Page 12 of Queen Takes Blood
I’d killed a thousand and more before him.
I no longer served the dead queen. She could no longer compel me to kill in her name. But if I chose to kill this human, there was absolutely nothing that he could do to prevent it.
“Wh—what are you?”
Lowering the dagger, I smiled, watching the way the blood drained from his face. “Just a collector determined to uphold a bargain made in good faith.” I turned my head, keeping the pleasant smile for the businessman. “Will you keep your word? Or will you die? Your choice.”
Pale, he blinked rapidly, no doubt running through his options. In the distance, a police siren warbled through the night. That seemed to assist his decision-making process. “Fine.”
I blurred again, snagging the money briefcase and holding it out to him. “Very good. I did include a five-thousand-dollar bonus for a smooth transaction.”
Sweat trickled down his face and his hand trembled as he reached out to accept the case. I set the dagger back into its display and tucked the larger case into my trunk before they even moved. “Excellent doing business with you.”
7
GUILLAUME
Idrove west out of Indianapolis with no set destination in mind. Driving into the night, blissfully alone. The roar of the engine wasn’t as good as horse hooves pounding in a steady gallop, but delightful just the same. I couldn’t shift into my hell horse now anyway. I was too weak.
After centuries of service to the most powerful Triune queen, I relished my years of freedom, even as I slowly withered away without her power to sustain me. I’d lasted decades longer without a queen than I’d expected, though it’d taken all my skills to evade capture until I could escape Europe.
Every Aima queen had been setting nets to ensnare me, but especially Marne Ceresa, queen of Rome. She and my former dead queen had been rivals for centuries. Naturally she thought to bring the Executioner to her side to further her position.
Here in America, as long as I avoided the coasts, I had been safe enough. The queen of New York City didn’t know that I was here. The queen of San Fransisco had disbanded her court and retired back to China. Supposedly there was another queen in New Orleans and possibly another in Mexico. Easy enough places to avoid with plenty of land to roam in between.
My existence had narrowed to my collection. Driving to expand my collection. Dozing while I waited for a new item to hit the market that I wanted for my collection. There was nothing else to do to pass the time, and I’d never been allowed to sleep during centuries of service.
Blood had no need to sleep. We were powered by our queen’s blood alone. Without a queen to feed me, I was a shell of the formidable Blood that I had once been. Sleep came easily to me now, though I always kept some part of my senses alert. I’d even started paying for my room weeks at a time, just to enjoy uninterrupted rest.
Fucking human, calling me an old man.
Though he was right. The burst of speed that I’d used to demonstrate my ability had drained my reserves. Fucking worth it. No question.
The one blade that I had feared to never add to my collection now laid across my thighs as I drove. My collection was complete.
It’s time for me to die.
Soon enough, I’d be too weak to drive. If I couldn’t move my location, then eventually, I’d be found. A queen would manage to track me down. She’d pry my dead, cold lips apart and force her blood down my throat, bringing me back to life. Chaining me to her side for another eternity. I had no one to trust who could dispose of my body in fire, and even then, I wasn’t entirely sure that a queen couldn’t call me back.
I was the headless knight. I could not be killed.
My heart pounded an uneven beat, pushing sluggish blood through shriveled veins. Swollen and twisted beyond repair, my damaged fingers clutched the steering wheel. I had to find a way to die before that could happen, even if that meant walking into an inferno and hoping for the best.
I pulled off the road on the Missouri side of the Mississippi River. Another cheap hotel, paid in cash for a month. Just in case I dozed for a few weeks. I didn’t unpack much. My favorite blades. Mineral oil. An old shirt to polish the blades. My cleaning kit to see if I could restore my Templar sword to its former glory.
But first, the sunrise. I loved to watch the night sky give way to day. A joke, perhaps, a nod to the legendary vampires of yore who burst into flame with the first touch of light. If only that were possible. My infernal existence would finally be at an end.
Leaning against the hood of the Mustang, I faced the east. City lights dimmed the stars, but there were still a few diamonds sprinkled across the dark velvet sky. With the river below and the bridge arching across, I waited for the sun’s first rays to break the horizon.
My nape prickled. The hell horse’s ears would have been twitching back and forth, straining to hear a threat. I didn’t turn my head but opened my senses. Breathed deeply. Nothing approached, at least nothing that I could sense. But the prickle increased.
An itch spread down my spine. Burning my skin. Every scar. Lit up. The ragged loop around my neck. The sword marks. Arrow and spear punctures. Bites. Slices from furious claws as I hacked another head for my queen. Burning irons pressed to the soles of my feet. The rack tearing my joints apart. The sledgehammer breaking my fingers. Every bone in my body.
Panting, I turned my head. There. To the west. The sky glowed red like a forge.
A fucking queen. Calling.Me.
Blistering fire washed over me and then drained away, leaving me shaking, my skin steaming in the chill air. Squeezing my hands into fists despite my throbbing, painful fingers, I gritted out, “I will not be compelled.”
