To the Blood

She surveyed her Family as she spoke; words like satin from her dead lips. “If anyone has any objections to this cycle’s governing body… Now would be the time to state them.” She gave the requisite few moments of silence then continued. “Good, now I think-“ She blinked. A hand was raised in the Second Row. She barely hid her annoyance as she strode briskly to the young male. “Yes?”

He glared at her in utter defiance.  “You are old. When are we gonna get some new blood?” He looked around himself as he spoke the last words, vying for support. A few hands raised behind him; shouts maintained his inquiry with questions of their own, garbled and lost in the Many.

She gritted her teeth at the impudence that this one dared show her, even as she turned on the heal of her intricately laced Victorian boot, and walked calmly back to the platform. Flanked by both of the Family’s Alpha-males now, she turned once again to the young one.

“Have I not- Nay, have we not,” She gestured to the men on either side of her, “Led you for nearly a century now? “ She appealed to the Family as a whole. “Have we not held peace for all these years? “ She focused her anger to the young one. “You were not here when we broke away…”

He spat back, “Always the same! You adults! You are complacent in your ways!”

She studied him carefully, trying to decide weather or not he and his silly friends might pose any sort of threat. He looked to have been fifteen when he was turned; baggy pants, a striped sweater and messy hair contained partially by a beanie cap. He must not have been turned long, she still saw humans who dressed this way. She scoffed. So arrogant, so hotheaded and young. Had she been as this when she was turned? She fancied herself able to connect with the young ones, for she was hardly into the prime of her own human life when she had been brought to this side. A strand or two of silver in her luscious black hair and eyes lined with barely perceptible crows-feet were all that marred her young appearance. What made her seem old, then? She frowned, for she had always valued her beauty. She was dressed as a lawyer might; business length pencil skirt and a button up jacket. She was decidedly un-lawyer in the dark red color of the suit, and her black knee-high old-fashioned boots, however.

She rested a long-nailed hand on a finely tailored hip, her eyes still boring into him. “Would you like to have one of your… age group added as a board member then?”

He looked as if he was about to protest, but he calmed in surprise. “Yeah. Ok.”

She smiled, and raised a hand to the air. “It has been done”

They sat hip-to-hip in a corner booth at some trendy French club. One turned to her. “You know, I’m still suspicious…” He drummed his fingers against the hand-blown glass that held his Drink.

She turned her head in surprise, her own glass untouched. “What? The boy?”

Her Second nodded as he spoke again.  “I saw it in his eyes… a sort of rage. He will defy you yet again.”

The Third shook his head, appearing from behind a Parisian newspaper. “We do run a democracy here…He is allowed to voice his mind.” He disappeared once more.

“Mayhap he is right, and I have become complacent.” She laughed darkly. “I will not let him defile the peace, though.” She inserted a finger into her glass now, a scowl appearing on her face. “They never serve it hot enough here.”  She placed her finger into her mouth, sucking it clean.

“That is not what I meant.” The Second took a swig of his Drink. “He is not content to merely speak his mind. He wants a New Order.”

The Third lowered the newspaper quickly, opening his mouth as if to speak. He was, however, interrupted.

A hostess of the club burst through the dangling beads that served to separate this booth from the boisterous dance floor.  “Veneze rapidement, quelque chose est terriblement erronée!”  All three occupants of the booth looked perturbed, if not alarmed, as they rose.

Outside it was chaos. It was obvious that two families were at battle here, yet she had not been aware there were any other families in the area. She thanked the fates that the square outside was devoid of human onlookers. As she strode forward, her side parting to let her pass, she gave a gasp of angry astonishment. There, at the head of the adversary’s line was the boy. He stood stock-still, as others ripped and died around him; he was waiting for her.

“Who have you sold yourself to?” She said with genuine sadness as she took in the miscreants around him, interspersed with young ones from her own Family.

He gave no answer; simply lunging at her. Before she even raised her arms, her Second had emerged between her and this unexpected threat.

Just as quickly, he had fallen; blackness seeping from a hole where his heart should have been. I was wrong… The words imprinted themselves onto her mind. He didn’t wish a New Order, He was not one of us all along… He closed his eyes, as he began to fade. Me pardonner, soeur…

She shook her head, not understanding, as she faced the boy alone once more. They both turned to the side as a beautiful girl bounded toward her chest for the kill. She casually lifted a hand as the girl stopped dead, a look of horror appearing on her perfect features. For a moment, nothing happened, until a bubble of blood emerged at the corner of the girl’s lip. An instant later she burst; clothing, hair, flesh flying in one direction; intestines, lungs, heart in another, splattering the boy in the face.

She laughed in the boy’s bloody face, which, for an instant had registered loss for the girl. No doubt he had fancied her. “You come at me with humans in disguise!” Her laughter doubled. “And you! You are not one of us either! I might have known…” She sobered, as the boy stood seething. “It is a powerful Glamour that you all have hidden behind, you fooled even us… I would like to meet the one who cast it, perhaps he would be a match for me…” She trailed off, her eyes moving to the dust that had once been her Second. She finally understood.

The boy took a second too long. He had smiled, a sad smile, for he could taste his dead girlfriend’s blood, but the words he would have spoken did not come. He barely registered a hand in his chest; a twisting; Pain. He fell back, his blurry gaze staring into the face of Evil; who’s hand clutched his still beating heart. Why had he let her speak? He could have killed her… He managed a last threat: “There are more of us… Your kind will parish… the Good will prevail…”

She tossed the heart to the side and it landed with a sickening splatter, and looked at the dead boy. She did not try to hide her newfound fear, or her disgust at what she had just been forced to do. She knew They had more up their proverbial sleeve then disguised humans. Wasn’t it like Them to send those first, though? Let the poor minions die. A sacrifice to aid the ‘Greater Good’. She knew They could kill her entire Family in a single night with the power that They held.

She brought her attention back to the present. Most of the humans were dead now, as was some of her Family. A flick of her hand. Time to regroup. Her Family rose as a whole, and drew back toward the club, leaving what humans still lived to die from their wounds or run. It was a somber group that she beheld. They knew what they had done. Not in the Family’s history had they had to kill a human. They brought new ones in, but never killed. She stood facing this Family, her Third at her side, as she fought to find the words.

Armageddon had arrived.