Bloodlust

Chapter Two

When I wake, I'm surprisingly stable, considering the drugs and alcohol that ran through my system. Groaning, I roll onto my back. The floor is slick with water and dank. There's a singular window that provides light to the room. I sigh.

I suppose this is what I get for letting myself get kidnapped.

As I wait for someone to fetch me, I look over my clothes. Someone's changed me, thankfully, a woman, by the outfit that's been provided to me. I've been dressed in a cropped black top and high-waisted black pants, tucked in at the boot by a pair of gorgeous Doc Martens. I sigh again.

This outfit will be ruined by tonight. In the next ten minutes, if no one fetches me.

Thankfully, that's not the case. A strangely pale man comes minutes later, his grip on my arm painfully tight. "I can walk, asshat," I grumble. Keeping up the pretense of kidnapping isn't difficult. I'm pissed as hell.

"As lovely as ever, Nadya," he grumbles back.

"I haven't lived for over five hundred years just to be polite, Zak." He grimaces. "I made you, Zak. That has to mean something." 

"You might've sired me, Nadya, but my allegiance lies with the Council. You used me time after time and I won't keep going back to you." With that, he throws me into a chamber, men and women lining the walls.

Not quite men and women. Vampires.

Sitting in front of me is the Blood Council, made up of powerful vampires. To the far left is Anastasia Gulkola, who I once knew in post-Russian Revolution Soviet Russia. She's always been uptight, but now she just seems severe. As if all the fun has drained out of her life.

In the middle is Rockefeller Nemgard. I've never been close with him, but I know he was turned during the Industrial Revolution, just before he hit a jackpot of wealth. He joined the Council after his uncle was killed by a vampire hunter. Ugh. Nepotism.

My heart drops as I face the man on the right. "Alastair," I say, nodding my head sharply.

He grimaces. "Nadya."

Alastair Bone. Once, my oldest friend. Now, my greatest enemy.

"Nadya Telemun, you face the Blood Council on charges that have long-awaited justice." Anastasia's voice booms over the hordes of vampires, eager to see justice brought.

"Before we read the charges, someone would like to speak to you, Miss Telemun." Rockefeller jerks his chin towards a door and a very familiar face walks through.

I couldn't tell you his name. Honestly, I thought I killed him.

"You nearly did!" the man shrieks.

I stare at him, confused. "I said that aloud?"

"Are you dumb or stupid?"

"Well, you thought I would be a good lay either way, so..." I shrug. "What do you want to say to me?"

"YOU LEFT ME FOR DEAD IN AN ALLEYWAY!" he shrieks.

"And therein lies the problem," Alastair says, his quiet voice silencing all other noise within the room. The man looks like he wants to speak more, but Zak appears from nowhere to drag him away. "You, Miss Telemun, have been careless with your disposition of human bodies. You have killed more humans in the past few years than many less-experienced vampires have in the past five decades. I see no excuse for your shoddy work."

I look him dead in the eyes. "Do I give a fuck?"

Murmurs erupt around the chamber. Nobody dares to speak to the Blood Council in this manner, especially Alastair. He, however, looks unamused, but not surprised. Good. He hasn't completely forgotten about me over the years. "Miss Telemun, please watch your language."

"I am here," I proclaim loudly, "because the Council kidnapped me in an attempt to prove their superiority. I mean, it was a dumb as shit plan, since I came here of my own accord, but that's besides the point. Why the hell should I do anything for you?" 

"Because you threaten the safety of all vampires with your actions!" Anastasia says in a rare show of temper. "Because you, Nadya Telemun, are not the only person who matters."

"Spoken like a bitter woman," I retort. "You never did get over my rejection all those years ago, did you, Anya?"

Purple colors her face. "You are worthless, Nadya. You are nothing. You are selfish, childish, and hold a complete lack of regard and respect for your brethren. You are hardly more than a werewolf." 

Utter contempt laces her words. I shoot back with a vengeance. "If I am so worthless, Anya, why am I here? I've been killing this way for years. Decades, even, if I remember correctly. So why are you just taking action in the past few months? Why did you continue sending vampires who are weaker than me, who you know are weaker than me? Why did it take me hiring my own damn hitman and giving him a serum to get me to this room? Because I know for a fact those two idiots you hired to take care of me wouldn't have gotten the job done." I pause, considering. "They were highly entertaining, though."

"Thank you!" Will shouts from somewhere in the room.

Anastasia scowls and opens her mouth to respond before Alastair cuts her off. "Everyone, please exit the room. Except for you three." I don't need to look to see that he's indicting to Will and Niklaus. The third is Zak.

When everyone has filtered out, Alastair says, "Do you know the story of the original vampires, Nadya? Or is this something that you deem beneath you?"

Bored, I recite the story in as few words as possible. "A witch bred her children to be vampires. Her husband cut their throats. They rose. One was a hybrid, because his mom slept around with werewolf villagers. They are called the Originals. Their last name is Mikaels--"

"Not the Vampire Diaries verison," Alastair sighs.

"Oh. Then no."

"There was a witch who created vampires so as to live immortally with her lover. They bit many humans, spawning thousands of descendants. However, the man decided that he disliked immortality and vampires as a whole. He killed his wife and proceeded to hunt vampires."

"And to this day, we live in fear...yeah, yeah, I've heard it somewhere," I say dismissively.

"The little known part of the story is this, Nadya," Rockefeller adds solemnly. I fail to fight the urge to roll my eyes. God, do I hate nepotism. "The man, named Henrik, incurred the wrath of a witch. She bound him to a singular spot, unable to move, and but for a single drop of blood a day, he hungers for the blood of vampires."

"So it has been for thousands of years," Anastasia says, her teeth gritted. "But the witch's spell wears thin. If unleashed, Henrik Lyricson could bring untold terror upon the vampires of the world. We need you to capture a witch to fortify the spell. Henrik must not be unleashed. Upon pain of death."

"More like upon pain of immortality," I say airily. "This is no life, Anya. Even you must know that."

"Will you accept the mission, Nadya?" Alastair asks tiredly. I glance at him, surprised in what I find. Tiredness - of immortality, of endless existence - lines his face. Alastair is old, even for an immortal. This, though, is something else. This is pure exhaustion.

"What if I say no?"

"The Council has dealt with wayward vampires before, Miss Telemun," Anastasia says. "You are no special case." 

"With no due respect, Councilwoman," I spit, "the council has never dealt with me." 

GUYS!!!! here's a chapter, i got bored. um, i'll update again at some point, probably next week. most likely i'll update two days a week, maybe one? idk, i'm trying to write a bunch of chapters in advance so that i can update as much as possible...hope you like it! comment with your thoughts!! 

xx, k