The Dragon's Blood (Part 49)
In which ancient enemies lurk....
49
He watched them from the shadows. He, the eldest, the most powerful and the one who led the flock in Manhattan and all the Americas. Wherever he passed those of the Blood swore fealty to him, worshiped him.
Yes, there were those who defied him, ancient ones almost as old as himself, leaders of their own flocks. There was a great one in Europe, one who'd gained notoriety through human literature. There was another that wandered in disguise, showcasing great wonders for the mortals, illuminating them with his supposed wisdom learned through the centuries. A third kept the great island of Japan as his temple and practically ruled the world of technology from that post.
These others falsely and quite arrogantly viewed him as their equal, but even they answered to his master, the one who lived below the island of Manhattan, named New Amsterdam when he'd made it his home and the source of his power.
The master would know that their ancient enemy dwelt in his tunnels at last. That he'd finally, after all these millenia, wandered into their clutches again. This could be no coincidence, not after the events of the last few years, these human tragedies that had seemed drawn to their home. At long last the final confrontation was at hand.
This time he would be certain. This time he would not only drink of his blood but tear his body limb from limb, feast on every inch of it, every muscle and every bone. The ancient enemy's scourge would then finally leave this world and all of Heaven and Earth would at last truly belong to their kind, to the chosen.
He watched as the enemy broke out from the steel prison the mortals used to travel below the earth, the fool leading a group of them bloodied and beaten but still breathing out into the darkness.
All about him he heard the calls from his children, saw them pointing at that little group. He watched as those finished with their own kills or waiting for the opportunity for one made for the escapees, their magnificent lust urging them on.
He called out to them, his children, halting them in their tracks, making it clear that these belonged to him. They did his beckoning, though some of them, the older ones of course, expressed their disappointment, their fangs flashing in the light cast by the subway train.
He turned to those beside him, his two greatest allies, his younger siblings, themselves rulers of human cities to the north and south.
“Assume the forms we use above the ground and we will join them,” he spoke in the old tongue to these, great leaders of his people, powerful below and even more so above. “This is the day we have waited for. Our master did not summon us here for a mere feast of the sheep. He sensed the ancient enemy entering his lair at last and he will not wish for him to escape his long held wrath when he is so close.”
“Our master is prepared to face him?” Veridiana Nairne dare asked him, her voice highly skeptical. “After all these centuries does he truly believe he can best him this time?”
This earned her a backhand slap, hard, powerful and without mercy.
“It is not for us to question him, Veridiana,” he admonished, growing to his full height, his fangs bared. “It is for us to lead the enemy to our master's door. He wishes for his nemesis to at last see what his actions have wrought.”
Veridiana did not back down, yes, she along with her younger brother Alexandre Carmichael followed their older brother's lead, but she remained defiant as she always had. She bared her own fangs but did not strike back and provoke a fight between the two of them. They had, all three of them, much to lose this night with the presence of their kinds' greatest enemy so very close.
“Now,” he continued. “Let us go, let us join the sheep in flight. We shall lead them to our master, leave the enemy for him to deal with and then feed on those he has deemed to protect.”
With that he changed into the form he used above ground, the one that ruled over the miserable mortal masses of the land they called New York city, and flew towards Stefan Blackmoon and his little band, his brother and his sister behind him.
End Part 48
If you find yourself interested in the whole damnedable thing and wanna throw me a few bucks, here's a link to it on Amazon.