Misty
I don’t have a sister
—
I was an orphan. I don’t believe in Vampires. They are myths that make interesting movies.
Say this three times, and three women find out that what they have believed in all their lives is wrong. They do have sisters, and there are Vampires.
Among the Vampires are those who just want their blood, because it is better than normal mortal blood. But there is also a special connection for each sister with three male Vampires who want more than just blood.
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Misty
Copyright © 2013
M. Garnet
ISBN: 978-1-77111-439-4
Cover art by Carmen Waters
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
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Misty
Blood Sisters 1
By
M. Garnet
Dedicated to three special gal friends, so it only seems natural that I write three stories about three women and their loves, no matter how strange love might be.
Since I started these stories some time ago, I had dedicated them to three friends, since there are three sisters in these stories. But we have lost one of our friends, so hopefully she is still enjoying my follies, as she watches over my shoulder.
Prologue
There were five of them. They tried to dress as casually as possible so that they would not draw attention. Still they did, three males and two females who were way too good looking, built like TV wrestlers. Of course they would just draw attention.
One of them had received a call from a local blood bank and now they were waiting nearby. It would be closing soon. Their contact was going to be the last one on duty to shut down for the night. That was their chance to get in and buy what they needed.
They were all trying to avoid taking the blood they needed from humans. It was possible to take blood from humans without killing them, but there was a certain faction who were trying to change and avoid the contact completely. This group was part of that movement. Three of them had been able to live off the blood from blood banks, morgues and animals for years. Two of them were new to this and were still fighting what they had become, but they were trying to resist their urges with the help of the older experienced Vamps.
They stayed in the shadows, splitting up to prevent bringing attention to the gang. Two were in an old car they had parked a few feet away. The others were around in dark doorways or alleys. Finally the lights in the blood bank were turned down to the nightlights only and the front door locked. Their contact would be at the back door.
They slowly made their way to the back alley. The rear door was opened, allowing them entrance to the clinic. They gave cash to the contact and he went forward, starting to pull out bags of blood, putting them into a box. He needed to be careful to pick items that would not be missed.
When the clerk handed over the open box, the male who accepted it started to turn but hesitated. He seemed to freeze up just looking into the box. His nostrils flared as if he’d scented something. Instead of going to the door with the box he set the box down and reached in for one of the bags. A brother tapped him on the shoulder to question him, but by this time he had the bag to his mouth and he had ripped it open with a fang.
Several things occurred at once. The contact screamed when he saw the male turn into what looked like an animal as blood spurted from the bag. The clerk turned to run to the front of the clinic. Up to this point, the mortal had no idea who or what he was selling the blood to and didn’t care why. It was just easy money and what they did with it was not his concern. After all, he wasn’t selling drugs, so it wasn’t that bad, right? But there was something wrong with these people now. They must be on drugs or crazy dope.
The others all got an instant reaction from the smell of the blood. The bag was splashed around as they all first reached, then began to tear into each other to get to the blood. The strength of these Vamps had them throwing each other the length of the room and through one of the walls. A human was hit by one of the bloody males, causing both to sail through the front glass window. Unfortunately, the human died on impact.
A Vamp got up and went back into the clinic, picked up a wooden leg from a broken chair, and attacked an injured Vamp who was on the floor trying to get to the plastic bag. He drove the leg through the chest and heart of the crawling Vamp and the Vamp gasped. The wood in the right spot turned his body to dust, his clothes collapsing in a heap. The stories in the books were right. Wood could destroy a Vampire.
There was a loud siren as the alarm of the building was sounding, but the Vamps did not seem to hear anything as they fought each other. None of them got any of the blood except for the smell. They were so intent on preventing each other from obtaining any of it that no one got a taste. The strange macabre dance of the fighters drifted into the alley as fewer and fewer of the group remained upright. The final male had enough sense to leave the area as some intelligence penetrated him, probably aware that the police were approaching.
At last the police came and the reports began to drift in, including to a very special group who listened for unusual nighttime activity.
This group sent out some special inspectors to investigate, and the news was not good. It took two days to clean up the mess and wipe the minds of some good cops. It took another week to chase the last male that was running from the mess, and he had to be eliminated. But first he told of the beautiful blood he had smelled that had driven them all into the frenzy.
Chapter One
Rad entered the lobby of the tall office building, sitting among other buildings built since the last war in Rome. Most of the newer buildings were all glass and steel girders, allowing the sun to glow off their skins or to reflect each other as if each was preening to see the beauty of the other. These newer buildings were not permitted in certain areas of the city to protect the archaic history that spanned centuries. They towered over the beautiful older buildings and streets that made up this ancient old city.
There was a strange air about the difference in the old and the new, a refusal to blend and become one. The need of modern business and tourist’s money brought out the requirement for all the convenience that modern times could supply. To protect the architecture and history, the newer buildings were kept at a distance from the narrow cobbled streets of the venerable buildings of the old city.
The building Rad was entering with long strides was a large monument to man’s ability to build up and out in a short time, yet disguise what it represented. It had been built ten years ago on the back edge of the business district, behind one of the biggest banks in Rome, of course not counting the separate bank belonging to the Catholic Church, which was actually a country by itself inside of Rome.
This building was all marble and stone going skyward, with only tiny six inch slits of dark glass placed randomly around the exterior on various points of its 28 floors. The glass was leaded, the entire building was covered and screened with iron mesh, hidden in the walls, the floors and ceilings. The bronze plaque on one side of the door said only
Centuries Enterprises,
giving no further information as to what was housed in the large formation of stone and steel.
The beautiful entrance was a double set of doors, dark from the outside. Once through the first wide glass set that moved flawlessly with no sound, there was a ten-foot walkway on a beautiful Aubusson carpet in deep colors. Most who entered were not aware that the next set of doors would not open until the first outside doors had closed. The next opened as one approached, with only the sound of soft air, and then you were in the graceful high lobby.
Magnificent marble was set in a spiral pattern that took the eye from the floor to the walls to the ceiling three stories above as it swirled and grew to end in a giant ball of a hanging globe chandelier. The chandelier constantly changed colors with its movement to confuse the mind and hold the eye.
Rad had been through here for a few meetings, but he took this time to look around the large lobby. There was a beautiful female receptionist sitting behind an elevated curved black desk and two large guards dressed in blue suits behind her, up against the wall. There was a group of human businessmen gathered in one of the conversation pits at one side of the lobby, but the rest of the large room was empty. Surprisingly, the voices did not echo and the huge area was quiet.
He walked with his usual strength to the bank of elevators, all of which had polished steel doors except the last one, which had bronze doors. A servant stood in front of it, nodded in respect and pushed the button to call the machine down for the esteemed visitor in front of him. The elevator doors opened and the doorman held his hand against them to allow Rad to have plenty of time to enter. There were no buttons on this car as it went to only one location, the top floor. The top floor, no matter which room or where the hallways went, had no windows. This was the main seat of the Council.
Although he did not have the fear, and perhaps even the reverence most had on entering the presence of the Council, he still afforded them the respect they deserved. After all, they were the final word in the rules that controlled the civilized portion of the dark of night that he and many others around the world lived within.
In fact, he was one of their enforcers, their best enforcer. He had developed several talents beyond most of those that lived in the night
—
talents that might have come from the fact that he was so very old, yet some talents that just were a gift of the Gods. A lot of those of the night were afraid of him. They feared his strength, the absolute power given to him by the Council, and his unknown abilities. So he was an enforcer.
He was a tall, handsome male. He had been good looking before he was turned, and like all Vampires, the extra attractions gave him an allure that drew the eyes of both women and men. The long black hair, the pale blue eyes so light they almost faded at times except for the outline and the iris along with the sharp jaw line. A hard warrior jaw that had many artists try to capture it, both in stone and on canvas. There was the mouth. It did not set in a line
—
it held a slight upturn on one side. A crooked slight smile as if he found the whole world just a little bit humorous, no matter how serious the event. That smile had brought many women to his bed and many men to a fight. Many a male also had a wish to that same bed. He was too old to say he had not tried both sides of the covers, but had long decided he preferred a female below him.
