Writing Fiction a novel - Exclusive for Steemit - Diamonds and Deviants 22

Diamonds and Deviants

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This picture my own - others from Google Free to use images

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21,

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“Ah, now, was that all you were told or did you leave before the seminar had finished? You seem to be an impulsive kinda guy to me.”

“Well… It was important that I got here before you did, so I was told to get here as soon as possible and keep you here for as long as I could…” he realised that he was answering her questions and he shouldn’t have been.

“Yeah, fair enough. Go on then, take your best shot, sucker,” she said. She stepped back half a pace and offered her neck to him. He was seriously confused by her questioning but he finally persuaded himself that she must be glamoured now because she’d offered herself to him and all.

“You’re quite a new one, aren’t you?” She asked that just as he was about to bite her neck and she put him off.

“What? Yes! I’m new but I know what I’m doing, just shut up.”

“Yes, ok, I’ll… shut… up.”

He went in to bite her again and she seemed to come back out of the glamour, this wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.

“You see, I’m supposed to be killing these warlocks, they’re quite important to your lot… so if you don’t mind, I’d like to get on with it, so please, just get it done and we can move forward, ok?”

He was angry and he lunged at her neck. His mouth closed around her throat and then an indescribable agony tore through his lower face. He retreated and clapped his hands to his bloody mouth.

“Yeah, I can tell that you’re new, look,” she swiped some of his own blood from his chin and showed it to him. “It’s still red. If you were an older vampire, that would be darker. If you were really ancient and therefore, really important, it would be black, but it’s not. You’re an easy kill!”

She reached past him into the kitchen and pushed him before her as she went. She grasped hold of a wooden spoon and slammed it right through his heart.

She opened the curtains and placed his crumbling body in just the right position for the sunlight to finish him off in a few hours' time.

The warlock was just beginning to come round when she got back to him.

“Now, I don’t have time for any lies, so you either tell me the truth or you’ll join him in the next world.”

The warlock looked at her and realised that he was clear-headed for the first time in ages. He instantly understood what had happened to him and was angry.

“What do you need to know?”

“Why are the warlocks helping the vampires?”

“Pure greed. We want a stash of money behind us to help with our research.”

“Is one of the criteria that the vampires don’t make any new ones?”

“Well, yes, we stipulated that they don’t make new vampires, we’re just protecting the ancients.”

“No you’re not, look at that one, I staked him with a wooden spoon for god’s sake, how new must he have been?”

“They’ve broken the terms, I must get the word to our leader.”

“Which is…?”

“Pietrov. He’s the oldest now since Brecon was lost.”

Celtica nodded. “Yeah, forget that, get yourself away from here. Tell no-one that you’re going and believe me, it’s not for my benefit that I’m giving you this advice. Make yourself lost or you’ll get yourself dead.”

She didn’t wait to see whether he took her advice or not, she didn’t care. The next one on her list was not worth the effort, they’d had enough time to get a more proficient vampire to guard him, one with a much better idea on how a vampire was supposed to work, so she skipped that one and the next couple too. The one next to the top of her list was the one that would seriously put the cat among the pigeons.

This warlock was less likely to be glamoured than the rest of the minions. He was second in line for supremacy and if Pietrov didn’t have his backing, she doubted that the scheme would be going ahead right now. Pietrov was certainly no Brecon, so he’d need as much backing power as he could muster.