, ripped it open with her teeth. Blood rushed out like a river of crimson. A cold sweat went all throughout Hank’s body. Then, the female yelled out in a high screeching tone and dropped him to the ground as a rush of movement blurred above him.

* * *

As soon as Rachel dropped Hank's body to the ground, signaling the beginning of the challenge, Ishan leapt forward and grabbed hold of Peter's head before he could move. He was sure Peter would have some sort of trick up his sleeve if he was confident enough to call him out like this. Grabbing him and stopping him from any chance of trapping him seemed to be the best strategy. The problem was he hadn't expected Peter would actually be one step ahead of him.

The moment his hands touched Peter's head, he felt a slick substance he didn't recognize. Then, he twitched in pain as his hands started to smoke. It had to be some kind of acid on the tips of Peter's hair. Peter took the opportunity to slam himself forward into Ishan. Shock stole over him as he realized he had lost control of the situation.

He was far too strong to be overpowered by Peter; yet, Peter was doing just that. His hands were in such agony that he could not grip with them and both of his arms were limp. Peter pinned them down to the ground as he straddled Ishan's body in the sand. Then, he
lunged
his head downward, sinking his teeth into the left side of Ishan's neck. Out of sheer reflex, Ishan grabbed at Peter's face. Peter screamed a strange screech of horror as whatever burned Ishan's hands melted through several layers of his forehead and cheek.

Ishan swung his body to the left, rolling Peter off of him as he jumped to his feet, and kicked Peter in his bent-over torso. Peter's body went flying in a spinning motion through an explosion of sand. Ishan lunged downward into a crouching motion and put his hands into the sand in order to soak up whatever chemical was burning his flesh. Then, he stood up and turned around to find Hank. The man lay silently on the ground, a stream of blood branching off into a copper muddy pool a foot from his wound. Several of the younger vampires from the crowd watched in hunger as the blood pooled in waste.

Ishan looked at his right hand to find it almost healed. He knew there wasn't time to wait for it to fully recover. So, he rushed down beside the pale body and put his right hand over Hank's wound. A luminous yellow glow spread out from inside Ishan's hand. His hand
glowed
red as if he were holding a flashlight underneath his knuckles. He could feel that familiar tingle from within his palm. But he could also hear fast movement in the sand from about a hundred yards behind him and knew he would soon have to let go of Hank's wound before he could fully heal it. He held on as long as he could and, right when he could feel the pressure within the air telling him Peter was only inches from slamming into him, he let go of Hank's now mostly healed hand, letting himself be blasted away from Hank’s side. He lifted his feet so they wouldn’t tear Hank in half as he flew away from him.

In mid-flight through the dry air, he also gripped hold of Peter's shoulders and flung himself around with more effort than it should have taken. But with enough strain, he was able to fling Peter from him and land, crouching, on his feet. Peter, however, caught his balance quickly and also landed on his feet. For the first time in several centuries, Ishan found
himself
furious. He was utterly sick of Peter's feeble rebellion and through with allowing it to go on. He felt his eyes gloss over as the familiar thin black film covered them. He let out a loud, low growl that he intended to hold back. His hands were held out, visibly ready to claw through Peter should he come any
nearer.
A look of desperate fear flashed across Peter’s face and just as quickly disappeared with obvious effort. Peter's attempt at concealment of his fear only cut the imaginary tie holding Ishan back. He threw himself forward, slashing his claws in motions faster than Peter could ever block, let alone counter. A moment later, Peter
lay
panting and bleeding in between two sand dunes.

The crowd of vampires chanted "Cryosan" in the tongue of the ancestors. It meant simply "to end." It filled Ishan's blood with a self-righteous wave of power as he pulled his right hand back, in position to slash open Peter's throat for all of the rest to drink. As Peter closed his eyes, the moment passed, Ishan relaxed his arm, and stood up to the grumpy sound of disapproval from the crowd. He held up his hand and said in the ancient tongue, "Versol" meaning "outcast."

Peter leered at Ishan. This was even worse than dying. Being outcast from the city would be a disgrace beyond any death because it meant he would die at the hands of the Empire. Imperial
law forbid
any vampire to live outside of Necropolis. But the call had been made and Peter would be foolish to disobey. He got up with
a bitterness
in his eyes and looked at Rachel, who stared back at him with a great anguish of indecision in her eyes. Then, she took a deep breath and turned away from him. Great suffering showed on his face and he held out his left wrist and ripped it open with the claws of his right hand, letting blood drip out onto the desert. This was a symbol of remorse and sorrow well known to all who watched. No one showed pity, however. Peter turned and started walking toward the southern city limits everyone knew was only several miles ahead.  He left a trail of blood in the sand as he
went,
head down in shame.

Ishan felt the effects of the battle as his body began to shake with weakness. Rachel caught him as he fell backward with exhaustion. She picked him up gracefully and carried him, parting the crowd as they came through.

"Please, let me finish what I started," he said.

"Yes," she whispered in reply as she carried him over to Hank's body. It was not quite as pale now, but he was still unconscious. The rip in his wrist no longer bled but was still in disrepair. Rachel set Ishan down as he knelt over Hank's wrist and grabbed hold of it with his right hand again. It began to glow once more as Ishan felt the last of Hank's skin regenerate. Hank coughed. He tried to pull his arm away, but Ishan continued to hold on. Then, after a few minutes, he let go of the wrist knowing it was completely healed.

He was becoming concerned. It was taking considerably more willpower to heal than it had before and he was now aware of the reason for his multiple weaknesses on this night. He knew this would be the result but he had completely forgotten when the time came to act that somewhere near half of the blood that flowed in his veins now resided in Simon. If Simon survived, he would hold an equal share of the oldest blood. It would come down to a fight. Only one could rule over the city. It would be a battle Ishan was not sure he could overcome. It had taken much more than he expected to fend off Peter. With the blood, Simon would be a much worse opponent. He would be an equal match for Ishan.

Ishan turned and looked up at Rachel. He could see the desolation in her eyes. He reached up and took hold of her hand. She looked away as her hand hung perfectly still, purposely not acknowledging Ishan's grip.

"I'm sorry, Rachel. I know what it means to lose someone so close," he whispered. She continued to look away for some time. Then, she glanced back down at him and squeezed his hand attempting to smile.

"I always knew it would happen. I blame only myself," she said.

He was about to argue, but before he could, she put a finger to his lips to quiet him. Then, she bent down and picked him up in a swift yet somehow careful motion. Ishan looked over to see Hank getting up from the ground and brushing sand from his body with a confused and disgusted look on his face. He gazed over at Ishan with a worried expression. Ishan returned the look with one of understanding. He knew now although he won the battle fairly, Peter had also won in an unexpected way by merely calling out his challenge. It would now be inevitable that Hank would no longer wish to stay in Necropolis.

The other vampires dispersed in small, random groups as Rachel carried Ishan back toward the heart of the city accompanied by Stanislov, Edgar, and Hank.

Chapter 13

A Cyclone of Bodies

A
fter a while of riding in Rachel's arms at a human's pace, Ishan could see Kato coming toward them in the distance. He judged that the lone vampire was at least several kilometers ahead and moving closer fast. The other two vampires had since gone on ahead and were now lost in the dark of night. Within several minutes, Kato arrived with a sense of urgency quivering in his tone and every muscle in his body.

"Kato, what is it?"

"They're dead, master. They're all dead except for my brother, thank Anansi," Kato said, praising a god Ishan knew to be from Kato’s native land.

"Who?"

"There were many. The only ones my brother remembered for sure were Luciano, Eduardo, and Gabriel. Most were still fledglings. They destroyed most of the lab equipment, too."

Ishan stiffened when he heard this.

"Is the data safe?" he asked.

"I don't know. Some of the others are trying to get the backup systems online to check."

"Why would they do this?"

"They want what Peter wanted, master. They want to take action against the Empire now. They attacked us in Peter's name. They follow him now," Kato said with anger.

At the mention of Peter's name, Rachel seemed to twitch in surprise.

"Rachel, can you run with me on your shoulder if I hold on?"

"Yes," she said, distracted.

"Good."

He looked at Kato. "Kato, you take Hank."

"Yes, master," Kato said, his accent becoming more and more prominent.

Hank made a face of dread as Kato picked him up. Within a second, they were all racing toward the southern entrance of the city drainage system. Ishan tried not to notice the feelings and memories that came from holding onto Rachel's body. Now was not a time to mourn for lost love.
Especially when there were more recent friendships to mourn.

* * *

Hank put all his willpower into holding the meager contents of his stomach as Kato moved like lightning. He soared through the various tunnels, swiftly changing direction with the slightest bit of effort. More than once, Hank’s hair brushed against the ceiling or some corner between tunnels. He held onto Kato tighter than he had ever held onto anything before. Within seconds of entering the tunnels, they came to a dizzying stop. It took several minutes for Hank to realize they were already
back
in the lab. Once he did, he wondered if it was truly the same place. It seemed only a shell of its former self. All around him bodies, blood, and broken glass littered every space. Rachel gently set Ishan down and he fell to the floor, his body shaking with the loss of many. Without lifting his head, he spoke loudly to Kato.

"Kato, have the ancestors been summoned?"

"No, master.
I was waiting for your word."

"Kato, you have it. Please, call for them."

Kato nodded and was gone in a blurry flash. Ishan struggled to his feet. Seeing this, Rachel rushed forward to try and help him, but he shrugged her off of him. She backed away to give him space.

"So many good friends.
All gone over nothing more than
politics
!"

The word echoed off the egg-shaped ceiling as if Ishan had just yelled it again behind Hank.

"Hank, come with me."

"Master, let me help you," Rachel said.

"No, I must speak with Hank alone," he said with absolute authority.

She nodded, disheartened with his continuing outburst. Ishan walked toward one of the doorways without bothering to see if Hank followed. Hank scampered to catch up with the angry vampire. The sound of many strange voices got his attention and he turned to see dozens of "ancestors" filling the room. As he backed toward the doorway, they began sinking their fangs in the bodies still strung out on the floor. Others licked the blood from the floor. His stomach turned as he crossed through the doorway. What was left of the metal door bent inward inside the hall as though it were a plastic toy bent by a young child at
play.
The different sounds of the strange beasts bounced off the walls as Hank tried not to notice. Ishan was a few strides ahead, walking in what Hank thought was a familiar direction. A few familiar turns later and he
was
sure of it. Then, the two arrived at Ishan's personal quarters. Once they were both inside, Ishan closed and locked the thick vault-like door. He gestured for Hank to sit and once he did, Ishan took the seat across from him.