Bloodlines

Ridley swept the same patch of floor in the inn’s dining space with her arm still in the sling. Fifi behind the bar, serving a group of American hunters that checked in yesterday. The were soaking the beer dry and not the least bit phased by it. It was loud in the dining space with the three hunters passed sobriety. The Source continued sweeping those same four tiles while the Americans were yelling over each other.

Ennui poured himself a glass of cognac, clinking his glass with the American hunter who had the Great Dane’s leash in his other hand. Ennui grabbed the back of the broom. When Ridley turned to face him and he held up the glass to her. “Takes the edge off, mon petit Clarke," was all he said. Ridley shook her head at him then looked him dead in the eye. Her eyes flashed a murky grey but to him, they were gold. “What did you do,” he hissed softly.

“I killed a friend,” was all Ridley said.

“Drink it, then you pack your things and leave.”

“Ennui...”

“I warned you,” he jeered in whispers. He slammed the glass into her hand and grabbed the broom from her other. “France is not the place for such things. Go!”

The innkeeper backed away from her ruefully. He sighed then returned to his usual perch at the front desk. Ridley looked down into the glass then swirled it. The thought she tried not to think about was made very prominent in that moment. Can I still have non-ampyra food? “Is it weird that I’ve been wondering the same thing,” Ankh asked her. “I know I’m in your head but did I think of it, or did you?”

The huntress exhaled her nerves then took a weak sip. She furrowed her eyebrows then took a mouthful. Plain cognac. “That answers that question,” she mumbled. Ridley went to hand the glass to Fifi. Ennui scowled at her as she came to the stairs. “I’m sorry, sir,” she concluded then went to retrieve the bags she didn’t bother to unpack upon returning.

“Where’re you going to go?”

“I’ll find another hunter hostel,” Ridley replied, slinging her duffle bag over her arm in the sling. “How’s Tomás?”

“He’s worried about you but still angry,” the wolfen sighed. “He vanishes for most of the day but Sebastian says he doesn’t leave the castle. Says he goes to be with his wife and daughter. Some room on the far side.”

“Dominique?”

“Hasn’t left her room in since the ball. She’s not stemming, Ridley, and honestly the morale around here is in the toilet. They’re still cleaning blood off walls.” Ridley sighed then combed her hair aside. “How’s the arm?”

Ridley tugged her suitcase off the bed with her left hand. “There’s still a bullet it. I can’t cut it out; I heal too quickly. It also hurts to move because it’s right in my humeral joint.”

“Very concerned as to how casually you cut things out of bodies,” Ankh voiced. “Have you tried stabbing yourself with surgical forceps then using them to pull out the bullet?” Ridley hummed thoughtfully. “If you’re doing that please do it under medical supervision!”

The Source shut the hostel door behind her defeatedly before she sadly trudged down the stairs. Ennui was buried in his newspaper when the room key clanged onto his desk. Ridley pouted at him but he wouldn’t meet her eye. She nodded to herself, understanding, then begrudgingly made for the front door.

“Be careful out there, le petit Clarke,” Ennui whispered.

Ridley glanced over her shoulder to see him flip the page in his newspaper, still not looking up. She smirked then left, wheeling her suitcase in her weaker hand. The late afternoon was filled with a soft breeze. The Mediterranean’s crashing waves could be heard but their calming music did nothing to sudden surge of loneliness the Source felt.

She started walking, wallowing to herself, only going where her feet would take her; no set destination. The people were abuzz with excitement for the weekend. The night clubs and bars were preparing for the inevitable Friday night ruckus. Ridley passed them, becoming disorientated. Her hunter instincts kicked in but there was something more.

It was in the air and it made her uncomfortable. That sensation meant one very specific thing: danger was close. Her karambit was strapped on her left leg now and her hand itched to reach for it and leave behind her suitcase. She kept working, eyeing anyone she saw, even the stray cats. The feeling only got worse and she took a dagger from her duffle bag and tucked it in her sling.

Adrenaline was seeping in; her heart beat erratic and blood roared in her hot ears. She kept her eyes peeled, trusting her heightened senses with a pinch of salt. Don’t! Ridley spun around to the male voice but saw nobody talking to her. She hummed then continued up the street. Ridley, Stop! She obeyed but didn’t look around and closed her eyes to focus her hearing. On your right!

Her head spun to the right as a black van sped passed her. “Ridley,” Ankh’s voice called from inside the van.

She took off sprinting after the raging van. “Ankh!” She could sense they jabbed Ankh with a sedative. “I’m coming!”

“Castle! They need you.”

“I’m not leaving you!”

“I know... you find... me. Go!” Ridley still charged after the van. She snatched the dagger in her sling and threw it at the tyre. The van swerved to avoid an oncoming car, swiftly missing the knife. “Go. Please... pro-- protect your... fam-”

“Ankh! Stay with me!” Ridley leaped clean over the red Fiat then picked up her dagger and threw it again. It pierced into the door. She flipped over the cars that slammed on their brakes from the van. “Ankh!” The radio silence that followed made hot tears burn Ridley’s eyes. “Stay with me!” She slowed down and watched, enraged, while the van disappeared through the streets. “Ankh.”

Clenching a fist, Ridley inhaled sharply then turned back and ran. She let out a monstrous roar while running, earning pedestrians to watch her run. She ignored the traffic lights and great amount of car horns. After almost being rammed by a taxi, she still ran across the intersection and started up the hill. Tyre streaks were crazily over the pathway.

Bullet casings were littered across the front along with the bodies of the castle’s inhabitants. Perforated by bullets. Inside, men in black paramilitary wear were bleeding gold from claw marks and bites. White hot rage filled Ridley and she fell to her knees. The glass-shattering scream she elicited was met with endless stabbings into the dead goldblood in front of her.

“Mademoiselle,” Genevieve called then peeled Ridley off of the man. “Thank God you are alive!” The maid ran her hands over Ridley’s face. After wiping her tears, she pulled the huntress into a tight hug. Ridley could feel how she was shaking, despite her exceptionally demure exterior. “There was s-so much violence.”

Ridley sighed then relaxed into Genevieve’s embrace. “Are you hurt?” The goldblood shook her head mutely. “Is there somewhere safe you can go? Somewhere away from here?” Ridley straightened up to face Genevieve. It was the huntress’ turn to wipe the maid’s tears as Genevieve shook her head. “Okay. Make sure all the injured are taken somewhere they can be treated. I’ll look at the security and deal with the dead.”

“They took the wolf one. Their leader... h-he said to tell you that-” she sighed then hugged herself.

Ridley cupped Genevieve’s cheeks, her eye glowing grey. She tilted her head the felt the masked shooter in front of her as if she were here during the shooting. Genevieve was laying on her back and the shooter aimed his rifle at her but scoffed. “I have a message for Clotilde’s offspring,” he said. “The girl, her time is coming. We will find her. Edwyn awaits the moment they see each other again.”

He stepped away from Genevieve then retreated with his men. Genevieve sat up to see she had soaked herself in urine. She whimpered while backing herself into a bookshelf to sob in fear. She shied behind it. Ridley cut off the memory. Ridley exhaled roughly then stood before aiding Genevieve to her feet.

“Where’s Tomás?” Genevieve shook her head weakly, crying all over again. “Go.” the servant took off in terror. Ridley clenched a fist, seething. “Deep breaths, Axel.” She closed her eyes. breathing deeply. “Where are you, Tomás?”

It was strange having so many people in her head, like having enough ajar to populate a planet. Even concentrating on one specific person, dozens combed through her mind. Men, women, children. Their voices meshing into overwhelming echoes in her head. She grunted from the strain. Stop. Ridley ignored the voice. You will kill every vampire if you do not desist. She sighed when she caved in.

“How do I this?”

The Bloodline is not meant to be abused! Ridley scowled. You cannot meddle in the affairs of lesser bloods! We are vessels, meant to safeguard our race’s survival, not Gods keeping an eye on our creations.

Ms Axel, this was Earnest’s voice, Ninsun is right. I know you want to help but you must leave. Ridley rolled her eyes then made for the grand stairs. Worried staff were cowering in the most incognito of hiding places. If she didn’t smell them or hear their terrified hearts racing, Ridley might not have known they were there. She couldn’t see them at all! You must live a life with nobody knowing what you hold within you.

The life Earnest lived was a risky one, a third voice echoed in her head. To live among others is dangerous. You must live isolated. You must protect the Bloodline. Ridley looked down the two ways the corridor ran, trying to ignore her predecessors. Insolent woman! You will end our race with your selfish devilment! She went down the corridor.

What do you hope to accomplish!

Ms Axel, desist. I beg you.

“Shut up!” Ridley roared then punched into the wall. The force cracked into the brick. She closed her eyes as she spoke, “one of you tell me where my brother is or how to find him or all of you be quiet!”

Our people will end because of you, Ridley Dominique Axel!

Ridley darted towards Tomás’ room to find it empty. “Where are you,” she jeered fearfully to herself. She gasped. “Dominique!” Ridley bolted down the gilded hallway and up a second staircase. “Dominique,” she called. “Sebastian! Tomás!”

She took a corner, skidding on the polished tiles, then continued her haste. She passed the library, drawing rooms, an whole room dedicated to Dominique’s excessive shopping finds. Her bedroom, the white double doors, were open and barely clinging to their hinges. The room was turned upside down. The double king-sized bed for one... the mattress was flipped over, sheets and pillows scattered. Her desk, her sofas, all Dominique’s furniture was in disarray.

Erratic heartbeats in the closet returned the colour in her face, though not much of her relief. Nonetheless, Ridley grabbed the dagger in her sling. Her leather ankle boots’ footfalls landed in muffled pats across the carpet. For the first time in many, many years, Ridley’s hands were trembling. She took a silent breath in before kicking in the door to the walk-in closet.

A shriek followed. A shot fired! It was a crossbow bolt. It hit Ridley in her able shoulder. She grunted when she tore it out. In the closet, behind the pillar, were Viggo and Dominique. “Ms du Luq,” Viggo exclaimed throwing his crossbow aside.

Traitor!

He sold them out, Ms Axel!

Ridley gasped when she saw what they meant. Viggo standing before some - not all - members of the Consortium, telling them all he knew about wolfen. He told them his father, Viggo Elliot Wolfensøn I, was a wolfen. Viggo even went as far as to tell them the legends about them from Viking and Saxon tribes. “I just come from the Order’s compound,” Viggo stated. “The hunter isn’t there.”

“Where is she,” Edwyn hissed.

“It couldn’t be hard to find her,” Tupac, the Aztec from Tenochtitlan, voiced. “If she is the Source, as Edwyn says then-”

“She is the Source,” Edwyn bellowed! He threw his sword across the court, decapitating him! “I have spent centuries plotting the creation of this new world! I have never been this close. Do any of you think I would dare bring information forward if I was not absolutely certain?”

The room was dead! The other members - an Egyptian, a Greek, and a Jordanian - were ripe with fear! Edwyn’s terror-inducing gaze scanned over each of them, daring any one of them to speak. Viggo, on the black tiled ground between the two curved tables, scanned them all too. Shivers ran down his spine at the magnitude!

“That is exactly our concern, Edwyn,” a woman’s voice answered. The room turned to Eudice of Ancient Greece. “We have never come this close before. We worry that you rush too much.”

“I see,” he replied. The grey man stood and rounded the table and crossed the floor where Viggo stood. He rounded the other table, passing the Mesopotamian, the Egyptian and Tupac’s bleeding body. “Thank you, Eudice. I am glad one of you was brave enough to speak up...” he tore her head clean off “... to make an example.” The court went silent! Eudice’s head was tossed to Viggo’s feet, splattering blood on his tailored suit. “Any insubordination, any at all...!” Edwyn scanned the remaining members. “This world will be mine! Not ours!”

Viggo swallowed hard and the square in his demeanor was shed, showing off the bubbling-over-pot of sheer worriment. Blood pooled at his feet of the tanned head of the woman who lived through the Trojan War. He took a meek step away but his footprints were left in red. Edwyn’s footfalls thundered in the muted hall, steadily, creepy. He sized up Viggo before circling him like a vulture.

“Why would we trust you, Wolfensøn? You were leeching this organisation for information to pass onto the du Luqs.”

“True, but that was before I found that my kind were still alive,” he argued. “There may be others. Dozens of colonies may be more. It’s not just wolves, Edwyn.” The leader of the Consortium paused from his circling to meet Viggo’s trembling lip. “Jackals, hyenas and foxes. More, even. There are many from anyone from the Yanomami and Kayapo in South America to the Māori and Aboriginals in the Continental Australia region, even the San and Zulu of Southern Africa. All of that information...” Instead of finishing, the Viking merely tapped his temple.

“Do tell,” Edwyn persisted.

Viggo took a second to muster courage to shake his head at Edwyn. “Y-you’ll kill me afterwards,” he stammered. “This is how I ensure you don’t.” Edwyn scoffed. “More than a thousand years alive, all I want is the restoration of my people. I will bring you the du Luqs, if you want them. The Source too.” In his words, Ridley could see he had wholeheartedly turned his back on the du Luqs’ cause.

“Do not abuse my magnanimity, Wolfensøn,” Edywn warned, holding his hand out to Viggo. Viggo swallowed hard before shaking his hand. “I task you with finding more of these beings. Gain their trust, kidnap them, I don’t care! Bring them to me!”

“Traitor!” Ridley punched him across the face, with her weaker hand which didn’t do much. Dominique shrieked then jumped back. “Where’s Tomás!”

“Ridley, he was protecting us!”

“He told the Consortium about Ankh! You took her!”

Viggo sighed but nodded. “I am sorry,” he began softly. “In all my centuries on the Earth, I have seen genocide upon genocide. Nothing as damning as the genocide of my kin. A genocide so heinous, the goldbloods erased it from history.”

“You’re a goldblood!”

“Yes, I am. I am also the son of Viggo Greyhide," Viggo stated. "He was what you would call an alpha. The greatest wolfen to walk this rock. He died among millions of our kind. I will give my people a second chance. If that means working in hand with the very people who exterminated them, so be it."

Dominique scoffed then slammed him. "We trusted you!"

"Enough talk," Ridley hissed.

She spun Dominique behind her. Ridley smote her dagger at him, nicking his cheek. Viggo wiped the gold blood on his fingers to examine. He shook his head. He grabbed Dominique and held his concealed knife into her neck. Ridley threw the dagger to his head. She pranced! She tackled them to the floor! Her hand grabbed the knife upon impact. Dominique sandwiched between them, squirmed endlessly.

Ridley rolled her aunt aside then punched the Viking endlessly with her weaker arm. Viggo grabbed her hand. His free fist punched her injured shoulder. She screamed. White flames exploded from her palms. Viggo gasped. He threw her aside with amazing strength. Ridley landed on her wounded arm. Dominique scrambled aside, grabbing a chair to hide behind. Viggo pinned Ridley to the ground.

Her fits of kicking were no match for then pressure he forced on her. "If it's any consolation," the man concluded while his free hand dug into his jacket's inner pocket. "Your wolfen friend gave me hope. I've lived so long I started to think they were just dreams."

Ridley turned to her family still as a statue. "Dominique..."

Viggo glanced over to her then tsked and shook his head. "That's what I admire about goldblood in this era, too scared to fight how they once did. She can't save you," he chuckled then held up a syringe. He stabbed her in the arm. "Nobody can. You're at Edwyn's mercy now."

"I'm going to rip your head off..." Ridley freed her hand with a weak white flame flickering. Her hand went numb and fell to the side as she barely whispered, "o-off your... your shoulders." She went limp.

The Danish man exhaled then turned to Dominque. She scampered to get away. "No, no," he called then grabbed her ankles. "Edwyn wants the entire family together." Dominique screamed but nobody came to her aid.