Of Blood and Desire

I stirred my soup, watching Genevieve prattle on about something or the other. She was always talking, yet somehow never managed to say anything. It was easy to tune her out. I loved her dearly, of course, but disliked her all the same. It was just how sisterhood worked. My eyes met with Lucy’s across the table, and she shot me a rueful smile. My eldest sister, known to everyone else in the kingdom of Finnway as Princess Lucielle, was nervous. As fourth in line, I wasn’t told much, but I didn’t need a briefing; I wasn’t stupid. Something was bothering Lucy, and my father was being quiet as well. Normally, he at least entertained Geneieve’s antics. I stirred my soup again, curiously, having tuned out Genevieve entirely at that point. If I had to guess, Lucy was likely bothered by the terrible but necessary Collection: every month, we donated blood to placate the neighboring menace of a vampire. If not given willingly, he would steal blood, committing violent, disturbing acts in the process. The glutton vampire took blood from three of the neighboring human kingdoms as well. Overall, he had to recieve the blood of thousands in each Collection, but it was never enough, and the Collection continued on, month after month. We’d long since realized that he would never be satiated. Appeasing him was exhausting and pointless. In the past Collection, even I donated. His demand was to taste the blood of every person in each kingdom, and my father was desperate to appease. I didn’t understand; it was one vampire versus the armies of three kingdoms. Even a daunting creature of the night could not withstand fifty arrows to the heart. My gaze slid to the eldest of us all--my brother, the heir. Frederick, the third of Finnway, was better than my sister at hiding his emotions. While I could decode the furrowing of Lucy’s brows and match it to a certain feeling, his face was almost always blank. The mask of a ruler. It had to be exhausting to constantly wear. Him, I knew the least. Genevieve was almost always willing to volunteer information, and Lucy was humble and kind. Frederick? Nothing. I refocused on my dinner, unsettled by the unease in the air. It felt like it could be cut into. “I was working with my paints today and had the most wonderful idea for a portrait. Could we call back the royal artist? I would love to have lessons again,” Genevieve said loudly, then let out a sigh. “I didn’t manage to take much in during our last session.” I ignored her, and rolled my eyes at her wish. If only I’d known that this was last moment of normalcy. Maybe then, I might have had something to say. If not a response to her artistic endeavors, then a compliment, a final kindness. But I didn’t know; I couldn’t have known. And I was quiet. Only a few seconds later did the head of our royal guard crash through the banquet hall doors. We all stood in alarm, dinner, portraits, and the Collection forgotten. I immediately assumed the worst. A coup. An attack. Something I had been warned of my entire life. My eyes immediately went to the tunnel hidden behind the portrait of my great-grandfather, Frederick the First. A possibility. Before I made any movement, I looked back at my father, waiting for the signal to bolt. “What is the meaning of this?” the king demanded. He attempted to sound strong, but I could hear the tremble in his voice. “He’s coming,” the guard managed out. “You need to run, Your Highness. He’s coming. He’s inside the castle!” Who? I looked to Lucy in question, but she only stared on in horror. The other guards in the dining hall sprung into action, yelling, “Protect the Crown! Protect the king! Protect the heir!” One came to me, ushering me into a corner with the rest of my family. The head guard had crossed the room to begin detaching the portrait from the wall, allowing our escape, while the rest drew bows with blood oak arrows. I froze at the sight. Only blood oak arrow to the heart could kill a vampire. Why else draw that weapon, if not for a vampire coming for us? I wanted to stand strong and proud, but my legs shook. Could it be him? The one we Collected for? “Hurry, now!” the head guard screamed, pulling me out of my head. I looked to see the painting fully detached and leaning to the side. My father pushed Frederick forward first. “Let him through, then put the painting back up!” he demanded. “But--” the guard began, eyes wide as he glanced back at Genevieve, Lucy, and me. “Now!” my father screamed. I knew better than to feel betrayed. Of course, my father would want to fully ensure Frederick’s safety. Lucy seemed to understand as well. It was only Genevieve and a few guards who truly displayed their shock. “Father,” Genevieve murmured, eyes watering. A solid boom echoed outside of the hall, and screams followed. There was no time to address Genevieve’s distress. The head guard quickly covered the passageway before coming to stand in front of us with his own bow drawn. I glanced back at my great-grandfather. Maybe it was smart to seal the path. If we’d all tried to escape, maybe none of us would’ve made it. I knew that I couldn’t run in this dress, and neither could my sisters. My father was slow in his age, and, truthfully, wasn’t Frederick the only one who mattered? More screams, these directly outside the banquet doors. I inched closer to my sisters, grabbing both of their hands. Both trembled. “What has he come here for?” Genevieve whispered. “Our blood? Our crown? I don’t understand! We’ve given him everything he’s asked for, always, and--” “Quiet,” Lucy hissed, and, for once, Genevieve listened. A terrible silence filled the hall, and the lot of us went tense. For a moment, I dared to hope that the vampire had left. And then, suddenly, the doors crashed open as a mangled and bleeding body soared through, landing cleanly on our dining table. Plates clattered, smashing, our floral arrangement shattered. Genevieve screamed at the sight, and I shrank back in horror. The guards closed in on us, making it difficult to see. But I had seen enough. The man, if that was even what he was anymore, had been completely mutilated. His arm was ripped off, eyes removed, and he was completely disemboweled. His intestines were scrambled across the room. I couldn’t get the picture out of my head. “Fire!” I heard, and arrows released. Short as I was, even on the tips of my toes I couldn’t see if the arrows had hit their target. “Clara!” Lucy hissed, pulling me down to her. “What are you doing?” “Trying to get a better view,” I whispered back. She looked at me like I was absolutely insane, and maybe I was, but if I was going to be murdered, I wanted to know who was killing me. I deserved that, at least. “Again!” a guard yelled, and the men all loaded new arrows in sync. Again, they fired. All I heard in response was a sudden and deep laugh. “Tell them to stand down, or I will kill them all,” an icy voice spoke. The guards hesitated. I could see the tension in their shoulders, and though they’d sworn to protect us with their lives, they might have regretted that promise at the moment, especially after seeing what happened to their comrade on the table. “Stand down,” my father said with a sigh. The head guard swirled around. “But, sire--” My father pushed past him, striding out of our small circle of comfort, while I stared on, aghast. He was going to get himself killed! I instantly walked forward to follow, but Lucy and Genevieve pulled me back. “My Lord,” said my father in greeting. What? Even Lucy stiffened in surprise. We were in Finnway, our soil. A king never referred to another in such a way on their own land. Who could be the lord of a king? “King James,” the voice said, in a tone meant to mock his title. I listened closely. It was no voice I’d heard before, and I certainly would’ve recognized it. The deep, distinctly male baritone was powerful, seeming to easily echo around the entire chamber. “You didn’t need to harm my men,” my father said. “I only wanted to remind you of my abilities,” the man replied. “And of what you lack.” “I do not need such a reminder,” said my king stiffly. There was a moment of silence, and then another laugh. “Well, this is quite a greeting. Your men fired at me, King James. That was rude.” “As I said, you harmed my men. They were only protecting themselves.” “No.” The voice turned cold once again, all teasing gone. “I approached the gates. I was fired at first. I killed only those who sought to kill me. And here, still, these men have their bows raised.” I heard my father let out a heavy sigh. “Lower your weapons,” he said. Lucy, Genevieve, and I tensed, and I bit my lip. Hard. Our only form of protection, and he wanted it removed? I could understand wanting Frederick’s safety assured, but did his daughters really mean so little? “Sire--” the head guard protested. “Now,” he ordered, and there was another laugh from the intruder. The guards surrounding me and my sisters, slowly lowering their bows to their sides, but they didn’t move away. They stood, solid and tightly packed. These were Finnway’s elite guards, and they couldn’t surrender the Crown entirely, even to a monster. “Isn’t that better?” the voice said, coming closer. I inched backwards, into the wall. My hands, still connected to my sisters, pulled them back with me, and we huddled together, compact. “Why are you here?” my father demanded. All pleasantries were gone, the begrudging respect forcing a king to say "my lord", eliminated. “The Collection,” said the man simply. “We gave our share this month.” For the first time in quite a while, my father sounded genuinely confused. “I am aware. I thoroughly enjoyed the stock.” There were a few beats of silence, the only sound I could hear being the beating of my heart. “I am glad that you enjoyed our offering, but, if pleased, why are you here?” my king said again. “As you know, I have a very specific… palette. I haven’t been happy with my meals for quite some time now, until this Collection.” “I’m quite happy that you enjoyed it,” reiterated my father. A sigh. “You still don’t understand, do you, king?” The voice, the man... he was coming closer. Genevieve buried her head into the crook of my neck, and I rested my hand on her hair, lightly stroking it. “I want the blood.” “We have given it to you.” The man paused. “You have children, do you not?” he asked suddenly. “Is that them, in the corner?” Genevieve shook against me, and Lucy looked at the two of us with tears in her eyes. “There’s no need to involve them,” my father said. “I will give you what you want.” “Tell your guards to move aside,” the man replied. “My Lord, please.” “Now.” A cruel, one-syllable word. Another silence, this one briefer. “Step aside,” I heard my father finally say quietly. Genevieve let out a gasp and a cry, hugging the two of us as the guards slipped to the sides of the room. Their hands remained on the bows at their sides, well-muscled arms ready to fire at the surest sign of danger, regardless of their king’s order. Still, I didn’t feel safe, not with my vision opening and the sight of the man on the table reappearing. With a shuddering breath, I looked away from the gore, focusing first on my father and then at the vampire in front of him. I gasped lightly at the sight. He looked like the statues we had in the gardens, perfect with pale proportions. I’d never seen a vampire before, but no wonder they were so dangerous. Forget their incredible speed and strength, and not to mention compulsion, but everything about them was inviting. If this man simply asked, I had the feeling that I would walk over and offer up my neck. His red eyes flickered over my sisters and I, a smirk resting on his beautiful and cruel face. Black hair fell over his eyes, making him seem youthful and a little less dangerous. In earnest, he looked only a few years older than myself, maybe around Frederick’s age, though he could be centuries old. There was no way to tell with immortal creatures. He was tall, towering over my father, with veins that protruded on his solid forearms--veins I doubted had blood following through them. Still, they were hard and stuck out, matching his muscular and lean build and making me suddenly curious as to what the rest of him looked like. I shook my head and refocused, narrowing in on the vampire’s stance. He reminded me of the cave cats I’d heard of in the jungles in the south--powerful, prowling, ready to strike. Just looking at this man, this vampire, I knew that he could take one of those cats down with ease and would rise without a scratch. Or, if he did have a wound, in moments he would be as good as new. His kind healed fast and were virtually indestructible. And here one stood, so dangerous that my father called him lord, one so arrogant he marched into a palace full of guards. It wasn’t until then that I noticed Genevieve had stopped shaking. I looked at her, seeing she was staring right at the intruder herself, awe in her eyes. All fear was gone. She should be terrified, but I wasn’t going to be the one to remind her. We could die any moment now, and I’d rather my sister die with a smile than a scream. The vampire, well-dressed in silk garments that rivaled the clothing Frederick was given, stepped closer to the three of us. He beckoned one pale hand, long articulate fingers offered in our direction. He smiled. Brilliantly. “Would one of you come here?” he asked. Genevieve immediately stepped forward. I went to grab her back, but Lucy was walking towards the creature as well. It took nearly all of my strength to pull Lucy back to the wall, the force of which startled her out of whatever spell the vampire had her under. She blinked at me, first confused, then alarmed as she realized what had nearly happened. Genevieve extended her hand to him with a blush, and their fingers connected. “You are quite beautiful,” the vampire remarked, looking down at my sister. “Please,” my father murmured. “Leave them out of this. Just tell me what it is you want. More blood? We can give you that. We can give you it as often as you'd like!” “The people grow exhausted,” Lucy spoke beside me. Her voice shook, but the more she said, the stronger her composure became. “Children are giving their blood to the Collection. We give you gallons--all that we have. Father, we cannot afford more.” “Lucy!” my father snapped, while the vampire watched on with detached interest. He grasped Genevieve’s hand as his arm came to loop around her waist. He briefly looked away from my father to instead lean down and inhale Genevieve's scent. A small smile formed on his face. An arrow fired. I watched with wide eyes as it zoomed towards the unsuspecting vampire, and for a moment I thought it would connect and that the nightmare would be over, but the creature merely plucked it out of midair. He stared at it in disdain, then glanced back at my father. “You see?” he said. “They fire first.” In a blink, the vampire was across the room and stuck his hand through the chest of the guard who fired. I gasped as he pulled out a heart, still-beating in the vampire’s hand. The guard fell dead, while the creature tilted his head at the organ. He brought it to his mouth and licked the side of it, only to pucker his lips a moment later and drop the heart to the ground. “They taste terrible!” he announced with a growl, spinning and blurring himself a foot away from my father. The guards tensed but didn’t move. Genevieve, coming to her senses after witnessing a murder, quietly whimpered and began to return to Lucy and me. “I’m sorry about that,” my father said slowly. His face was devoid of color, pale. “He shouldn’t have fired, and I did not order that.” My father said that second part loudly, looking around to the other guards with wide eyes. “He shouldn’t have fired.” “That isn’t why I’m aggravated,” the vampire said. His lips twisted in the beginnings of a snarl, but he reined himself back a moment later, bringing his bloody hand to his temple with a sigh. He massaged it for a moment, only serving to lather blood on himself. “This is my point,” he finally said, his hand dropping. “I have a specific palette. That is why I wanted the Collection, so I could find a meal that I could enjoy.” My father nodded slowly. “Do you know what it’s like,” said the vampire, sighing, “to live for centuries, eating people that taste like utter garbage? It is infuriating.” He threw his hands up, a twisted grin arising on his face. “It makes a man violent. King James, it makes a man want to kill. Do you understand?” “Yes, I understand,” my father said. “This last Collection,” the murderer went on to say as he walked to wipe his bloody hands on the table cloth, “I finally tasted blood that I enjoyed.” He paused, spinning with exuberance. “No--enjoyed, no, that does it no justice. It was…” The vampire strode forward, thoughtful, a peacefulness in his eyes. “Incredible,” he finally decided, though he soon frowned, as though even that word didn’t suit it well enough. We all watched on, unsure as to where this was all going. “I want the human whose blood I tasted,” the vampire said. “Give me that, and I will leave. The Collection will end indefinitely.” Shocked, my father slowly said, “This isn’t an attack…?” “Gracious, no,” he said with a sinister smile. “Not unless you want it to be, King James. Just give me the human.” “Which… human?” asked my king. The vampire stared at him. “They’re your people. You tell me who gave the blood.” He frowned, and then murmured, “Shall I take a tour of the kingdom to find the proper smell?" “There’s no need for that,” Lucy said. My father shot her a glare that she ignored. She strode away from Genevieve and I, also ignoring our looks. “I work with two advisors who oversee the Collection with me. We work with the census administrators and have a detailed list of everyone who donates.” He looked at my sister, grinning. “And who might you be?” He glanced at my father. “Quite a helpful girl.” “My name is Princess Lucielle,” said Lucy. She paused, a tenseness entering her voice. “Please, just stop hurting people. We’ll give you what we want.” “But of course,” the vampire said. My sister bit her lip and glanced at my father before taking a few steps forward. She had her hands clasped behind her back, which I could see were shaking. “Do you know… the gender? Could you tell anything from the blood?” “It was someone young,” he said after some thought, “but not a child. The blood was not contaminated either--no drugs, no alcohol or disease. Pure.” Lucy thought about that for a moment and then, with great hesitation, said, “It may take some time to find who this was.” “No,” he snapped. “I want the human now. You will take me to every person who participated in this month’s Collection. With one smell, I will know if it is the right individual.” “Citizens won’t take kindly to a vampire,” my father said. “And if they discover that you’re the one responsible for the Collection... they might act out.” “How is this of my concern?” replied the vampire. “I don’t want any more death,” said my father. “If we do this, it should be discreet.” “We’ll do it my way, or I will kill you all and find them myself,” he replied. The guards tensed at that. I was tense as well, terrified, and I suddenly feared for my sister standing so close to the creature. Without realizing it, my feet were moving forward. I extended my hand, connecting it with Lucy’s forearm, who jumped slightly at the contact. She stared at me with wide eyes as I attempted to usher her back. We hardly moved an inch before the vampire was in front of us, eyes narrowed into slits. “Wait,” he demanded, glancing between the two of us. “Princess Lucielle, come here a moment.” My sister hesitated at the command, and the vampire grabbed her, forcing her out of my hold and in front of him. He leaned down to smell her, moving her away a moment later. His eyes turned to me. “You,” he said. I stared back, having to look up to do so, my green eyes meeting his red. For some reason, all fear left my body right then. The entire room disappeared, and it was just him and me. It was an odd sensation that left my legs a little numb, and I could feel myself starting to sway. Our gaze broke as he moved to study me up and down, granting me temporary relief, and I almost gasped. Was that what overcame Genevieve minutes ago, making her willing to stand so close to him? “It’s her,” he announced finally, tearing his eyes from me with what seemed like great reluctance. He stared hard at my father. “That one.” He blinked. “That is my daughter,” he said. “So she was,” said the vampire. “And now she is mine.” “No,” my father said, though slowly and with uncertainty. He was looking at me as though he wasn’t seeing me quite clearly. I knew that faraway look. I hadn’t seen it since Mother got sick, but here it was again. Saying good-bye, accepting fate. My heart raced. “Must I need to remind you of what will happen if you deny me this?” the vampire said. My father’s face told me everything I needed to know. I was not Frederick; he would not fight for me. As I realized this, I looked first at Genevieve and then at Lucy. They looked back as if they couldn’t quite believe it themselves, surprise and devastated but more resigned than enraged or empowered to act. I couldn’t blame them, truly. If it had been one of them that this creature picked, what could I do? Nothing but get myself killed fighting him, damning my entire kingdom in the process. “Clara,” my father said thickly, and I shut my eyes. I knew that he would follow this with a grand statement that he’d never follow through on. Clara, I’ll save you. Clara, we’ll come for you. Clara, don’t give up. I didn’t want to hear it. Thankfully, the vampire saved me the trouble. “Clara!” he said, turning to give me an amused look. “A wonderful name for a wonderful girl.” He stepped closer, reaching a bloody hand out for my cheek, and I was too stunned to flinch back. “And you do taste so wonderful, Clara.” My lips parted, and for a moment I even had myself convinced I was going to talk, but no words came. I stared into his eyes, a flush of emotions overwhelming me. I was furious, I was terrified. I was desperate. “I--” I started to say, but I was trembling so hard that my lips began to lightly chatter, and I quickly shut my mouth, embarrassed. The vampire smiled at me almost kindly, as if watching a pet do a trick. His hand fell from my face, and he took a step back. “Come with me now, Clara,” he said. A command. It didn’t sound like an order the way it fell from his lips, but an order it was all the same. I looked back at my family one last time and thought of Frederick. The last time I’d seen him, I hadn’t even thought about it being so. Though he was running away, escaping, possibly leaving the rest of us to die, I thought I’d see him again, maybe just in the next life. But I would not. I shut my eyes before raising them to the hand that the vampire extended in my direction. My fate. It laid with him now. Without further hesitation, I took his hand, and we strode forward.