The Bride and Her Bloodlust

I stood in the middle of the graveyard, listening intently. Augusta was beside me, her bright eyes gazing at every shadow or tree that so much as twitched.

I had four youngsters with me, the oldest ones. Two of them being Hilary and Ben. They had been insistent they come with me, begging to help find James. I wasn’t about to push them away, especially as they knew James’ scent so well after hours of playing with him.

Al had chosen four of his own youngsters and taken Vincent to the house again. Vincent had found nothing there before but hearing that Harry’s family was truly a immortal hunting clan, he was keen to double check it with his son’s strange toy. Al had been happy with the idea. He wanted to know how that family vanished so easily.

So while they focused on the family and seeing if there was any hidden passage in the house or any chance James was hidden there, August and I headed down to the graveyard, the place she was certain James’ scent stopped.

I had been standing quite still for several minutes, drowning out the thin hiss of rain as I tried to hear that gentle song. So far I hadn’t heard anyone approach nor had I heard the songs in the distance so I doubted a witch was watching us. But I still couldn’t help but be on edge. This hunt could go awfully wrong and could be the end of me if I wasn’t careful.

I glanced at Augusta, noting the sternness of her mouth and sharp glint of her eyes. I found it hard to lean on her but she appeared to be someone reliable. She was cautious, alert and sensitive to the tiniest of sounds. It was comforting. But I still didn’t know who she was or how she hunted. All I knew was Eva trusted her. That had to account for something.

A few more moments passed and Augusta leaned towards me. “Can you hear anything?” She whispered softly.

I shook my head sharply. “Not yet.”

“Walk around while listening.” Augusta suggested and stepped back, allowing me to have room again.

I did as she suggested and began to slowly pace around the graveyard while listening out for the strange, gentle hum. My boots sunk a little in the thickening mud and the wind slowly began to pick up. In the distance thunder rumbled, rolling about the sky like a lion’s roar. But gradually I began to pick up a gentle tinkling sound.

Cocking my head, I stopped where I was, staring at the row of graves before me. The chiming sound throbbed in the air, strengthening and dying in a soft wave. Carefully I followed it, letting it guide me towards the smallest crypt engulfed in green creepers and tiny white flowers. I reached for the iron door and touched it lightly before hissing and pulling my hand away. My fingertips burned and I turned to scowl at Augusta.

“Can you see anything?” I asked stiffly.

Augusta fidgeted, glaring at the door as she looked intently for the ward, but shook her head. “I can’t. Can you?”

“No.”

“It may be a ward to blind anyone without Allaway Matter.” She reached up and touched it, recoiling just as sharply as I had. “But it is definitely there. The burning is familiar to wards.”

“Then what do we do?” Ben asked behind me, the loudness of his voice grating against my ears a little. At least Augusta had the kindness to whisper with my Matter filling my ears.

“We blow it open.” I said as I pulled out my pistol.

No one seemed to dislike the noisy solution I suggested. Instantly Augusta hopped away from me and waved at the youngsters to do the same. Letting the Matter flee from my ears, it filled the clip in the gun and I stepped back, raising the barrel and aim at the centre of the door. Without waiting I pulled the trigger. The pistol bucked hard as the large Matter bullet shot out and tore through the door, leaving a deep indent and hole in the iron with a loud bang.

I lowered the pistol and stepped forward, touching the door and smiling grimly when nothing burned me. “It’s down.” I announced.

“Would you like to go in first?” Augusta asked gently. “One of us will be last and I think you will be far more sensitive to incoming danger and James’ scent.”

“I know.” I replied, already determined I was going to lead our group. I didn’t need logic or reasons to allow me to.

I kicked open the door roughly and let my Matter fill my eyes and ears, allowing me to the contents of the darkness clearly. There was a room inside, a place where the dead were laid to rest. But there was also a door at the end, one also covered in wards.

I shot my way through that ward also, tearing apart the Matter and opened the door slowly. A spiral staircase spun its way deeper into the earth and the clammy air stank of dust and rot. But there was something else mix in amongst the stale and age old air.

“I smell James.” I said softly, instantly making Hilary step forward and sniff at the air.

“I do too.” He confirmed, garnering excitement from the other three.

“Go slowly and carefully, Susan.” Augusta warned. “I’ll go last, make sure our backs are covered.”

I didn’t give any acknowledgement to her words and instead focused on the decent. As soon as I placed one foot on the first step, I began to hurriedly climb down with sure feet. The young ones followed closely, sniffing and shuffling with light feet as they tried to keep themselves quiet. Truth was, I knew being cautious was useless now. If a witch was down here waiting for us, they would know we were on our way when those wards dissolved. We just had to be alert to the trap and hopefully make it fail.

The steps wound down further than I anticipated but I tore down them quickly as the scent grew thicker and stronger. I only stopped when I reached the bottom and a long passage filled with darkness, cobwebs and crumbling walls opened up before me.

I holstered my pistol and drew my sword, weighing the blade for comfort gently. The scent was strong here but I didn’t like it. It was too strong with a metallic hint to it. As I scowled down the hallway, waiting for the youngsters to gather around me, I noted doors. Old wooden doors that either were too rotten to hold themselves together or barely holding onto the hinges.

Wordlessly, I indicated to the doors and the youngsters dove before me, fanning out to check each room as I stalked forward, glaring at the darkness. Augusta remained behind, watching the stairs and listening carefully as we worked as quietly as possibly. Nothing was found though. In the rooms there were old coffins, tombs, rotten wood, decaying books and now and then a skeleton. But no James.

I dove deeper down the hall, wondering when it would end, when I found one last door. This was the last place in this hidden crypt. There were no other doors, no other stairs and no other wards hiding passages.

And the gentle chime of a bracelet could be heard within.

I instantly raised my hand and indicated for the youngsters to step back. Augusta remained behind them, back to me as she watched the stairs further behind us, long swallowed up by gloom. Very cautiously I approached the door, worried by the strong scent of James that leaked out from behind it. My stomach began to grow heavy as I slowly registered why his scent was so strong but my heart refused to lose hope.

In one powerful movement, I kicked the door open, letting it smack against the wall hard. But what I saw inside made me both angry and very confused.

Sitting on an old chair was a child’s plastic doll and it was covered in blood. It glistened over the pink skin and congealed horribly in the doll’s yellow hair. It smiled eerily at me, perfectly content to be painted in James’ blood.

But the confusion I felt was enough to dull my reactions. The chiming suddenly echoed and, before I could react, something swung down from above and kicked me hard in the face. It sent me hurtling backwards, smashing into Hilary’s chest and sent us both flying down the hall.

The three others instantly blocked the witch’s way as she began to run forward towards me with her guns drawn and seething with Matter. She easily shoved them aside, avoiding their claws and ignoring their attempt at fighting her without a second thought. I knew this witch. She was the one who poisoned Lucius and the strongest by far and didn’t even seem to be bothered to take on my youngsters.

It dawned on me rapidly that this hunt was pointless. There was no way James was here. His blood and scent was nothing but a lure. This was nothing but a trap with no hope at finding our missing little one. And, if we didn’t get out now, some of us wouldn’t live.

“Get out and fly!” I yelled at the youngsters as I got onto my feet and wrenched Hilary upright.

As the witch drew towards me with an icy cold demeanour, watching as I turned on her and tried to protect Hilary as he fled, she raised her pistol. Just as she fired, there was a flurry of red moths and a clang of metal. The bullet shot up in the ceiling as Augusta’s blade pressed against the witch’s gun, holding it up high.

I had frozen from the display. Never had I seen anything like that in my life nor heard anything of the kind. Augusta had just teleported before the witch. She became a flurry of moths. It was impossible.

But danger niggled in my mind. There were other witches coming from above. We had to get out.

“Augusta, let’s go.” I snapped. “James isn’t here.”

I felt the witch’s gaze flicker to me before fixating on Augusta. “You may go. The Black Blood may not.”

Augusta hissed and pushed back hard then lashed out sharply, sending a small wave of Matter towards the witch that dissolved before it even reached her. “Your quarrel is with me.” Augusta snarled. “Stop bringing Lucius and his Clan into this.”

“You brought them into this the moment you murdered my aunt!” The masked witch snapped back. “I am taking the Black Blood tonight. You will not stop me like you stopped my weaker sisters.”

I wasn’t having them talk about me as if I wasn’t there. Knowing the youngsters were now fleeing and likely to survive, that taste for revenge began to fester. I wanted to sink my sword in that bitch’s gut for what she had done to Lucius, Al and Ella. I was going to force her to tell me where James was. And she definitely was not going to get away with what she had done to my Clan.

As Augusta clashed with the masked witch, I tore in with me own blade, a far more deadly opponent. My own blade hummed and groaned with Matter and sparked off of the masked witch’s in purple lights. Augusta would dance around her, exploding into that strange form of moths, allowing me to take over when things got awkward and go in from behind. For a moment we had the masked witch on her toes as she attempted to fight off one powerful enemy and one horribly illusive one. Now and then we managed to get an attack in, nicking at her face or neck and drawing a little blood. It gave us determination. She was good but not good enough to keep her defences up indefinitely with both of us wailing on her.

That was until he arrived.

Bounding down the steps with heavy thuds, the ancient vampire Guntram joined the frey and tilting the fight to a more equal footing on their part. Augusa twirled away, guarding my back as we all stopped for a moment. I faced the masked witch and doll covered in James’ blood while Augusta stared down Guntrum.

“Susan, you need to get out. This trap is for you.” Augusta said softly.

I snorted. “Not before I stab that bitch in the throat. She’s done my Clan too much damage to just ignore her and run with my tail between my legs.”

“If you stay, you’ll die.”

“You haven’t seen me fight yet.” I replied stubbornly as I gripped my blade tightly.

“I don’t intend to kill you Susan. Just take you.” The masked witch said as she stood up straight and checked her suit of gashes.

“You are not taking her.” Augusta’s tone was cold and calm. “She is leaving.”

Not before that witch is dead, I thought. My rage was boiling and my vengeance writhing as I watched the masked witch’s calm manner. I wanted her blood spattered across the walls and leaking from a hole in her throat. I wanted it so much I could taste it.

But there was suddenly no more words behind tossed about. It surprised me how quickly the two could move but Guntrum and the masked witch were on us in unison, hacking and clawing at air as Augusta and I avoided the attacks.

Augusta burst into a flurry of moths while I slithered up the witch’s defences to get behind her. I swung my sword round, aiming for her neck only to find my blade collide with hers. Shoving my attack back, she swiped at me several times, never trying to fatally harm me but constantly ramming at my sword hard. She was trying to wear me down or knock the sword from my hand. I gritted my teeth against the onslaught. She was powerful. Stupidly powerful. Even with my Matter unlocked I struggled to hold against her. But I was doing far better than our first encounter and I could smell the surprise as I refused to let her back me in a corner and managed to wriggle in a couple of strikes of my own.

I never knew what was happening to Augusta nor did I pay her much attention until I an explosion of blood blossomed in the air. The amount worried me but it was the familiarity of it that caught my attention. I instantly recognises it as the blood of a kin. Confused, I glanced to Augusta, noticing a deep gash on her neck as she twisted away, covering up the pain on her face with grim determination. Why did she smell like one of Lucius’? But the distraction, no matter how brief it was, was a mistake and I found the pommel of the witch’s sword smashing into my face with bone-crushing force.

I was forced backwards from the strength of the hit and momentarily dazed as warm blood covered my face. I heard my sword being kicked across the room before the witch’s foot smashed into my face again, crushing my head against the floor sickeningly hard, making the world become even more blurred than it was before.

Augusta called for me and obviously let her own attention fail. I heard her groan and a body crash against the wall opposite.

“The poison won’t kill you, Augusta, nor will it make you go mad.” The witch said as she knelt down beside me.

I gathered some strength and hissed, raising my fist to smash her own nose. It caught her by surprise and her head snapped back from the force. Finding my mind stable again, I tried to get up but Guntrum was on me and stabbing me in the neck with some weird liquid. It stunned me and I instantly found my limbs becoming jelly-like.

Holding her nose with the fabric of her face darkening with blood, the witch stood and strode back up the hall, ignoring Augusta as she raised her gun and fired it. The bullet disappeared long before it reached the witch and nothing but a soft breeze touched the back of her head.

I couldn’t do anything. I was fully awake. My mind sharp as ever but my body was numb, nothing but a rag-doll. As Guntrum hefted me over his shoulder, I watched Augusta as she stared after me with terror in her eyes, guilt and self-loathing. That was before pain took over her.

All I could do was let myself be taken, watch as Augusta was left in the darkness and, as the witch tied a bag over my head, cutting off my vision, wonder with some curiosity and fear as to what the Allaways wanted with me.

And, now that they had me, what did it mean for my Clan?