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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/938247-The-Servant-of-the-Queen
by Dio
Rated: 13+ · Novella · Action/Adventure · #938247
My second attempt, hope you enjoy.
Coriander Malcolm’s eyes shone in the darkness of the bell tower, a piercing blue glow emanating from the hollows of his stone like face. The sun had set hours ago, and Prague was now asleep. It was time for the masks to come off, for the true players to reveal themselves, and Coriander patiently awaited the arrival of a one Mr. Christof Ginovaef. The thing he was searching for was a murderer, a kidnapper, and a raving lunatic, driven to madness by the disease. Vampirism did that to some people, they just couldn’t take the shock of the transformation and it screwed them up badly, very badly. It wasn’t every day that Coriander had to hunt a Vampire, but it was always a dirty business, for they were powerful, not as nasty as Werewolves, but the fact that he was nuts put it somewhere in the vicinity.
The first to emerge into the night life was a young looking couple who were definitely vamps, Coriander could have smelled it on them from miles off. Two, three more came from the basements of random buildings, their eyes held a predatory glint that was unmistakable, it was feeding time. Coriander hated watching them feed, but getting into it with Vampires wasn’t exactly the best idea, they were all a little crazy, no matter who they were, and they had a habit of holding extreme grudges. The man he was searching for was nowhere to be seen, and the thoughts of the kindred were clouded with their need to feed. Perhaps he would have to ask a few questions directly.
He leapt gracefully from the top of the bell tower, his long, red jacket floating around him like a pair of leathery, scarlet wings. He landed without great impact, as though he had only fallen a few feet, when in reality it was more than a hundred. Gravity had no weigh on him, the physics of man did not apply for his body was not of the earth, he could fall from any distance, and it would always turn out the same way. He was not a vampire, he was not a werewolf, he was simply Coriander, the most skilled and revered retrieval expert in the business, though his area of expertise was the paranormal. Nobody knew him personally, most of the people he’d ever truly known had died in some way or another. One thing was for certain about him, though, and that was the simple fact that he always completed a job, he always won, at whatever cost.
The streets were empty, save the occasional kindred, but their minds were as empty as their souls, they knew nothing. Prague was a cursed place, the smell of the undead was heavy in the air, he was amazed that mortals could live in such a place. There was a glint in his mind, an image, his prey was somewhere close. The Order had given him a picture, and a brief psych profile that helped more than the photo. For someone with Coriander’s abilities, photographs weren’t the way to go when he could track him down psychically. But Vampires were different from humans, being that they existed on two planes at once, their minds were extremely more difficult to interpret, plus, the guy was nuts.
"Could be worse…could be back in Berlin." He thought to himself. Now where is he? His radar was going off, but he couldn’t get an exact location. Psionics was his greatest power, but also the hardest for him to control, it had taken him half a century to master the basics, he was still exploring the rest of his powers, which at the time seemed to have no end. And for some reason I can’t get a lock on the little… At that moment the image came to him as clear as day, he was in the basement of the cathedral near the city gate. But…There’s someone else there…someone with quite a bit of power.
Coriander didn’t have time to think about it, he had to get to Christof, subdue him, and take him back to Ukraine and that task alone made him cringe. He broke into a brisk walk, following his mental radar to the cathedral, when he was approached by a large, burly kindred and a smaller one, both with bright red hair. They looked liked the rest of their kind, pallow, white skin and long, skeletal fingers. Their eyes were both a bright shade of green.
“A bit late for a stroll, wouldn’t you say sir?” Asked the smaller one. Coriander ignored them and kept walking.
“I’ve no time for you, trust me, your better off for it.” Just as coriander made it around a corner, there they stood, seemingly having moved instantaneously between the two points.
“But we’re hungry, we’d love to have you for supper.” The small one said again, this time giving Coriander a wide, toothy grin.
“Please, I am in a hurry, you will only slow me down.” Coriander kept walking. The burly one tried to stop Coriander by putting his hand against his shoulder. Now the burly one was well over six feet, and Coriander was barely over five, and yet the burly man fell to his knees as Coriander gripped his hand so hard, he could as much hear as he could feel the bones snap.
The smaller one tried to attack, but was thrown back by an uppercut from Coriander, who then threw the burly man into the side of a building. They got up quickly, just like Vampires always did, Coriander had almost forgotten that they didn’t feel pain quite as badly as mortals. They rushed him at the same time, Coriander drew two daggers from underneath his coat, and seemed to disappear. The two vampires stopped dead in their tracks, both making desperate gasping sounds, then their heads slid from their bodies and they were dead. Coriander reappeared, daggers sheathed and walking just as casually as before.
He hated to kill them, it was always such an ordeal whenever one of the clans were after him. It didn’t matter though, they hadn’t caught up to him yet, but god knew that they always tried their damndest. The two kindred probably wouldn’t be missed for a while, after all, even Vampires weren’t invincible, and sometimes they met up with a formidable human who just happened to know how to use a sword or a gun.
The cathedral was one of the oldest surviving structures in all of Prague, and full of Old Time charm. Coriander went to the entrance to the lower levels. What a strange place for a coven to convene…then again, it’s actually quite perfect. Who would ever suspect the church? Priests, after all, were only mortal men, and the promise of immortality could tempt even most the resolute clergyman, and that treachery nullified the church‘s sanctuary. It was time to go into stealth mode, to become part of the shadows. As Coriander opened the door, his body became part of the encroaching darkness within the chamber, he seemed to merge with them, to become the shadow itself.
The room was rotund in nature, the adjacent crypt was obviously their resting place. In a great chair at the end of the room, there sat a woman. Her beauty was quite remarkable, her skin the color of porcelain, her eyes were bright green, and her hair was a brilliant shade of red. Though she looked young, Coriander’s power told him that she was an ancient, older than even Alexander.
Kneeling at her feet, was Christof. His clothes were torn, his once graceful figure now contorted and disfigured on the floor. He was praying…worshiping her.
“Show yourself, interloper.” The woman said in a powerful voice. The whisper in Coriander’s mind told him that her name was Countess Mia.
“Good evening Countess Mia.” Coriander said. Christof stood and turned violently, unable to see the hidden intruder. Coriander stepped out of the shadows, the darkness falling off of him like water.
“A strange creature you are…wait…is that you Cori?” She half stood, staring at Coriander intensely. “Why…it is you! It has been such a very long time!” She sounded as though she were on the brink of tears.
Coriander had no recollection of his past, but he was sure he’d never ever met this woman before, but then again, in another time he might have known her. He’d simply awoken one day and had been ever since, how should he know who knew him and who didn't? The Order found him, trained him, taught him to use his powers, and he had been in their service for almost seventy years. Nobody knew how old he was, or where he’d come from, and this was the first time that someone had recognized him. He was very much taken back, it took him more than a few minutes to find a suitable retort.
“You know me?” That was pretty much all he was able to come up with. “That’s…impossible.”
“Quite the contrary, I know you almost as well as you once knew yourself. You are Coriander Malcolm, or I am very much a fool.”
“You are no fool.” He stood, transfixed by her almost feline features, her eyes piercing into his soul.
“You have come for my servant, no doubt.” She motioned toward Christof. “For those he has killed, correct? No doubt the Order has sent for him, but I’m afraid I’m not quite ready to relinquish him of his duties.” Coriander’s stone-like resolve returned, and he became his normal self. There were very few things in the universe that could piss Coriander off, and someone getting in the way of finishing a job was at the top of the list .
It was time to pull out a bigger gun. Coriander met her gaze, and his eyes seemed to radiate a mesmerizing blue glow. He willed her with all of his power to let him take Christof, implanting the thoughts ever so expertly into her own consciousness, but to no avail. There was something more to this Countess than he could gather. She frowned, looking a little disappointed, but not toward Coriander.
"You have become much more powerful than you once were. I was almost convinced. You are nearer to equality with my power than any other being on Earth."
"Forgive me if I don't thank you for the compliment, but I was not sent here to chit-chat."
"Oh absolutely, if you want to, you may try to take him, but he will not go without a fight." Christof stood and stared at Coriander, and with a frightening burst of speed, was rushing at Cori. But Cori was faster, he side-stepped the rush and caught Christof in the throat with his forearm, sending him to the ground with a hard thud.
Christof was surprised by Cori's speed, it was amazing, even by Vampire standards. He got back up and locked arms with Cori. No matter how hard he pulled or tugged, the man in red leather would not give way, he seemed to be made of solid rock.
"What in hell are you?!" Gasped Christof. Coriander didn't answer, he simply leaned over and threw Christof against the adjacent wall, which cracked and broke under the force of the blow. Christof was out cold.
"I don't know what you've been doing Coriander, but you've gotten much stronger." Mia hissed. "It is of little consequence though. I still cannot let you take him, no matter how powerful you have become." She stood, the robes she wore seemed to writhe around her like some great serpent. Coriander knew this trick, but to what extent she could manipulate it, he hadn't the slightest idea.
Cori poised himself for combat, and in the blink of an eye a long piece of her robe shot forth and knocked him against a pillar. The stone crumbled, and the whole structure seemed to shake. The same tendril gripped him by the throat and lifted him off of the ground.
"You may have lost your memory, Coriander, but not your charm."
Coriander reacted out of instinct, he relaxed his hands and closed his eyes, concentrating as best he could. Countess Mia started squeezing harder, and then Coriander opened his eyes, which seemed to be erupting blue flames. Several bolts of electrical energy swirled around Coriander, and forced Countess Mia to release her grip on him. The blue bolts continued to writhe around him as he hovered off of the ground.
Countess Mia was dumbfounded. "How on earth did you manage that?!" Coriander only smiled.
"The question you should be asking yourself, is 'was I really trying?'" Mia snarled, Coriander could tell that she didn't like being one-upped.
© Copyright 2005 Dio (lorddio at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/938247-The-Servant-of-the-Queen