Bloody Delights
Vampin Book Series #6
By Jamie Ott
Copyright
2012 Jamie Ott. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used
without written permission.
ISBN-13: 978-1467987749
ISBN-10: 1467987749
For all inquiries, please contact ladysonoma@americamail.com.
No Trail
Chapter 1
Her shoes made squashing sounds with every step.
The legs of her leather pants had come apart, at the seams, on both sides. Every few miles, she’d reach down, pull them up, and check for leeches.
Leather was good for fighting and protecting the skin against abrasions, but it was terrible in the mountain’s moist atmosphere.
A silvery line across the sky made the heavy mist, through which she walked, bright. In most places, this was a good thing, but, in the mountains of Transylvania, the fog was so thick that brightening it made it harder for her to see the path ahead.
The ground was so soaked with dew that it sucked at her rubber heels with every step, pulling at their threads. It wouldn’t be long before they split open, just like her pants.
Starr stopped and checked her GPS, but her phone, which wasn’t satellite, was still not working. She hoped she was still headed east because she was getting weary.
The fables liked to say that her kind had inexhaustible strength, but it wasn’t so. After a day of trudging the off beaten path of the rocky Carpathian Mountains, and a night slept in a tree – the only dry place she could find to rest in -, her back hurt and her limbs felt like gummy worms.
In front of her, lay a dewy marsh and, though it occurred to her that she could be making a big mistake, she set one foot in while keeping her other on the sturdier ground.
After a short jig to test her weight on the mud, she brought her other foot over, but, just as she set it down, she sank all the way up to her knees.
Expletives echoed around her for miles.
She never thought she’d feel frustrated ever again, as her kind lost their ability to feel complex emotions after being turned, but, at that moment, she felt like she could have cried.
What she would have given for a hot cup of coffee, a goat brain and egg scramble with a fresh sliced snake heart garnish, and a side of bloodied toast.
She tried to lift her right leg but it was no good; as soon as she added extra weight to her left leg, she sank down another half foot.
Reaching behind her, she felt the sturdy ground. Slowly, she heaved her body upward and back until she was sitting on the bank of the marsh.
As she sat a moment, something warm and hot ran down her face.
“Guess I’m not as tough as people think,” she said aloud.
Over and over again, she went back to considering the events of the night before last, when she left Madam Balaji and her companions at the Castel de Negru. Kind though they were to Starr, she couldn’t associate with them because of what they did at the party.
Images she wished she could forget replayed themselves in her mind: naked men and women running through the labyrinth; vampires chasing them, terrorizing them, and then feeding on them.
Yes, Starr was one to enjoy a hunt, now and again. True, their kind lived on fear, but there had to be limits, morals. Starr may have made some mistakes in the past, but she’d never ever preyed on an innocent man or woman.
And what about the German albino, Kris? Why did he fly all the way from Boston to Romania simply to give her the pin that got her access to the labyrinth? Why didn’t he just tell her what they were up to?
Then there was Lucenzo, another old vampire from Boston; she knew he’d set her up from the beginning. After all, it was he who slipped her the beloved ruby studded sickles, with which she beheaded an entire gang of Gypsy vampires, just nights before, and what was now resting in the vinyl hooks she’d sewn into her jacket. Lastly, somehow, he’d found out that Starr had come to Romania, and he’d had his brother keep an eye on her while she was there.
Oh well, she thought, she didn’t have time to brood about it now. For now, it was more important that she find The Council.
The Council was an organization headed by, mostly, lawful vampires. By lawful, it is meant that they enforced others, like themselves, to oblige human law, and when they didn’t, The Council made sure they remained anonymous. If vampires showed any signs of being reckless, they did so at the risk of being exterminated by Council members.
Unfortunately, the head of the so-called Council, Louisa Credenza, claimed that she would indenture Starr, whether she wanted it or not, and it was for that reason she was there, in Transylvania, Romania: to find out what The Council’s and Credenza’s plans, for Starr, were.
Unfortunately, her plans to learn more about them didn’t go so well. When she arrived in Sibiu, Transylvania County, she learned that some sort of war was going on between groups of vampires who were more civilized and groups who, like the Castel de Negru, still liked to practice savagery.
Through the thick fog, she picked up the scent of a squirrel. She continued over a slick wedge and stepped over a log.
There it was, burying a nut in the ground, next to a tree, barely standing out against the white of the fog; its beady eyes, black and piercing.
Starr was struck by its beauty: she reached out and snatched it up with lizard-like reflexes.
It was a Brevardian squirrel, and they were popular in that area. With snowy-white fur and a small narrow head, some thought they were albinos, but they weren’t.
At first, she intended to drain it until its little arteries imploded, but as she observed its black eyes, little pink tongue and white teeth, she lost her desire.
Gently, Starr put the squirrel down and watched it return to padding dirt over the nut.
A shallow yet wide stream ran before her. Someone half buried a round log across it. She stepped onto it and kept her balance until about halfway, when she slipped off into the ice cold water.
Not that Starr was affected by cold anymore, but she still felt it. Being wet for an extended period was just as unpleasant, dead, as it was when alive.
“AAAAAaaaaggghhhh!!!” she screamed angrily.
As she climbed up the other side of the stream, her right shoe became severely waterlogged, making it unable to hold its leather sole any longer, and it split in half.
She pulled both boots off and threw them with a temper.
Just after the sun had fully risen, she heard it: the voices that Madam Balaji, of the Castel de Negru, told her to follow.
She didn’t have far to walk, for over the next steep incline, she found her journey was, finally, at an end. Tension, all over her body, relinquished its grip as she breathed relief.
Nestled, down, in a bowl-shaped valley, stood an enormous grey stone castle; it was encircled by a twenty foot stone wall, and completely surrounded by the mountains.
Unlike the tight, cramped little castles she’d seen on the Dracula tours, this was as magnificent as a palace, as tall as the Big Bear Mountain and wide as a theme park.
Its structure was much more reminiscent of the Middle Ages, with its simplified square structure and few windows. It had none of the cylindrical towers and conical roofs that the other renaissance castles of Transylvania had.
There was an enormous plain, square structure that made up the center of the castle, and on top of it was a landing strip. Surrounding the center structure was four smaller square top roofs, and on each was a helipad.
From several places in the castle, she smelled food and coffee being prepared. As she remembered on one of her castle tours, sometimes these larger ones housed entire cities, so they often had multiple kitchens.
Using her ability to see happenings in other places, a sort of extra sensory perception she’d gained after being turned, she scanned various parts of the castle.
In one enormous room, she saw towering book cases and leather couches. In others, she saw people working in offices, and entering data into computers. Another room, people were steam cleaning curtains.
Somewhere on the side, opposite to where she stood, was a lot of strong discussion. She turned her focus to the room and, in her mind, saw a dozen people in suits sitting at a round, thick, wood table.
A man with a rich head of chocolate brown hair appeared to be heading the discussion: his laptop was opened, and its desktop was projected on the wall behind him.
The others listened, intently, to him speaking.
Then he suddenly stopped talking.
Bulgari, one of the residents of the Castel de Negru, warned her that she needed to learn how to close her mind, if she wanted to glean thoughts while remaining undetected.
Unfortunately, in her weary state, she forgot to cloak herself, but they didn’t seem angry that she was spying on them. On the contrary, Starr got the feeling that they were expecting her.
A second later, she knew her feeling was right, for the man who seemed to be the leader of the meeting said, “Starr is here.”
The other vampires murmured to each other.
Come down, Starr.
The man spoke to her telepathically.
We have been expecting you.
Relieved to be accepted without question, she walked, quickly, down the grassy hill.
Perhaps they’d let her take a shower? Give her some good, strong coffee?
She ran up the two dozen steps to the large grey double doors. Right as she was about to press the little black ringer, it opened.
There, to greet her, were a dozen people, mostly men. They all appeared to be in their twenties and thirties, yet gave off an aura of being much, much older.
With heads held high and dignified, they, silently, observed her inglorious state.
“Come in,” said the man, who headed the meeting, sympathetically, as he looked her up and down.
The entrance hall was the size of an amphitheater. Shined up suits of armor and wrought iron candles lined both sides of the wall. Above them hung old Persian rugs, plain cloths of royal purple and red, and faded canvas’ that looked to have been written on centuries ago. In the middle of the hall, hung an enormous wood and wrought iron chandelier; where once there were candles, now held candelabra bulbs.
“My name is Blakely,” the man bowed. “This is …” and he began a long introduction, but, with the state that she was in, she forgot the names as quickly as he said them.
“We have a room,” he continued, “and I’m sure you probably would like a chance to freshen up?”
“Yes,” said Starr somberly. “Thank you.”
The man led her further into the entrance hall where, looking up, she saw multiple landings above her. Past more suits of armor; past cases of battleaxes, spiked flails, swords and shields, they went until they reached a staircase, on the left side of the hall, wide enough to accommodate several elephants standing side-by-side.
The steps creaked a little, here and there, as they climbed its thick, red carpeted planks.
When they approached the first landing, they went right, to the other end, and climbed another staircase.
Starr followed the man right, again and again. Looking upward, she counted ten landings.
“How many people live here?”
“There are fifty of us who are here, year round, taking care of Council business, or taking care of the castle, but we have many visitors. At one time, we had over 1,000 guests staying here: the millennial ball, 1,000 A.D.”
“Are you the oldest vampire alive?”
“No, there are quite a few others who are older.”
They reached the fourth landing and went right, past the set of stairs, to the end of the hall.
From his pocket, he pulled out a little card and entered a code into a little numeric pad embedded below the door handle.
“Here is your number, memorize it,” he handed her the card.
Although the halls of the castle were sterile, like a monastery, the room reminded her of an Oxford fashion style, with a plain yet luxurious décor.
In the middle of the room was a set of chocolate brown leather couches with dark green pillows, facing an electric fireplace and flat screen television that hung on the wall.
To the right, was a large wine colored canopied bed.
“We were wondering whatever happened to you.”
Starr walked over and set her bag on the long, oak coffee table. Then she walked to the opposite end of the room and found, to her left, a large stone bathroom.
“What happened?” she asked. “Did the guy, you had follow me, not do such a good job?”
She spotted the unknown man tailing her the moment she boarded the plane to Sibiu.
“You know, Starr, Credenza sent the man you attacked to help you, in case you got into trouble.”
She never had much patience for manipulation, which, clearly, the unknown man was trying to do, so she tried to crush his throat on the bar, right next to her delicious pesce soup.
When Starr was about to argue with Blakely, he cut her off with, “You may have noticed that things are not pleasant, here, in the vampire world. You are lucky, in that, you’ve only run into Madam Balaji and her lovers, but you could have met much worse.”
“Well, I can take care of myself.”
“Oh, really? By killing an entire gang of Gypsies? You think you won’t pay for that?”
“They attacked me!” Starr said edgily. “If you come after me, for that, I will fight you to the death.”
“I’m not saying that we hold what you did against you, but I’m saying that others will. You do not seem to understand how little law there is, when dealing in our world. Up until now, you’ve been safe and secure, but, here, piss off the wrong vampires, and you will make enemies for life. Considering how long your life will be, you might want to be careful, even when defending yourself, for do you really want to spend eternity looking over your shoulders? Wondering who’s plotting their revenge against you?”
When Starr did not reply, he continued, “However, battles are, sometimes, unavoidable, unless you go into real seclusion. Otherwise, you need friends, family, and associates: people to back you up, if you will.”
“So, what? If I ally myself with you, you’ll protect me from being avenged upon? Tuh!” she spat. “I’m not buying it. What do you really want from me?”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” he said, looking her straight in the eyes.
“Surely, you know Credenza said she’d be back for me, and that I couldn’t refuse her.”
“Credenza is on a journey, and I’m not sure when she’ll be back. Whatever business she has with you, I am unaware of it. I am merely offering you a place with The Council, which you don’t have to accept.”
“I appreciate it, but no. I just want to be left alone, and that is why I’ve come. Leave me and my friends out of your troubles. We have enough of our own.”
But something about the way he looked away, and nodded his head, told her he wasn’t going to do as she asked, just yet.
“Well,” clapping his hands together, “I must be getting back to work. You should have everything you need, here, but, if not, dial zero on your phone, the way you would at a hotel.
With the exception of special holidays and events, we serve buffets in the main dining hall. Breakfast is served at 9:30 every day, lunch at 1 p.m., and dinner at 7 p.m.
There is much to do, in this castle,” he said matter-of-factly, as he pulled up a piece of paper that lay on the middle of the coffee table.
“This is a map of the castle and the grounds,” he held the paper in front of him. “Along the side here,” he pointed with his finger, “you’ll see all the house amenities: pool, gym, bowling alley, movie theatre,” he set the paper back down.
“I will leave you to freshen up, but we should talk, later, this afternoon, about 3 p.m. in my office, which you’ll find on the map, too. We can, then, discuss the arrangements of your departure.”
He turned and left.
She tore off her clothes and put them in the trash. After a hot shower and a change, she felt much better.
Starr sat on the couch wondering what she should do until 3 p.m.
On the north end, there was mostly recreational: pool, gym, spa, and green house, animals. On the south were offices and libraries, meeting rooms. The bottom floors were ball rooms and dining halls, and the main kitchen and dungeon. In each corner of the castle, there was one immediate kitchen for guests’ personal use.
She decided to follow her map to the kitchen closest to her. It was a little stone room with a table. Along the walls were a dozen cabinets, or so, with names taped to the insides. The refrigerator was stocked with blood in glass bottles, sealed off with metal tops.
Starr walked up the remaining flights of stairs to the very top landing.
Despite the sky light, it was especially dark, as most of the light flowed straight down, and then branched out around the seventh floor.
At both ends of the top landing were sets of stairs in tight hallways; they both led to the roof. She took one up and found that she was on the landing strip.
As she stood and looked around at the surrounding peaks, she noticed that there was, literally, no road way, in or out, of the castle.
On the north side of the wall, there were tennis courts; on the south were horse stables. In between the stables and tennis courts was a large patio with a stone dais big enough to roast several bulls at once.
Further out was a yard, across which ran dozens of chickens. Linens and curtains hung on lines that stretched out for a quarter mile. Even further out, horses, pigs, sheep, goats, and cows grazed together.
A few hours later, Starr followed the little map to the south end.
On that side of the castle, everything was much more serious looking. Law books lined the walls of the hallways, and people ran about, appearing to be preoccupied with whatever they were working on.
When she finally made it to Blakely’s office, he said, “Hello, Starr, please sit,” he gestured to a seat as he half stood up, and then sat back down.
His office was large and lined with more books. On the wall was a large flat screen with a desktop on it.
“Well, to start, I have a question: How did you find us?”
She looked at him, a moment, wondering how much she should tell him.
“Madam Balaji told you?” he asked sounding surprised.
Starr really hated mind readers; if only she could master closing her mind.
What was worse was she couldn’t read others minds without focusing, so she couldn’t just hear thoughts like they could.
She tried to focus on a blank slate as she spoke; the way Bulgari told her.
“Would you like to go home tomorrow?” he asked.
“Yes, please,” she said with relief.
“Great! Our company plane is flying out at 7 a.m. You will leave with our Council Fleet, our military so to speak. After our pilot drops them off in the Transcarpathian Mountains, right outside Oblast, Ukraine, he will take you to New York, as he’s got to pick up some of our own. Okay, that is all.”
About 7 p.m., she made her way down to the dining hall. An enormous fire was lit, and there was a large buffet. People went in and out at different times; some ate together while others ate alone. Starr grabbed a plate and helped herself to a strange dish that resembled goulash, in her opinion.
Alone, she sat at the emptiest end of the long table.
“Hi, Starr,” said a towering man with phoenix shaped eyes, as he took the seat across from her. “I’m Chanler; I saw you come in, earlier.”
If she were alive, her breath would have stilled at the sight of him. He had soft smooth skin, cheekbones typical of a diamond shaped face, and a soft rounded chin.
“Hello.”
“Ever since I heard you’d come to Romania, I’ve wanted to meet you.”
“Why?” She froze in the middle of a bite, and looked at him.
“I heard you took out Levi, Peter, and Mike.”
“Who?”
“The vampires Levi hired to help capture you.”
A brief image of two heads rolling across the floor replayed itself in her mind; it was the night Levi tried to have her killed.
She continued eating without response.
“Many of us were wondering who would have the nerve to take on such a man, and win. He was no ordinary vampire, and you became a source of concern for us.”
Like magma through an ocean fissure, anger seeped through her pores.
Just barely keeping her voice from quivering, she looked him straight in the eyes and asked, “Why can’t you guys just leave me alone?”
“We keep tabs on all vampires, and especially strong or crazy ones.”
“You think I’m crazy?”
“No, I don’t, Starr. You may have your struggles, but what goes on, in you, is deeper than most people at the point of death.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You remember when you wondered if dying at an emotional apex could last a lifetime? Well, you were right, in a lot of ways. When our kind dies, many of us lose a portion of our humanity, there, on the spot; essentially, our ability to feel complex emotions. From then on, we lose a bit more of our humanity every day. This is a serious detriment because, without the ability to feel, we are without morality; without morality, we are nothing but aimless, mindless zombies. You think you are more animal than others, but you are not; you are always remembering what it was like to feel love, and to love; that puts you above most vampires.”
Starr smirked and shook her head. Shane would never have agreed, and would have told him that she was a monster.
“Shane is always hearing our inner thoughts, and is always persuaded by the feelings of others; she hasn’t learned to master her gifts. If she could separate the thoughts and feelings of all those around her, she might find that she, herself, feels differently then what she projected onto you.”
“Wait! Are you saying that she came after me because everyone else was afraid of me? Making her even more afraid of me?”
“The curse of an empath is never knowing his or her own true feelings.”
This didn’t make Starr happy. If he was telling the truth, then everyone at the clinic was afraid of her, and wanted her gone.
They ate in silence.
Then he stood up, empty plate in hand, and said, “Well, I hear you are going home tomorrow. We will see each other then. Goodnight,” he said with a slight bow, and walked off.
Homeward Bound
Chapter 2
The next morning, she gathered her things and went to the top landing, and then climbed the side stairwell up to the landing strip.
Waiting to climb aboard a small jet airplane that was being fueled was a dozen people wearing black wing suits. Several of them nodded their heads to Starr; one of them was Chanler.