The Blood Queen: Chapter One

This is the first chapter of my latest novel, The Blood Queen, available now on Amazon and other bookstores

Chapter One

“Whatever the hell you want, the answer is no,” I said.

I admit, it’s not the best way to start off a conversation. I was in the middle of trying to get ten different things done at the same time, so I might have been a bit short-tempered. In my defense, when someone knocks on my door at nine-thirty in the morning unannounced, I tend to get ornery, particularly since I had not gone to bed until nearly three in the morning. Lack of sleep plus lack of caffeine does not make for a happy wizard.

The man standing on my doorstep was about the same height as me, but not as broad-shouldered. I’m built like a small refrigerator with legs. The gentleman at my door looked like he had been built for hard, manual labor. I’m pretty sure that was how he made a living in his native Cuba, a few centuries ago.

Jet black hair was cut short and slicked back until it sat neatly on his scalp. Along his right cheek was an old scar that ran to his chin. I noticed a newer scar, still pink and white on his left cheek. It was still in the process of healing. Another day, and the remnants of the gash would vanish.

He slowly took off his sunglasses, revealing black eyes with irises ringed in crimson.

Manuel Vega, the Lord of Tampa and leader of the vampires in the region, sized me up and gave me a small smile.

“Nico,” he said, brushing aside my hostility as if it I hadn’t spoken. “May I come in?”

There are a lot of old wives’ tales regarding vampires from around the world. Garlic, crosses, and most other supposed vampire-icides are not what they’re cracked up to be; although, I have heard of instances—flukes—where they have worked.

One bit of lore that I knew was true from experience was that a vampire could not enter a home without receiving permission. I wasn’t certain where that particular trait was picked up; but, it had been the case with all the vampires I’d encountered over the years. Granted, I hadn’t met all the different kinds of vampires in the world…

A small shudder went up my spine when the thought of vampires that could enter a home unannounced went through my mind. I forced the thoughts away. I’ve had enough nightmares—no sense in adding anymore…

I stared at Manuel Vega for several long moments. It had been nearly a year since he’d revoked his protection over me.

I admit, I had earned his rejection, what with barging into a meeting of the most powerful vampires in the region and making Manny look like a fool. For all their talk about how they’ve transcended mortal concerns and needs, vampires can be a prickly lot when you insult their pride and their social standing. In a society created to favor the most cunning of their number, vampires that cannot project strength in all situations quickly find themselves facing true death at the hands of their fellow bloodsuckers.

Granted, he’d still managed to supply me with vials of venom so that I could continue to make the anti-venom I needed in case I ran into any of his court…

Vampires of the Caribbean are tied closely to snakes on a metaphysical level. Caribbean vampires have venom sacks in their cheeks, with larger fangs set in the roof of their mouths that can pop out. The venom doesn’t kill you. It just makes you fatigued and easier to feed on with their normal fangs.

So, while Manny was not publicly covering for me with the rest of the vampires in the Tampa Bay area, he was making sure that I had a fighting chance against anyone who attempted to take me out.

When I pick lovers, I really pick them. Maybe Angela was right and I should take a vow of celibacy.

Nah, I could never make that work.

“Nicodemus, are you going to make me stand out here all morning?” asked Manny, impatiently.

“I stand by my previous statement,” I replied. “Whatever the hell it is, the answer’s ‘no’.”

The vampire cursed under his breath. “You are the most infuriating man I’ve ever taken to my bed.”

I smiled, wolfishly. “At least you can’t say I’m not memorable.”

A wry grin covered the vampire’s features, showing a hint of his fangs.

Part of me felt the chill that only comes when you’re in the presence of a predator. An entirely different part of me felt a tug when I remembered what his mouth was capable of, in the right circumstances…

“Give me a second, Manny,” I said. I concentrated, drew in a wisp of the ambient energy in the area, and lowered the warding spells I’d built into my home. “Step inside and be quick about it.”

Once the vampire lord entered, I quickly re-established the wards and shut the door. My office is not that big, barely larger than a normal bedroom. Shelves lined the walls, most of which are covered in old books and tomes on magical theory and monsters. A few hollowed-out filing cabinets had been retrofitted with panels to store alchemical supplies that I used in creating potions and unguents. Hanging over my desk was a stuffed alligator a friend in the United Kingdom had sent me. According to them, every wizard needed one in their office.

“You’ve been cleaning up the place,” observed Manny as he casually scanned the room. “Not nearly as cluttered as the last time I was here.”

“You mean when I last revoked your invitation to my home?” I said, sounding harsher than I had wanted to.

Manny shrugged. The set of his shoulders was taut, despite that gesture. As he paced about the office, I could see his muscles tensing under the designer suit that he wore. Now that I was getting a good look at him, the charcoal suit was wrinkled in a few places, as was the shirt underneath the blazer. He’d evidently changed quickly or didn’t care that his suit wasn’t pressed before heading out. That detail made me take a seat and clasp my chin in my hands. Manny was always meticulous about his appearance, regardless of the occasion. Even when we would meet for… casual reasons, his clothing was always pressed and immaculate. They didn’t stay that way for long during those meetings; but, it’s the thought that counts, right?

The vampire spent a few moments staring at a wall calendar on the right side of my office. A pair of dates were circled, two and three days from today.

My heartbeat skipped a little faster at that. Almost a year ago, I had been cursed by an organization known as the Scarlet Assembly, which serves as the governing body for all wizards, witches, sorcerers, and magic-users in North America. I’d violated their laws too often since my exile from that body of witless bureaucrats, despite having worked a handful of jobs for them over the years. They’d gifted me two coins as part of the Rite of Charon—yeah, that Charon—and a curse that was supposed to kill me inside of a week, at most. That hadn’t worked out as the Assembly had hoped, mainly through the intervention of a Crone named Baba Yaga.

But, my time was almost up. The charm bag I wore around my neck that held the two cursed coins was going to fade within the next few days. Once it did, I was dead. No ifs, no ands, no buts. Dead and gone.

“Do you have somewhere to be today?” asked Manny, still staring at the calendar.

“A few places,” I said. “I’ve a wedding to attend and a friend to pick up along the way.”

Manny turned back to me, his red-rimmed eyes studying me.

It’s an altogether uncomfortable feeling being this close to a vampire. There are moments when they don’t bother with the façade of being a living creature. They stop breathing, which is chilling in and of itself. Then they stop moving. Sit around a group of people and there’s always this nervous, kinetic energy in a person—vampires don’t have that. Whatever dark curse powers a vampire’s body removes that spark of life from them, replacing it with a never-ending hunger. While Manny was a more attractive variant of them, vampires are animated corpses; they’re monsters at the end of the day. Even though I’ve had this one in my bed on more than a few occasions, I’ve never forgotten what Manny was truly capable of…

“Your friend—the Deputy Sheriff--what was her name again?”

I smirked.

Manny knew damned good and well her name. But he was playing with me, as he often did in these one-on-one conversations. “Angela Blackwell. You should remember that. You still owe her boss a big favor from when she got shot.”

Vega’s eyebrows raised as if recalling a distant, faded memory. “Yes. The tall, black gentleman. I remember reading online that he was recently promoted.”

Nodding along more out of boredom than agreement, I replied, “Yes, and he’s got a new police unit up and running. They’ll be working cases involving the supernatural. Which means you need to get your house in order.”

That remark made Vega go quiet.

For a brief moment, I watched the red irises narrow and something like pain flare through them. I’d hit the nail on the head with my comment.

With as much joy as I could muster this early in the morning, I gave the Lord of Tampa my best shit-eating grin, “That’s why you’re here,” I remarked, “She’s come back, hasn’t she?”

Vega took a seat and hunched forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He stared at me intently for several long moments, before lowering his gaze to the floor.

“Magdelena has come back,” I continued, “I’d heard you were making preparations for her return.”

A slight nod was all I received in response.

“And you want me to do… what, exactly?”

“I want you to fight for me,” Manny said. “I want you to kill my sister.”

Magdelena Vega had been a persistent issue in my life for more than a year. She’d managed to teach a sorcerer by the name of Terry Masters some serious magic, including a ritual that stole the life energy from human body parts to increase his connection to magic. Terry had been attempting to use that ritual to steal the magical potential of his nephew, James, when I’d helped kill the bastard. Before Terry was immolated by his nephew, he’d managed to gravely wound Magdelena in a betrayal the smug bitch never saw coming.

Manny’s sister wanted one thing: his position as the ruling vampire of the Tampa Bay area. With the Bay area under her control, she’d be able to live out whatever perverse power fantasies she’d been harboring for the last few centuries.

Angela, a couple of other trusted friends, and I had spent the last six months searching for her to put her down. All of it had been in vain, though. The vampiress was always three steps ahead of us.

Vega looked up at me. I had a sharp intake of breath as I could no longer see the hate in his eyes. Jet-black saucers looked at me like I was the owner of a miracle cure.

“She sent someone after you last night, didn’t she?” I asked, pointing to the fresh scar on his cheek.

“Yes, she did,” he replied, his voice lower. “The shadow war has started between us.”

Leaning forward, Manny reached out and placed his hand on my desk.

Part of me wanted to reach out and hold it, despite our differences over the last year. Instead, I leaned back in my chair.

“Not my problem, Manny,” I said.

A chill swept over the room as Manny’s face hardened. “Not your problem?” he asked, incredulously, “How is it not your problem?”

“Your house. Your mess. You clean it up.”

I watched as whatever invisible weight Manny carried nearly doubled him over even further. A part of me wanted to help him. But, I was on borrowed time. Getting involved in a shadow war between vampires was not how I wanted to spend the last few days of my life.

“She’s going to come for you,” said Manny, “regardless of whether you fight for me or not. She hasn’t forgiven you for killing her pet sorcerer.”

“No, I imagine she hasn’t,” I sighed, “Then again, I’m not the one who she’s despised for the last however many centuries.”

“It wasn’t always like that.” Manny leaned back and closed his eyes. His hands went to the bridge of his nose and rubbed the skin. “We were happy together, once... She changed when she left Tampa in 1965. The person that came back ten years ago was not my sister.”

I hadn’t known that about Manny and Magdelena. Her return to Tampa was before I first arrived in the city. And, it wasn’t until Manny and I had become… more intimately acquainted that she took any notice of me.

There was also the statement I’d heard Terry Masters make before he burned Magdelena alive. He’d said that he was not going to serve her master. Most likely, whomever Manny’s sister met during her time away from Tampa had played a key role in turning her into the fratricidal maniac she was today. I’d never told Manny about Terry’s statement, mainly because I didn’t think he needed to know that.

Wizards love their secrets and I figured this wasn’t the time to speak on it just yet.

“Or maybe, just maybe, she just got tired of living in a big shadow,” I said. “Either way, she’s your sister. Deal with her.”

“She’s gone to ground again,” he replied. “The assassins last night were amateurs. She sent fledgling vampires hoping they’d at least slow me down.”

I nodded and smirked a bit. “Soften you up for the kill.”

A murderous scowl painted Manny’s lips as he rose. “You’re really going to deny my request? You know what’ll happen if she wins.”

I stroked my chin and contemplated my next words carefully. “I imagine she’ll remove any of your lieutenants that are still alive. Then, she’ll remove anyone who waited until the end to decide where their loyalties laid.” I paused and stared up at Vega, locking my eyes to his.

It’s never a good idea to stare a vampire in the eyes. They are creatures of powerful will, and their gaze can cause even the most resolute person to succumb to that insidious will.

“In the end, she’ll just be a more bloodthirsty version of you.”

I dropped my gaze to the bridge of his nose as I finished speaking. Manny’s expression faltered and he took a step back, nearly tipping over the chair from which he’d just recently risen.

If I had shot him in the chest with a shotgun, I doubt I could have wounded him any further. It was a petty thing to say to him; but, I wasn’t in the mood to indulge his murderous request. If Manny wanted a pawn in his war against Magdelena, he was going to have to find someone else to fill that spot on the board.

Neither of us spoke for several minutes.

When he had finally composed himself, Manny straightened out his blazer and adjusted the collar of his dress shirt. “If that’s your answer, I’ll accept it,” he turned on his heel to make his way to the door, before spitting back at me, “For now.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” I retorted.

“That she is going to come for you. Soon. You’re in this war, whether you like it or not, Nico.” He opened the door. “Will your wards affect me?”

I shook my head. “I’ve modified them. You can leave without triggering them.”

The Lord of Tampa’s shoulders slumped, but he didn’t utter another word. He simply opened the door and left, shutting it with more force than was required. I took a deep breath and rested my elbows on my desk, cupping my face in my hands as I did.

Two, maybe three more days.

I didn’t need this kind of shit in my life. Not anymore. While I certainly wouldn’t mind seeing Magdelena get buried, I didn’t have much time left. All I wanted for my last days were to see Patricia Masters and Bart Majester get married, give James one final gift, and then wander into Sideways to meet my end without taking anyone else with me… Perhaps, Baba Yaga would be waiting for me so that my death would be quick and painless. The Crone can be many things, but cruel to her favorite “grandson” is not one of them.

“You were pettier than usual with him,” croaked a chirpy voice to my left.

I looked up and saw my familiar, Corvix, had appeared on his perch. A spirit crow as large as a house cat, he had been my companion for many years. Corvix served many purposes for me, although the one position he’d appointed himself to was to be my ever-present reminder of how much I sucked as a wizard and as a person. Think Jiminy Cricket, but with more biting sarcasm.

“It’s not like he didn’t earn it,” I replied.

For a moment, I could almost swear Corvix was smiling. Don’t ask how a bird can smile without lips. It’s as unsettling as it sounds. “You’re not wrong in that regard, Nicodemus. And, I wasn’t judging you—merely stating a fact.”

“Your statements of fact are almost always judgments, Corvix.”

“Also true,” replied the crow, “We knew this was coming. Oscar’s warning seems to have been far more accurate than I’d anticipated.”

“Have you heard anything?”

The familiar snapped its beak twice, “None of my usual sources have heard anything of Magdelena’s plans. How she’s managed that is beyond me.”

A lump of stone filled my gut at that thought. Spirit crows are secret-keepers and watchers. Amongst their own kind, hoarding knowledge and exchanging them for new bits of information is how they pass the time. It was the main reason I had initially agreed to bind myself to Corvix when we’d met all those years ago. If you ever see a small murder of crows sitting on a fence or a power line, I can guarantee you that at least one of them is a spirit crow. Same goes for ravens.

“How goes the final translation from the grimoire?” I asked as I stood up. “Any further along?”

“I should have it finished by the end of the day,” he answered, “Just in time for the end of the reception. Speaking of which—you’re going to be late to pick up Angela, if you don’t leave soon.”

I placed a hand reverently on the leather-bound tome on my desk. A symbol had been branded into the leather: a cross with three concentric circles connecting the T-shaped arms together. In magical circles, it was known as Plato’s Map or the Atlantis Cross. It was the symbol of my father’s family, dating back to the waning years of the Roman Empire.

The book was one of my father—Anthony’s—grimoires, a collection of magical theories he’d spent much of his life working on. He had created many such collections during his long life. This one had been created some time after my mother Katarina’s death. Driven by his grief over her murder at the hands of a witch doctor, Anthony had sought to find a way to cheat death through necromancy.

Over the past six months, Corvix and I had nearly decoded the entire book. The things I’d learned—both about my father and his obsession with defeating death—had been eye-opening, to say the least; but, none of the secrets within were what I’d been hoping for: a way to remove the Rite of Charon. While the additional necromantic spells I’d acquired had yet to be proven useful, the fact remained that I was running out of time.

“See what you can do about the last section,” I paused as I moved to the doorway that led to the rest of my house. I turned back and faced my familiar.

Corvix cocked its head to the side and stared at me with its warm black eyes.

“There’s one other thing.”

“What is that, Nico?” the spirit crow asked with more politeness than I’d ever heard during our time together.

I channeled a small bit of energy and raised a hand in Corvix’s direction. Concentrating on the effect I wanted to create, I uttered, “Absolvisti in morte.”

A tether of emerald green energy, barely thicker than a wisp of smoke, traveled from my hand and wrapped around Corvix, settling over his wings and torso. The energy coalesced around his form, where it began to mix with a purplish-black pulse of power. As the spell settled, the combined energies disappeared.

“When I die, old friend,” I said finally, “I release you from our bond.”

Something like a tear formed in Corvix’s left eye. My familiar bowed its head solemnly.

“If I could ask one thing of you, after I’m gone?”

“Far be it for me to deny a dying man a last request,” replied Corvix. The spirit crow gave me a wink.

“Would you consider offering your services to James? He’s going to need guidance, once I’m gone.”

Puffing its chest out with pride, Corvix bowed its head again, more deeply this time. “It would be my honor, Nico.”

“Thanks, Corvix,” I said. I gave the crow a small smile. “I’m heading out. You know how to find me when you’re done with the book.”

I grabbed the hanger my suit was on, covered in a black cloth to protect the fabric. It was a rental, so I was being a little more cautious than normal. A small bag on my couch held a shoe box for the dress shoes I planned to wear, as well as my gift for the new bride and groom. The last thing I grabbed was a box about three feet long that had a red ribbon tied to it.

Giving a final nod to Corvix, I headed out to my Jeep.