Vampires of the Eight, page 7
part #1 of Vampires of the Eight Series
As Stephen passed her, the woman grabbed Stephen from behind and snapped his neck. Stephen was dead before he hit the floor.
“Humans,” she said as he bent down and took the watch off Stephen’s wrist.
She walked back to Max’s office and handed him the watch.
“Good job, Desiree.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“How did the Fellowship of the Fangs get their hands on such technology?” Max asked as he looked over the silver watch.
Desiree looked at him. “Sir, I have been your bodyguard for three centuries, and in that timeframe, I have never seen the O blood types display any sort of technological advantage over the other blood types.”
“I disagree, Desiree.”
“What do you mean?”
“Firstly, Maryl had the capability to produce a great deal of the fine grey misty powder that killed most of my family. And that was over three hundred years ago.”
“I remember, sir. I was there.”
“Of course, Desiree. You saved mine and other A and B vampires that gruesome day.”
Desiree nodded.
“Secondly, Maryl Rosser hasn’t seemed to have aged as quickly as Sol or even Ray. How?”
Desiree shrugged her powerful shoulders.
“Fourth, Stephen Ward was able to penetrate a top-secret institute which took a clearance level even I couldn’t get.”
He went to the window behind his desk and put his hands behind his back. “And lastly, Stephen’s alliance with the Fellowship of the Fangs who have the technology and skill to read and project blood types from humans and vampires, all from a simple watch!”
“Sir, may I be blunt?”
Max came around the desk and stood inches from Desiree. “Of course. You of all people should know I respect your opinions.”
“With what you just told me, there is a secret war that has been going on behind your back, and I think you’re losing. You have always depended upon your brute strength for countless eons. The O’s are fighting back. After all, the O’s comprise only two of the eight blood types.”
“But they outnumber us at least a thousand to one. Shouldn’t the strength in numbers be enough for them?”
“No, I don’t think so. I think it runs deeper than that.”
“Explain yourself, Desiree.”
“I think they aren’t just content with outnumbering you. I believe they, the O types, feel it’s their right to exterminate your types.”
Clayton looked at Desiree, his most trusted ally. “Do you feel any tension or hatred from me since you are an O negative and aren’t in my blood type family?”
“No, sir. You’ve never given me a reason to.”
Clayton nodded. He retrieved the tote bag and handed it to Desiree. “I need you to take this over to our lab in McCordsville, Indiana. I want our technicians to take the serum and modify it to the way we discussed it. Please do this right away. My blood type's very survival depends upon it!”
“Right away, sir,” Desiree said as she quickly departed the room.
After Desiree left, Clayton went to his desk, sat down, and contemplated his next move. He looked on the floor to his right. He picked up the green tote bag that had Doctor Leadstone’s serum. Desiree had made a foolish blunder. She should have taken more time coming into his office to tell him about the watch. She knew all about the various functions and had explained it to him in great detail while Stephen was waiting. Only someone high up in the O type blood vampires would have access to that knowledge. So, Desiree Maholmes was exploiting their friendship and reporting everything to Maryl Rosser, the seeker?
When he initially asked Stephen what kind of bag he was going to put the serum in, Clayton bought two green tote bags as a precaution. Never in his wildest dream did he think Desiree would be a traitor, especially since he was fond of her.
He wondered what other valuable information Desiree had told Maryl for the past three hundred years. Clayton sighed as he waited for the call he expected.
A half an hour later, his cellphone rang.
“Hello, Maryl.”
“When did you find out?”
“That Desiree Maholmes was a traitor? Not until half an hour ago. She knew way too much about the functions of the watch Stephen Ward was wearing. I couldn’t dismiss such an obvious mistake. And let’s not forget about you! You’re outstanding at deception, Maryl Rosser.”
“And so are you, Clayton, by getting Stephen Ward to do your dirty work right under my nose, something I will speak to Desiree about. And let’s not forget stealing the serum from Doctor Leadstone and making up the façade of being Max. Brilliant. I imagine Stephen Ward is dead?”
“Yes, I had Desiree do it. What do you want, Maryl Rosser?”
“I need the serum. What you plan on doing with the serum is wrong! Surely, you must understand the plight of being an O negative in a world…”
“Maryl, spare me your sermon!”
“Then I will get to the point. Look outside your window where you are presently standing.”
Curious, Clayton went to the window and slightly parted the blinds.
“You realize Desiree told me what you are truly planning on doing with the serum. I can’t allow that.”
Clayton scanned fifteen O negative vampires, including Desiree, who did not seem pleased she was duped. However, he sniffed five more in the back of the safehouse.
“I am on neutral territory, Maryl. You can’t touch me,” Clayton said as he approached the nearest closet door.
“Your vile quest to steal the serum trumps the neutral territories. They are no more!” Maryl said in anger.
“Be reasonable, Maryl!”
“I am. I could have sent many more vampires. You could take maybe five or six of them, but not all of them,” Maryl said confidently.
“This is a breach of our alliance, which constitutes war, Maryl Rosser! Is that what you want?” Clayton demanded. He walked to the closet door and opened it. He pushed a small coat hook downward. A darkened slender walkway loomed ahead. He closed the closet door and rushed down the small passageway.
Maryl started to say something, but Clayton ended the call.
He scanned the perimeter as he heard the horde of vampires trying to break inside the safehouse. Despite the dwelling made from thick hardened oak wood, he knew it wouldn’t take them long to break in and trace his unique AB positive blood.
The narrow corridor gave way to a widened area. Clayton ran to a large workstation that had a computer and several servers that monitored all of the neutral sectors in a three hundred-mile radius. He pressed several keys on the keyboard, found the pre-loaded virus, and hit the enter button. He heard them up above. They were less than a minute away.
He rushed to a nearby covered vehicle. He quickly threw off the blue tarp, jumped in, turned on the ignition, and peeled away as the door broke from the hinges.
Clayton slammed on the accelerator and watched the vampires recede. He pressed a button on the steering wheel, and a large opening in the wall allowed him passage.
As Clayton drove, he thought about Maryl Rosser’s continued interference. Her intrusion didn’t start recently. Oh, no. It began with the great yeomen purge of 1751, where most of his family were exterminated.
Chapter Seven
The Great Yeomen Purge of 1751
Part One
Clayton was fed up with London and England as a whole. He had made a promise to the council over two hundred years ago to stay in England for his family’s sake, and he regrettably abided by that decision.
But how London had changed in the ensuing two centuries! The city was filthy and filled with poor sickly people. Beggars loitered at every street corner. Garbage littered the streets, and the citizenry urinated into the roads as the horses trotted idly by.
There was so much horse dung in the streets it looked like mud, thought Clayton. His hyper eyesight caught the sight of several beautiful large homes in the outskirts that were in stark contrast to the living conditions nearby.
The street vendors were the only thing Clayton looked forward to after tilling the acreage his tribes owned on the fringes of the city. He bought salt, along with some goat filled pastries and some hot pea soup. While London was filled with potential food, most notably humans, they stayed clear from the outer reaches of the city.
It was lucky his blood types could handle human food, he thought as he roamed the slushy roads of London.
Clayton gathered up the food he had bought and quickly walked down the dirt road. He was ready for a meal, no matter if it was human food or a human.
He hadn’t walked several paces when a man blocked his path. He was bulky, or it seemed to Clayton since the soiled sweater was too large for him. The bloke wore a cap that once appeared to be yellow, but now only traces of the yellow appeared between the excess of stains.
Clayton was feeling generous, so he moved out of the gentleman’s way. The man walked to the same side, effectively blocking him.
The man sniffed the air. “You’re one of them sweet smellers, ain’t ya?”
“And you smell sour, what of it? Are you going to let me pass, or do I have to go through you?”
“I just wanted to relay a message to you, Clayton Cole of the Cole Tribe,” the man said with a tinge of humor.
Clayton hid his surprise. No one in the city knew who he was. To the humans, he was just a farmer. “I can’t wait to hear it. What’s the message?”
“The Yeomen class, which your tribes are, are going to lose your lands that you’ve labored for so long.”
“But why? I am neither rich nor poor and don’t own much land.”
“That’s what the Yeomen class means, you humbug.”
“Hey, now! There’s no reason for cuss words,” (4) Clayton said with a touch of anger.
“Anyways, that’s all I came here for. You can go back to your land before it’s taken from ya.”
“Who dispatched you to find me?”
The man smiled. He only had three teeth on the top of his mouth and two teeth on the bottom. “Sol Rastin, the mediator, and Maryl Rosser, the Seeker sent me.”
The man got out of his way, tipped his hat in Clayton’s direction, and walked down the dirt path while whistling a tune.
Clayton hurried his pace, and when he was out of range of the marketplace, he used his vampire speed to race home, eager to learn what was going on with his land.
When he got home, his twin sons, Markus and Grady, were eating human food. Clayton placed the items he had purchased on the kitchen table and looked at them.
“Where is your mother?”
Grady, the husky of the two, replied, “She is at the council. They had an emergency meeting.”
“Why was I not summoned?” demanded Clayton.
“Mom told us to let you be, that she would take care of the meeting,” Markus said in a soft-spoken manner.
“Come with me, both of you!”
Clayton raced out of the house with his sons right behind him.
When they got to the circular wooden area, all of the spots were taken. Clayton walked to the edge of the wooden deck. A chorus of chatter resounded all around him.
“What is the meaning of this session? Clayton yelled.
The talking stopped, and everyone’s eyes turned to him. Ada walked down the steps from the entrance, took hold of Clayton, and guided him to the center stage.
“We are glad you are here, husband!”
Murmurs of approval sprung up and threatened to halt Clayton’s questions.
“Everyone, calm down, and tell me what is going on!” Clayton demanded.
“King George, the second, has declared our land Yeomen class and aims to take it away!” Ada in a state of panic.
“Why would he do such a thing?” Clayton asked no one in particular.
“Landowners have crops and animals, both typically make money, according to the decree that was posted on our front door. It was placed soon after you left to go to the marketplace, father,” Markus said plainly.
“And King George wants all of our lands! Either we give him our lands, or he will forcibly take it from us!” Ada cried.
“No one is going to take our land!” Clayton decreed.
“Son, if you don’t know, King George’s army outnumbers all of our kin of smellers by more than a thousand fold,” Tabatha stated firmly.
“But we can’t die from their muskets or knives. Our skin is imperious to such stuff,” Clayton said with exasperation.
“But we can’t fight them, son,” Tabatha said with sadness.
“Why not?” Clayton said in disbelief.
“Because then he, and the entire kingdom, will know of our existence!” Ada complained.
“It’s true, son. We can’t let humans know vampires are living among them.”
“Doesn’t this tribe, and the others represented here, see what I see? They can’t kill us, so what would be the worst thing that could happen? We fight, they eventually lose, and we get to keep our land and have plenty of meals to fill our belly’s!”
“While that may be true, Clayton, you need to expand your scope of thought,” Tabatha said as she folded her arms.
“Make me see the full scope of the picture, would you please, mother? Because apparently, I am not grasping it.”
Tabatha looked around at the council members, then at her son. “If we choose to fight and win, it will allow King George to know the existence of our kind. In the process, he will learn of the other types of vampires and, if he was smart, forge relationships with the other smellers who don’t have land, which comprises most of the different types of smellers. With them on the King’s side, we could conceivably lose both our land and our lives.”
“Then we need to have a peace treaty with the other kinds of vampires,” Clayton said with seriousness.
“No, there has to be another way, husband!”
“I am open to suggestions. Let me ask you a question, Ada. Do you want them to take our land away from us?”
“No, of course not.”
“Did you want to help fight them off?”
“No.”
“Then, I am at a loss of what you want, Ada.”
“I, Grady Cole and my twin brother, Markus Cole, will volunteer ourselves to go to the other tribes and ask them for a meeting!”
“No!” Tabatha and Ada said at the same time.
“Why not?” Grady asked.
“They might hurt you or even kill you!” Ada retorted.
“And risk the wrath and fury of our father, the leader of the most powerful vampire tribe? I don’t think so!” Grady stated passionately.
Clayton went to Ada and wrapped his hands around her ample waist. “Their idea does hold sway with me, Ada,” Clayton whispered.
“But what if something happened to them, Clayton? I could never live with myself!”
“Nothing is going to happen to them! I know their tribe leaders, Sol the mediator, and Maryl Rosser, the seeker.”
“Yes, but are they trustworthy?” Ada asked as she looked at the man she knew so well and adored.
Clayton pondered for a moment. “Put it this way, Sol and Maryl will need our help if King George should go after them too.”
“But we may be dead by then!” Ada said with fear. “If King George went after Sol and Maryl first, they would tell the King of more powerful tribes of vampires. They could conspire with King George the second!”
“That would never happen. We own the farmland, and they don’t. And both Maryl and Sol dislike humans.” He looked around for a second. “Enough talk. I want this put to a vote right now! Who here favor my sons Markus and Grady to contact the other rulers and ask them to meet at a neutral location to discuss a peace treaty to thwart King George the second?”
All hands rose except Tabatha, Clayton’s mother, and Ada.
Clayton looked at his two favorite females. “The council has spoken. And remember, Beatrice and Milas, your two younger children, also voted in favor, mother.”
“Both of my children are weak. They will abide by anything you say or do, Clayton!” Tabatha spat.
“Mother, how are they to grow strong without encouragement? How are they to learn battle skills and mental preparation by staying here in the safety net of our tribes?”
“I am only concerned with their welfare, Clayton,” Tabatha said wearily.
“As I am, mother, but they will have to grow up sooner or later. Both are close to two hundred and fifty years old and never have been in a skirmish or a large-scale battle.”
“You are the head of the council. You make the call, son.”
Clayton bowed. “Grady! Markus! You may go. Mother, I submit to you. What message would you have your grandchildren say to Sol and Maryl?”
Tabatha’s face tightened in a smile. The fact Clayton had directed her to give the message was twofold. He let her create the narration, which was both a privilege and extraordinarily rare for a council leader to do, but it came at a price. Depending upon the information and how it was worded, it could provoke Sol and Maryl into thinking the message was a sign of weakness.
“I am honored, Clayton,” Tabatha said with uncertainty.
With the council in full session, it put additional pressure on Tabatha. She had to choose her wording wisely.
“Tell the two leaders we want to meet with them, and if they ask why do not tell them. Instead, if asked, tell them you were not told why. Do not put any urgency in your voices. The less said, the better. It might even make them curious enough to come.”
“And if they ask where and when grandmother?” Grady asked with respect.
“In one week where the trees yield and bend to the ground. They will know where the trees are located.”
Grady and Markus bowed.
Tabatha raised her hand in warning. “You will need to feast upon the humans to gain strength. But make sure the humans aren’t discarded where they can be easily seen.”
“Of course, grandmother,” Grady said as he nodded to Markus. They sped off through the crops that dotted the landscape.
“Do you think they will be okay, Clayton?” Tabatha asked with worry.
“They will be fine.”
