Blood & Roses: Warriors of the Krieger (2 page)

We’re no longer allowed to hunt back alleys
or prey on innocent humans for blood. (Insert evil laugh here!) In
fact, I couldn’t tell you the last time I used mind control on a
human. We just go down to the local Red Cross and pick from the
buffet of donors. Easy as pie! Well, not quite pie, which would be
awesome to have just a slice. Hmm, pie! Damn it! You would think
after all these years I would have outgrown my cravings for human
food. Nope, still crave it and can’t eat it. I tried a few times,
but it only made me sick. I’m not going to go into details about
it, because it’s gross. Leave it at that.

Finally our turn for breakfast, Lydia
followed me into the receiving room. Donors were sectioned off by
blood type. Each one a different flavor, like Baskin Robbins, but
there was only eight flavors here; raging from the most common, O
positive, to the rarest, AB negative. The rarer the blood type, the
better the flavor. Of course, as with a fine wine, quality
cost.

We prepay for access to the clinic. Lydia and
I fork out about $2000 a month each, for a live B positive donor.
We can acquire bagged blood to keep at home for an additional fee.
A case of blood will run you about $300 for a thirty day supply. It
will do in a pinch, but it’s nothing like the real thing. I keep
some stored in the refrigerator for emergencies. Usually Lydia and
I split a box and it last us a couple of months.

She elbowed me in my side to get my
attention. I followed her eyes and found the most luscious donor in
the room. Not just because of his tasty blood, but for his
absolutely gorgeous body. Of course, I have never tasted him.
Because she always gets him first, but Lydia swears he taste better
than any human she has ever had. Lydia was infatuated with the dark
haired human. I watched her literally drift over to his chair. I
mean, rise up about six inches and float! One of these days, I
would learn to do something like that.

His name was Kyle and man was he hot! Jet
black hair hung down just past his brows; not quite covering those
dreamy emerald green eyes. Soft tan skin covered washboard abs and
finely tuned biceps; every woman’s dream. He looked up as Lydia
approached. Kyle’s smile was earth shattering. He rose from his
chair and hugged Lydia lightly.

While Lydia drooled all over Kyle, I searched
for my favorite donor.

Robbie was a college student who used his
money, from being a donor, to put himself through medical school.
Donors were paid well and Robbie used that to his advantage.

“Good Morning, Ms. Harwood.” Robbie was a
polite, soft spoken and very handsome doctor-to-be.

“Please Robbie, I’ve told you many times to
call me Charity,” I demanded, politely of course. Man, he looked
good tonight. Faded jeans, a green hospital scrub for a top and a
gold pinkie ring on his left hand. He had short brown hair and
amazing blue eyes. Robbie was also gay. I don’t care, he’s still
hot!

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckled. I pulled up a stool
and sat right in front of him. He leaned forward and tilted his
head to the right, offering me his left side. The vein in his neck
throbbed in anticipation and my need spiked. I placed a quick kiss
on his cheek, as a sign of respect, and then bit deeply into the
yummy source in his neck.

Bless his little heart, Robbie ate apple pie
today. Oh man, he was getting a big tip tonight. Blood taste like,
well blood, but with an undertone of what the donor consumed a few
hours before coming to the clinic. They were not allowed to eat a
high concentration of garlic, because that would be bad for
vampires. Someone invented a little machine that takes blood from
the donor to check for the amount of garlic in their system. That
makes the newer vampires a lot less nervous. Us older ones have
learned to detect if the human has garlic in their system. We can
smell it. Too much garlic intake will throw a vampire into the
equivalent of anaphylactic shock to a human. But not pie!

I let out a small chuckle and Robbie patted
my hand. He laughed too and sighed, “I remembered, Charity,” he
said proudly.

I released him and washed my tongue over the
puncture wounds to heal them. “Thank you, you didn’t need to do
that.” I pinned him with a stare, but laughed. There was no way I
could be mad at him.

“Oh, it’s okay. I wanted to indulge myself
tonight, for the both of us,” he blushed. How cute! Too bad he
didn’t play for my team. A girl can’t catch a break!

Lydia peaked over my shoulder impatiently.
“You ready?” she asked.

“Goodbye Robbie. See you next time,” I said,
standing up from the padded stool, but not before I slipped him a
hundred dollar bill. He blew me a kiss and like that, it was over;
so much easier than all those years of hunting down humans.

We arrived at our club, Nights, just a few
minutes before opening. Lydia and I parked in our private spots at
the back door to the club. I selfishly installed plaques over the
spots, mine read OWNER, and hers read MANAGER, just because I
could. I recently installed security lighting in the alley behind
the building. Lycanthropes have been seen in the area and tensions
in Port Royal were high. They were known to attack in the city as
well as out in the suburbs. As scary as that sounds, we had our own
protectors.

Krieger
are vampire warriors. They are
our police force. Most
Krieger
are very old and very
powerful. Imagine bulky, medieval fighters walking around modern
day looking like professional wrestlers, but much larger. Yum!

The
Krieger
have been around for
thousands of years. Up until eight years ago, they were silent
protectors. Now they are in the same ranks as human police and
military, patrolling beside their mortal counterparts. Human
authorities rely on the
Krieger
to keep our kind in
check.

I set the alarm on my beautiful baby and
followed Lydia through the back door.

Waitresses were milling around the storage
room, preparing for tonight. It was Tuesday; our busiest night of
the week. The bartenders carried cases of booze from the locker to
stock the two bars we had. Vampires can drink alcohol, but of
course cannot eat. Trust me; I tried a slice of apple pie once.
Even though Lydia warned me, and as I said before, I was sick for
days.

My overhead costs are low and my profit high;
no need for the health department to stop by and check the food
either. Plus, not many of us can stand the smell of human food. So
it’s a win-win situation.

I take pride in my business; everyone knows
and respects that. Fights and humans are not tolerated. Other clubs
who allow humans are filthy, sex driven disasters waiting to
happen. Horny vampires and intoxicated humans don’t mix. Violence,
rape and drug use are the main attractions; when that happens, bars
get shut down and the owners pay such hefty fines, they can no
longer operate.

Doors opened right on queue; exactly eight
o’clock. The staff were in position and I plopped myself at the
bar, Lydia on my right. Jackson, the bartender at the East bar,
slid us over two Jack and Cokes. I glanced at Thomas, at the West
bar, and he nodded.

We had just swiveled around to watch the
incoming patrons when Lydia sucked in a deep breath. I knew that
sound like I knew the whisper of my own voice. She had spotted a
good looking man. I lifted my eyes, searching for the reason for
her infatuation and froze.

“Bloody hell!” I gasped.

“No kidding,” she sighed. “Would you look at
that?”

Dragus

“Dragus,” Ashby paused as he walked into my
office. “We have reports that Adam Castillo was seen in that
vampire club called Nights, down by the river.”

“Gather everyone up and we will go talk to
the owner.” The vampire in question had been reported as a
Lycanthrope attack victim. We’d been following his trail of victims
over the past week, seven deaths, three humans and four vampires.
All were drained of blood and most of their flesh had been eaten;
typical of a vampire-werewolf hybrid attack.

I grabbed my cell phone, keys to the Hummer
and a picture of the suspect, placing it in my back pocket. Ashby
gathered Rowland and the twins, Powle and Bastian; they were
waiting for me in the front lobby.

“While I talk to the owner, I want you to
question the employees. Get anything you can from them. Afterward,
we will patrol the area.” It was my job as Head
Krieger
for
Port Royal, to command the troops.

I had been commissioned to this job about two
years ago. Before that I was Head
Krieger
in Valencia, Spain
for twenty years. The queen had personally requested that I be
transferred to Port Royal.

The United States was starting to have a
larger amount of our kind moving to the country. Their tax laws
were a little more lenient than other countries. The government
here even set up blood donor areas at their local Red Cross
centers. Due to the amount of new vampire citizens, more
Krieger
were needed to police their cities.

“Alright, let’s go,” Rowland laughed. “I’m
completely bored.”

They followed me out into the parking lot.
The government issued Hummer sat in the first spot by the door. The
night was eerily quiet and quite cold. Just a few days into the new
year and we had our hands full.

There were five of us, with more recruits in
training. With all of this activity, I needed more men. At this
point, we were stretched thin. There was almost no down time
between calls about these damn Lycans.

It has been about a hundred years or so since
I dealt with Lycanthrope attacks. In Russia, I had organized a
group to extinguish a small attack on the vampire community. It
took only a few months to eradicate and destroy all of them. Now it
looks like we may be dealing with another round. Our objective was
to destroy anyone and anything related to them. They’re considered
dangerous and unstable. This was something we needed to keep out of
the public eye. If the humans saw how Lycans actually behaved, then
God only knows how they would react. We could be looking at an
all-out apocalypse. Trigger happy humans would kill anyone who
looked even remotely like a vampire or a slathering hybrid. Hell,
some humans could pass for the latter.

Lycanthrope venom was what changed a human
into a werewolf, but to a vampire it was something different. One
bite changed our kind into a weird hybrid; half vampire, half
werewolf. Since not much was known about them, our objective was to
destroy them.

We pulled into the parking lot of Nights a
few minutes after they opened. Just a couple of blocks from the
river, this restored warehouse held one of the most exclusive night
clubs in town. The owner was said to be a woman named Charity
Harwood. She and her friend Lydia Duncan opened the club about six
years ago. From the information I have, the club has never had any
problems, which is a welcome sight. It gets old trying to keep
these places in line, so they don’t end up vampire whore
houses.

I noticed the parking lot was well lit and
there were two security guards patrolling the area. For that I had
to give this woman credit. She was prepared.

The other
Krieger
followed me to the
entrance. I flashed my badge to the attendant at the door. He
pulled back a red velvet rope and ushered us inside. I heard music
coming from the main floor of the club. It was something upbeat and
modern, nothing like the music of my youth. There were only about
twenty patrons inside when we stepped out of the hallway.

I stopped a passing waitress. The name badge
she was wearing said her name was Abby.

“Excuse me, miss. I’m looking for Ms. Charity
Harwood. Do you know where I could find her?” The poor girl looked
at me like I was a giant. I didn’t mean to scare the child.
Obviously she had never seen a
Krieger
up close. I sensed
she wasn’t too far out of her transition, maybe just a few years.
Her big green eyes lit up as she smiled.

Her hand was a little shaky as she held it up
to point toward her boss, “She is the blonde woman sitting at the
bar. Right over there, sir.”

I turned my head following her directions and
saw the woman in question. And I froze. Quickly I gave myself a
mental shake and marched forward. I felt a weird sizzle to the air
as our eyes met.

I knew this woman.

Charity

They came in like royalty. Five
Krieger
drifted through the main entrance and slowed,
looking around for someone. At the head of the group stood a
vampire warrior, he was freaking
huge
. Six foot six of shear
ass kicking brute force, shoulders as wide as a dump truck and the
face of a Greek God. He had a strong chiseled jaw and perfectly
high cheek bones. Long black hair pulled neatly into a pony tail
showing off his warrior tattoo – a black dragon – on his pale neck,
brilliant blue eyes, leather pants and an issued black t-shirt,
showing his affiliation as a
Krieger
. His name was stitched
across the left breast pocket. It read, Dragus.

And I knew him.

My hands began to tremble. Our eyes locked
and I felt a weird tingling in my hands, as if I had to reach out
for him. I gasped a few times when I realized who he was. Not that
I had met him before, but I knew him from a dream. A few months
before I had been attacked, I would have the same dream night after
night.

In my dream, the town rumored that a warrior
was trying to find me. In the beginning, I was scared, not knowing
what I had done to have the warrior after me. It confused me that
he would only search for me in the night, when everyone would be
asleep. I would hide behind the old farmer’s barn, but in every
dream he would find me. Just before I would wake up, the warrior
would say, “I’ve been searching for you for a very long time.” And
that was it. I would wake up confused, but after a while I was no
longer scared. The dreams became such a part of my life, I felt
like the warrior was mine. He was never mean to me; he just seemed
relieved that he had found me.