Chapter 1

Could you believe most of our kind are very light sleepers? Maybe because of the fact that our senses are heightened a fuck-load more so that when someone tries to kill you, you can even hear their fucking knives unsheathe? Or the fact I can damn well smell their fucking essence? They sent amateurs, of all the damn people in their bloodline –amateurs were the ones they sent. Fuckin’ A. It’s just insulting –really.
I didn’t so much as lose a heartbeat when I snapped my eyes open while I grabbed the weapon that was the nearest thing to me. My Firestar. I aimed my gun at that the place where it hurt most –the groin. I pulled the trigger twice on imbecile no. 1 and then on imbecile no.2. They fell on the floor immediately and covered their groins with their hands. I dropped my Firestar on my bed and grabbed one of my Wakizashi swords that was leaning on the foot of my bed. With two clean slashes, both the heads of the imbeciles were severed and their body started to decompose into their true age.
I started to wipe my blade on my shirt when my so-called ‘bodyguards’ came in with fucking guns blazing. What greeeaaat timing.
‘You’re late.’ I said blandly.
Christopher and Brain looked at one another looking helplessly mortified. Christopher’s brunette hair wasn’t tied up in a ponytail this time. His hair mopped over his masculine face and brown eyes. Christopher had soft cheekbones and his face masculine. His body was well-defined in his simple black pants and black t-shirt. Brian had shorter hair but of the same colour. He stood tall and one of his best unique features was his chin that had a deep indentation that looked like a soft W. His cheekbones were more defined and his face more raw than Christopher’s. They were both overly-muscled that should’ve been to the point where it should be unappealing but it suited them. Not a lot of beings have that and flaunt it –but then again, most vampires flaunt many things –don’t they?
‘We didn’t know-‘Christopher began slowly.
‘I can take care of myself before and after the title of the Mistress of the City was righteously bestowed upon me.’ I said bitterly.
Five months have passed when I killed my twin, Carmine. In that time, I’ve made a deal with our local Archdemon, died, resurrected, did a couple of pro-bono work, found the murderer of the two deaths of the Evie George and some other woman (which was ultimately my twin, hence her death), two Supremes paid a little visit to me and forced me to take the role of playing fucking Mistress of the City (Mircea was the one that called them in the fucking first place). Isn’t life just damn fucking peachy?
‘Fuck. It’s the fucking tenth time they tried to kill you within this week and it’s only Wednesday.’ Brain muttered.
‘People tend to do that when the Mistress of the City deny the responsibility of the role.’ Christopher said and the fucker was even brave enough to look at me.
I met his stare. ‘You son of a bitch. I bloody didn’t ask for it, did I?’
‘No you didn’t but the Supremes that paid you a little visit –which is very rare for them to even bother a city, let alone you in the first place- gave you the role of it. Put your tail between your legs and get over it.’
Fucking Supremes. The Supremes were the first ever vampires on the earth -each had different bloodlines, seven in total. They were the Law itself among the vampire race and since I’m part vampire, I’m under their ruling. Why the fuck shouldn’t I just say no to them? One, because they were centuries older than me so the age-is-power rule applies and two, my Vampiress didn’t fucking want to say no. See my dilemma? At the time I could do nothing but be a good girl and obey them.
I let my power seep out of my body. I could tell that both of my so-called ‘bodyguards’ became very still. They felt it alright.
‘Wanna talk to me like that again?’ I challenged. ‘You can speak your own mind, I don’t really give a fuck but don’t fucking piss off a tiger when it’s already pissed –got it?’
‘Yes Mistress’ Christopher said softly.
‘Scarlet.’ I corrected, I didn’t need all this formal, you’re-stronger-than-me bullshit. But seriously, would you rattle a lion’s fucking cage when you know it’s pissed? No you wouldn’t, unless you’re a stupid fuck that should be the lion’s chow in the first place. Thing is, Chris was right damn it. I was neglecting it. Maybe my sub-conscious thought that if you ignored it long enough, it’ll go away. The damn City is sure as shit not fucking going away at the blink of my eyes any time soon, now is it? Wish there was some reverse spell or some shit that can make this go away but I found out that people don’t mess with the past because the ‘Fates’ would be a real bitch when it bites me in the ass later.
‘What do you suggest we do?’ I asked both of them. I figured that if you guarded the ex-Mistress of the City, you’d know a few things.
They both looked surprised when I asked them. I couldn’t blame them since the Mistress of the City never ask for help to those who are just muscle to them and not even at equal power stage as you. Brian recovered first.
‘You need to fully announce your position and let them know you’re not to be fu- I mean, messed with.’ He adjusted.
‘Why the hell are you suddenly changing your vocab? If you want to fucking curse then do it right. I’m not like my sister. I don’t give a shit.’
‘Nonetheless, it would be...wrong.’ He said.
I shook my head. ‘How do you think I should announce it?’ I asked.
‘You need the Masters to give their blood oath to you. Go to each kind separately.’ Christopher said.
‘Which is...’ I trailed.
‘The Feys, the packs, vampires and mages.’
‘Shit.’
‘You need their loyalty. Every single one wants the title and it’s up for grabs until you do it.’
‘Damn system.’ I muttered. If the system was never based on power and dominance none of this shit was needed but since we’re predators, territory comes with it. I was the unofficial Mistress of the City and being ‘unofficial’ can spark a few ideas in our supernatural community. Damn it straight to hell.


Chapter 2

I closed my eyes and leaned closer to the hot water that hit my neck first then trailed down my back. I let my forehead rest on the tiled wall in front of me. Even though the bathroom was first-class with a twin sink and marble floors, I missed my bathroom. My medium-size bathroom didn’t have a white couch at the centre of the room but had a sink, bath/shower and toilet. Since my house was too far away from the damn mansion and the fact it was too small for the guards to protect me (even though I sure as shit can protect my own damn ass) if it was an ambush –which is highly unlikely since my house was bulletproof and Magick-proof from anyone. I say bullshit to both but I couldn’t deny the fact that if I did live at my house, I would be bait and be seen as an easy kill –not so very wise for our world, so here I am –home sweet fucking home. Isn’t that that a bitch?
Since when have I ever wanted more power than I already have? Never. I don’t want to bloody rule. I don’t need it. I sighed. Life was so much easier when I was just my sister’s enforcer –her fucking assassin. Killing was my comfort zone; killing was what I know –not this supernatural politics bullshit. I had a feeling that things aren’t going to be the same but I weighed the options. Option one was to play the Mistress of the City till I damn well die or option no. two was to just keep the seat warm until another worthy enough Mistress/Master of the City would take up the opportunity. I say option two it is but in the mean time I had some important people to meet and to keep myself alive in the mean time –but that didn’t mean people won’t try to kill me first.
Who would’ve thought someone would try and attack you while you’re in the shower? And from the attack earlier, Brian stood outside the bedroom door and Chris was outside the bathroom door. Though who would’ve thought a fucking war mage that had a fucking arsenal just materialize right next to the damn white couch. Jeez! Can anyone not attempt kill me for more than ten minutes? Or at least after I showered?
The mage was purely in black. His head was bald that showed its smooth ivory skin. His face was particularly large like the rest of his body. His main stand-out look was his beard. It was jet-black and trimmed into the style of a circle beard. His moustache and goatee joined at the side of his pale pink lips. The guy was huge, no doubt about 6ft 8 at least. He had piercing bold blue eyes and his cheekbones sharp. He also had a small silver hoop earring in his right ear. I’ll be damned to say that the guy looked great with his muscular bravado. His black pants had multiple of pockets and leather straps to hold his weapons for easy access –is that a grenade? I mean grenades? They were strapped around his left thigh. His wore a black turtle neck and over it was a black leather coat that went down to the back of his knees. I saw the hilt poking out of the crook of his neck on his right side. His leather coat was unbuttoned so most of it covered his shoulder gun holsters but not all. I had no doubt that he had at least two back-up guns and extra ammo somewhere around his body. Two knives were in their black leather sheaths that were strapped onto his other thigh. I also didn’t doubt that smaller knives were in his Shitkickers and I’ll just bet that there’s more to it than meets the eye with his ‘leather coat.’ The first thing I thought of was, is half the shit his carries even legal? The second thing I thought of was, isn’t that shit heavy? Then it dawned on me with a –Oh, shit.
I was in the shower naked and wet while his was standing next to the fucking couch fully clothed and dry. He had the damn nerve to give me a once-over! Then he met my eyes. We stared at each other for a while. I didn’t make a move and I made sure my face was expressionless.
‘Can I at least put on a robe before you try to kill me?’ I asked blandly.
His didn’t give me that. He already had a gun in his hand and pulled the trigger. I was now grateful for my spacey shower as I lunged down, missing the silver bullet. The glass shattered. I didn’t miss a beat when I grabbed a sharp-tipped glass for a weapon. He was a mage which means he was a human with powers –and humans can get killed with even the slightest bit of material. I quickly went for him but having a mage fight against you was equivalent to a vampire but only this time, they can control the fucking elements and don’t have unimpressive fangs to show off.
My back hit and shattered the mirror as his used his power to manipulate the air to push me back –hard. I threw the sharp-tipped glass towards him and hit his lower abdomen deeply. His hissed but I used that time to side-kick him in the stomach and unsheathe his sword at the same time. Since I was mostly not human, the weight of the sword was like a feather to me. I stepped a few feet away from him and waited. I wanted know why him of all species of the supernatural kind wanted to kill the Mistress of the City.
I saw his lips moved quickly and heard a faint soft language only mages knew and cast. The fucker was trying to cast a spell on me. With my speed, I began to slash him with his sword. I couldn’t cut his tongue out if I needed answers from him, can I? While he dodged and punched, his lips still kept on moving without fail. This was great workout and the mage was the only one that actually had at least some skills. Damn it, if only I can use compulsion on him. It’s funny how I can use it on those who are undead or monster but mages were human, or at least, mostly human. Humans didn’t come under the compulsion category for me. Why? Magick is always inconsistent, never fully expecting how it’ll turn up –like vampires six months and under can sire a child. We don’t know why but it just is. With Magick, you’ll hope for the best and cross your fingers. I mean, who else are part Demon, part Vampiress, part Necromancer and part human, other than me? My two main creatures, my Demon and my Vampiress, take the lead most of the time. This was one of them.
The floor beneath me turned from marble into quick sand and I was about to go down fast. Without hesitation, I leaped in the air and launched myself onto him. I grabbed one of his knives in the process and applied pressure on his throat, spilling only a little bit of blood. While I was about to speak, his gutted me. I was no more than surprised as I looked down. He had his big hands wrapped around the hilt and as he twisted, it only went deeper. My blood poured out and it did hurt but hurt was an unnecessary emotion I didn’t need right know. I looked back up and smiled at him.
‘Was that supposed to hurt?’ I asked.
He only grunted. He apparently got the message and stopped. Usually any of those who are attacking me never give up and try and make me feel pain, while this mage stopped –knowing it was inevitable because if a stab wound that has been twisted and dug even deeper into ones flesh and didn’t even hurt the person, what else are you going to do? If a knife didn’t make an effect on me, what the hell are you going to use? A gun? It wouldn’t do much good apart from the person’s hand on the gun gets cut off.
My small body grounded his to the ground to make him stay still, while I get some damn answers from him and even though he was 6ft 8 and I was only 5ft 12, I was still stronger because I wasn’t full human and he mostly was. He was a smart man.
My body used all its strength to pin him down to the ground. The knife I had one his throat moved up to his cheek.
‘Tell me, mage. Why the fuck did you attack me in the shower? I mean, couldn’t you at least wait till I was finished and dressed?’ I said.
His grunted again but he spoke this time. ‘And miss your sweet ass, lady?’
I slowed pressed my knife down to his cheek and dragged it down. I made a nice line of blood that was pretty deep. His hissed.
‘You sent those imbeciles to kill me?’ I asked. You never know, people in the 21st century uses if-you-want-to-get-it-done-right-do-it-yourself rule.
‘Do I look like I associate myself with pussies?’ He said, looking clearly offended. Prejudice, aren’t we? So a war mage that has a thing against vampires, great –what’s next? The fucking bodyguard of the Pythia?
‘Why?’ I demanded.
His gave me a smile. ‘Why what?’
I really didn’t want to play this bullshit since I was still wet and naked. I simply adjusted my position and deliberately kneed his bollocks –hard. He made a struggled and compressed moan.
‘Fuck the crap, mage. Why the hell did you try to kill me?’ I demanded once more.
‘Like you don’t know, motherfucker. You stole our mages, Carmine and your head on a silver fucking platter would suffice.’ He said bitterly. Carmine? What the fuck?
‘You think I’m Carmine? I don’t know whether to laugh or be insulted.’ I said.
He gave me a look. ‘You’re not Carmine?’
‘Do I look like I’m Carmine?’ I said and gave him a face. We don’t even look like each other. Jeez.
‘How do I know you’re not her? That you’re pretending not to be her to save your worthless life.’
‘Do you even know how she looked like?’ I said incredulously. Is this guy living under a rock? Maybe. Mages are crazy about the elements –that and mint tea.
‘The title; Mistress of the City was enough to know who to target.’ He said blandly.
‘You got the wrong girl. I’m Scarlet –her twin.’ I emphasized.
‘Then where is she?’ He demanded.
‘You are totally naive about what’s been happening haven’t you? Where were you in the last couple of months?’ I said. This guy was waayy behind schedule.
‘I was out fighting a rogue mage who time-travelled back in time. Getting back was a bitch on sticks’ He said.
Oooooooo.
‘Carmine is dead. You’re new Mistress of the City is me.’ I replied.
‘Bullshit.’ He said. That word came instantly. Was it really that hard to believe? Probably.
That was when my bodyguards burst into the bathroom. Why do they always come at the wrong time? Maybe I should get them watches or something that has to do with the time or clocks.
‘Where the fuck were you guys?’ I snapped.
‘We were attacked by mages.’ The both replied blandly. Well, that explains it.
‘O.’ I said to them, since I didn’t know what else to say. I turned back to the mage that lay underneath my hands.
‘Are you going to attempt to kill me or poof off somewhere when I get up?’ I asked.
‘Do I look like the type to ‘poof off’? Lady, I’m not some pixie who poof’s off to fuck knows where.’
‘Brian, get me a towel.’ I said. ‘Christopher, get me my souvenir.’
Brian threw me a white towel while Christopher walked off to get it.
‘What were you talking about when you said Carmine took your mages?’ I asked.
‘Ever heard of the new wine called Ambrosia?’ He asked sarcastically.
I clocked on to what he said. Ambrosia was liquor but for vampires. ‘Carmine stole mages to make Ambrosia. Ambrosia was made from mage blood.’ I said. I was betting that all of the mages didn’t give their consent for this. The mage blood thing was still a new thing to me. Oh fuck Carmine. What else have you done?


Chapter 3

‘So how much for my head severed and be placed on a silver platter?’ I asked casually, as if it was normal for a small-talk subject –but what is normal?
‘Half a million grand.’ He said. His accent was more cockney.
I let out a low whistle. I’m worth that much? Should I be flattered? I turned to Brian who was standing a couple of feet away from me and his gaze solely on the war mage.
‘How much was it before Brian? A quarter of a mil?’ I asked.
He nodded.
‘And you can’t simply refuse right? Fuck I wouldn’t even refuse it.’ I stated.
He shrugged. ‘The price of your head is going up by the hour. Since I’m doing this for the mages, why not get some cash out of it?’
‘Nothing than a good compensation.’ I agreed.
‘Damn straight, lady.’
‘Scarlet. And your name is...?’
‘Adrian.’
I waited. He didn’t continue. ‘Got a surname?’
‘No surname.’
He wasn’t very good at the small-talk, was he now?
‘You still going to try and kill me?’ I asked.
‘For now, no. I need you to tell me the location of the place they are keeping the mages. As for later...we’ll see.’
‘Ain’t that fucking reassuring?’ I muttered.
‘No shit.’
Christopher came in with my souvenir. He threw it at me and I caught it with my right hand. I held it by using Carmine’s hair as its holder. By now most of the skin on her face has already rotted away and in result to that, Carmine gave a stinky funk. Her eyes were still open and her lips cruel. When I killed her, a lot of people believed she weren’t dead because there were no witnesses (despite the fact that all those that has given a blood oath to her felt her fucking die) so her head was the proof and my souvenir in the process. See? Even our supernatural kind is denial? She didn’t look so hot now since she was body-less and not to mention her neck was the one that tasted my silver blade. Not very pretty. I put it in front of Adrian on the table. He put down his mint tea and looked at it then looked at me.
‘A gift? Really? I’m flattered but unfortunately I have to decline.’ He said blandly.
I pointed at the head with my right hand. ‘That’s Carmine.’
‘She doesn’t look very much like you to be your twin.’
‘We’re immortal-born. Magick is a damn exception to everything and every damn loophole of the shit I had to endure in most part of the centuries of my life.’
Carmine was the smaller more petite sister with jet-black hair and blue eyes. I was the sister who was slightly taller and bigger, that had dark red hair and green eyes. My sister, of course, was the prettier version of us and even though we don’t look alike –who’s to judge? We’re twins by blood. Nothing really is ever going to change that apart from the fact I won’t let my creatures take control of me fully –which got her killed in the first place, btw. And who was the one who had to kill the being who killed the two women? Me, of course. It’s funny how my sister’s sense of humour bites her in the ass. Should I feel remorse? The bitch tried to kill me, fuck you very much. What do you think? Do I even love her like a normal twin should? No. I looked out for her in our stage of when we were mere children but that was out of duty and when she was more fragile. Fact: immortal children takes longer to grow (and I mean decades) to reach their full adult form.
He was the one that whistled this time. ‘Centuries, eh?’
‘Centuries.’ I repeated. ‘Adrian, meet Carmine. She’s a bit under the weather.’
‘Under the weather is a bit of an understatement, isn’t it? He said.
‘What can I say?’ I stopped for a while. Since we had nothing to talk about, we might as well get down to business. ‘What do you want Adrian if you’re not going to try and kill me for now?’
‘I want your help to find the mages.’
‘It’s my problem because...’ I said. I didn’t need more baggage into this whole bullshit fest. I had more problems about getting the supernatural community to except and swear by blood oath to the Mistress of the City before the damn City goes into a fucking KA-BOOM!
‘Because if you don’t, no allegiance with us for you.’ He said to me like a five-year-old-child.
‘You think it’s the mages I want to have allegiance with?’ I scoffed. They were powerful but if it’s vampires between mages, I pick vampires every single damn time but who am I to judge? Adrian was the best guy so far to try and attempt to kill me –and he was a mage.
‘We can fucking make a nuclear bomb out of nothing but thin air and make every last being in this City go KA-BOOM!’ He used his hands and fingers to emphasize on KA-BOOM!
Okay, point taken. They can control the elemental side hands down and yet, ‘God’ had to give them a little extra something like clairvoyants and shit. I didn’t really think of that –maybe because human was in the vocab under of the word, mage. They were good and if they knew how to use and wield they’re powers right, then I have no doubt that they can very well make the City go KA-BOOM!
‘You’re representing the whole of the mages?’ I asked.
‘Scout’s honour -on Pythia’s behalf anyway.’
‘What about the all-bets-are-off-when-we-find-the-mages thing?’ I asked.
He shrugged.
‘It’s half a mil. You sure you wanna past that up?’
‘I’ve got money in the bank –a fuck-load more.’ He said.
‘Then we have a deal.’
He got up and gulped the rest of the mint tea down. ‘That’s some good shit. Where did you get it from?’
‘Do I look like the type to drink tea and eat cookies?’ I said as I raised an eyebrow at him.
‘Guess not. My sword.’ He said as he crossed his arms around his chest, causing his muscles to do a rippling effect. Damn, he was same fiiinnnee ass for a mage.
I grabbed the sword hilt of the sword that was nicely settled by my side and actually looked at it. The hilt was so thick that my hand couldn’t go all the way round. The hilt was simply covered in brown-black leather and the bottom of the hilt gleamed of silver. The blade was long and straight –it also reeked of silver. It was a plain simple sword but there was something striking about it. I fell in love with the sword. I used fingertips to slide across the thin blade; it was sharp enough to draw blood even with the slightest touch. It was damn sharp alright.
I turned my gaze over to Adrian who was watching me. He smiled. ‘Isn’t she beautiful?’
‘She is but be careful not to say that to your woman.’ I said.
‘You’re holding her already. Mona meet Scarlet and Scarlet, meet Mona.’
I shook my head and threw it to him that was caught with absolute precision. While he raised the sword high with both hands, he smiled. ‘I’ll be in touch.’ Then he slammed his sword down into the marble floor and vanished with a bright white light.
Well, he certainly knew how to make an exit.


Chapter 4

I didn’t know whether to fuck this shit and run for it or remember the pride I have and stay still.
‘Ow! What the hell? You want to poke me to death?’ I said –irritated since it was the hundredth time she bloody stabbed me with a silver pin. I’ve been standing on a damn wooden box for over two hours in counting. I swear Madame-fucking-Teresa (her real name, btw –without the verbal curse of course.) was out to get me with pins fucking flying.
‘I wouldn’t have pricked you if you kept still!’ She snapped back. Madame Teresa was my sister’s personal maid/secretary/tailor and many more things I didn’t even know about. Madame Teresa was a psychic and fully human. The psychic part was still to riddle to me as she only smiled in response every time I asked her. This woman was frustrating and couldn’t she use, I don’t know, an iron pin instead of silver? Jeez! This woman should be on the fucking magazine as a voodoo priestess with me as a fucking doll.
Madame Teresa was an old fragile human and treats me like I’m not the big bad wolf who could break every bone in her body without a thought –which intrigued me in the first place. She had thin grey-white hair and wrinkles consumed her eyes, cheek, neck and mouth but not in a bitter-sour way but in a unicorns and rainbow sort of way. I’ll be damned but she had a strong unwavering spirit. I liked her but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be a right old hag when she should just shut the hell up.
‘Stand still!’ She said in the tone of a mother scolding a child. I had a feeling that I was the child.
I scowled in response. Petty and childish but what the fuck can I say to her if all the sentences I can think of has at least one curse. Damn it. When in doubt, shut the fuck up. It works every time and this was a pretty good time to zip my mouth. Damn it! The woman rendered me speechless and I was hardly ever speechless.
‘Don’t you scowl at me, young lady! Show some respect to your elders!’
‘I’m centuries older than you Madame Teresa.’ I said amusingly.
‘Yeah, when you have wrinkles on your face, give me a call but until then, I see nothing but a childish immortal child. Didn’t you mama ever taught you how to be polite?’
‘My mother abandoned me and my twin.’ I said plainly.
You think you might get maybe, I don’t know, a little sympathy out of the woman but she just dismissed it and pointed her crooked finger at me. I could see the fire in her pale blue eyes.
‘Enough of this back-talk too.’ She started.
I flung my arms in the air, in attempt of trying to get through to the woman but all I did was causing the needle-work from my dress to prick me deeply. ‘Fuc-‘
‘Enough of that foul mouth of your too or I’ll put chilli in your mouth.’ She warned.
‘Isn’t it supposed to be soap instead of chilli?’ I said as I raised an eyebrow at her.
‘Chilli. Soap don’t do you much good, I tell you. To stop you from your foul mouth, I want to burn it out of you not use soap to merely cover it.’
Well, fuck. I’m seriously glad I wasn’t her kid.
She went back to making adjustment with the damn dress. Why-o-why am I getting a dress fitted? Damn fucking Christopher believed I had to look good at the meetings I have to go to. Why am I enduring this and not just tell Christopher to go fuck a tree? One simple reason, he knew what he was doing and I’ll be damned if I didn’t wipe that smirk on his face as he leaned on the wall opposite the three mirrors facing me. Why can’t I go in my normal get-up but have more flashy toys, like grenades, surrounding me? I don’t know, go fucking ask Christopher.
My dress was in the same colour as my light brown caramel skin. That was another difference me and Carmine had. Skin colour. While hers’ was a nice shade of ivory, I took my father’s side and inherited his light brown skin. Mixing with my mother, I came out a light shade of brown which made it look like a permanent tan. The dress was one of those strappy ones that were over the shoulders and shiny material that hugged my body. It went down for a very generous V –and there was no way in hell I’d wear this dress without a bra, Christopher can so much fuck a fucking chair if he wanted to, my must-bra policy applies with everything. This dress was designed to be backless so the dress formed a soft arch just at the top of my ass to give it the full view of my smooth back. The dress was simple but showed off my curves and made me look taller than I actually am. It also had a slit going up my right thigh till it was about four inches from my pelvis.
Madame Teresa stood-up and circled around me and by the look of her satisfactory face, she done a damn good job of it. I looked in the mirror and to my horror; the first thing I thought of is that I might as well go in naked! It was just too damn sexy and who wants to wear a dress? I’ve had enough of that bullshit with corsets and damn petticoats. I don’t fucking wear dresses. Why? I’m not the type to wear even a damn skirt and I was more of a shorts and jeans type of gal. I don’t need this bullshit but if Christopher wasn’t right about image-means-everything to these vampires then fuck-me-to-hell I’ve got no choice. Damn it.
I turned to Christopher who was smirking at me.
‘I dare you to smirk again, Chrissy-boy. You wait and see what I’m gonna do to you.’
‘You won’t kill me.’ He said
‘And why the fu- I mean shizzle, won’t I kill you?’ I said incredulously
‘Who’s gonna help you in this if I die?’
‘Brian.’ I said instantly –knowing that was absolute bullshit that was coming from my mouth. Brian was as much as brain-dead when it came to supernatural bullshit. He knows how to fight and shit but this was waaayyy out of his league. Brian was the quiet one too. I think he never actually got over Carmine and looking for the traits of her in me. He was a good guard but he also had to guard outside. Damn fucking Christopher dibbed it first to who-gets-to-be-inside-with-Scarlet –childish right? I couldn’t so much as push him to go and wait with Brian since things can poof in and out to try and kill me at anytime –paranoid much?
Christopher gave me a look and he knew at that point he won the fight. Why don’t my own bodyguards have at least a tenth of respect for me? Fuck knows but I know for certain that if I fucking order it, they will follow or bye-bye birdie to him –that is.
I followed my gaze back to the mirror and looked closely at the woman that stared at me right back. Her dark red hair that came up to her waist was tied up in a tight ponytail. Her eyes were green and a shaped curvy mouth that was in a colour of a brownish purple-pink. Her skin was in a light brown colour that was equivalent to caramel. Her shoulders were wide and her waist small. Her muscles were will defined and her chest was small. The body was of an athlete, with rock-hard abs, legs that were long and strong and thighs were thick because of the muscle. Even though I was only 5ft 12, my pencil-like legs made me look tall.
This person looked exactly like me but changed. The person that stared before me wasn’t Scarlet anymore but Scarlet, the Mistress of the City.


Chapter five

The vampires were the first ones that I will officially announce my title as the Mistress of the City and I’m fucking nervous. I gulped hesitantly and kept pacing back and forth between Carmine’s bedroom –I mean my bedroom. I kept glancing back at Christopher and all I saw was his face smiling at me amusingly. Brian was trying very hard not to smile in the fucking first place.
‘Thank you Brian for being the adult in the fucking room.’ I muttered.
Christopher didn’t look like he gave a flying fuck. Fucking vampires –heartless, I tell you.
‘Oh my, is the big bad wolf nervous because of a bunch of vampires?’ He said amusingly.
‘A bunch of Master vampires that control the counties of my City.’ I corrected. It was true; I alone can’t control the whole City alone, so I had my generals to keep my City in the people in my City in check –my Master vampires.
Would they instantly slit their wrist to make a blood oath before me? Fuck no. Would they challenge my every damn step and command? Fuck yes. This ‘meeting’ or whatever the fuck it is, was the only time to win their respect. The thing that got me more nervous is the fact that they’re bringing their entire bloodline (those who are still undead) with them. It was simple etiquettes. There is actually a book on this type of shit to keep us monsters from killing each other. I have to say, it was a smart move for the Supremes to do. Without the etiquettes, I wouldn’t even want to think about what would happen. The general rule is that if there is the claiming of the Mistress of the City title, all of the bloodlines have to be there. Each bloodline gets to pick their champion to represent his Master/Mistress if they were to challenge me. in return, I could pick a champion too but why should I? Anyways, I love proving the fuckers wrong. It’s nothing but petty play.
The bedroom door open and Mircea walked in without a care in the world as Brian and Christopher was in kill-mode. Mircea wore a turquoise shirt that had ruffles in the front this time and deliberately left a couple of buttons undone –showing his smooth white chest. He wore his suit pants and very expensive shiny shoes. His curly black locks framed his masculine face, which made his blue eyes stand out. He had nice strong cheekbones and was the only one that had given me a blood oath. Mircea was the owner of Le Cirque de Monstres –a place where we show how much of a big bad monster we are.
Mircea was the one who called in the Supremes to force me into the fucking position in the first place. How did he get in touch with them in the first place? I had no fucking clue but the bastard managed to fucking do it, somehow.
‘Hello, Scarlet.’ Mircea said.
‘Ain’t you just fucking peachy?’ I said sarcastically. I still had a grudge for what he did to me, damn it. If I had minded my own business, he would’ve been Master of the City but nooo, Mircea didn’t want this honour bestowed upon him, he didn’t want to fucking rule. What did he think I wanted? To be the fucking Mistress of the damn City? Damn his fucking internal soul.
‘Still bitter, are we?’ Mircea said plainly.
‘No shit, Sherlock? What do you think?’ I said.
‘Well get over it, we have something bigger than your emotions right now.’
‘Never trust a vampire, let alone a master vampire. They only fuck you over –not once but fucking twice.’ I said to myself.
‘If I fucked you over, why would I give my blood oath to you right then and there after you killed Carmine, huh?’ He demanded.
‘I don’t give a flying fuck about the blood oath you’ve given me! I don’t want to be in this position! To rule every-fucking-one in this damn City?’ I yelled.
‘Fine, leave then. You don’t have to do this but know this, when you leave, this City would burn to shreds and don’t even get me started on what the Supremes is going to do with you.’ He yelled back at me.
‘Why the hell did you think I’m here in the fucking first place, huh? If the Supremes weren’t involved, I wouldn’t be in this fucking mess!’
‘Fine.’ He said quietly and before he left, he looked over his shoulder and met my stare. ‘But if you don’t get yourself together, you’ll damn us all.’ Then he left.
‘Cryptic fucking bastard!’ I yelled and threw my knife, in my knife thigh holster, at the door.
The tip of the knife landed in the wooden door and made a wobbling sound. Damn fucking him.
I turned to see Brian and Christopher looking at me with a hard face. Oh, fuck. Now what did I do?
‘Not all vampires are honourless. Damned yes but honourless, no.’ Brian said quietly.
Are you bloody shitting me? Their hurt because I said vampires can screw you over even though they do but he was right. Not all vampires are honourless –just damned.
‘I’m sorry, it’s just I keep getting screwed over by vampires every fucking century.’ I said quietly.
Chris on the other hand, didn’t say a word. He just crossed his arms and looked back at Brian.
‘I’ll guard the door outside.’ He said. Then he walked out and he didn’t even look at me. Great. Fucking great.


Chapter 6

I walked in the hall in my get-up dress and my four inch black open-toed heels. Brian and Christopher followed behind me, wearing from head-to-toe leather and weapons surrounded most of their body. Even though my dress was all shiny and shimmery, it didn’t mean I didn’t have a few weapons here and there myself. On my thighs there were my thigh knife holster and my new shiny jewellery armbands, that was actually wrists blades, was covered in different colours of diamonds and followed intercut patterns like a Persian rug. It was beautiful and sparkly –what is there not to love about it. It’s pretty and lethal.
Every single master vampire of my City arrived along with everyone in their bloodlines –and surprisingly it wasn’t a lot. There was eight master vampires in total and each one of them sire no more than thirty vampires, which was pretty narrow since I imagined them to have sired hundreds and hundreds of vampires. All vampires were descendents from the seven Supremes –even me. Dragos, Dasolini, Astroga, Xeviar, Velarius, Balthazar and Dracuis. They were the seven bloodlines of the Supremes. They were all equally scary and all equally at the same power-level –why do you think they banded together instead of killing each other? There was one simple reason; because they can’t. If they try, all of them will just die side-by-side because they sure as shit won’t let the other one live if they beat them. Fuck, I wouldn’t even do that. I’d take the fucker down with me.
By law, when the new Mistress/Master of the City announces the title to the vampires, the Supreme of my bloodline must be there to bond the City and its Mistress together. My bloodline on my Vampiress side was of Dragos. This meant I get to be the lucky one and meet Supreme Dragos face-to-face while he ties the City to me. Humans may rule the world instead of the supernatural kind but the vampires ruled the supernatural kind. Don’t know why, it just is. Weird, right? It was probably the fact that vampires are always made out to be Edward Cullen and sparkle every time the sun hits them. Yeah, what a load of bullshit that is –oh, and bad pun was fully intended. It’s a real ego boost when a human ask them, ‘Hey dude, do you sparkle?’ Humans always tend to get the impression that vampires are a lot more human-friendly –which, again, is a complete and utter load of shit. Werewolves could be civilised –I mean, check out their teeth. And hey! Don’t forget the Feys, they’re great at tricking you. Why stop there? Hell, our local Archdemon are just about fuckin’ A when they own your soul.
Mircea went instantly at my side to show that he had alliance with me. His hand neatly tucked behind his back, he walked with no care in the world. The bastard had my protection as his Mistress. I had to protect him by the fucking law but the rules do say that I can punish my subjects –that was out of the question. I don’t punish for no reason. Unlike my sister, humanity actually means something to me.
Dragos was in one of those hooded robes. His was in the shade of deep red. His hood shadowed his face so I could only make out the outline. He had strong angular shape and pale pink lips. The pale complexion I can see was flawless. The other thing I saw except from the dramatic robe was his hands. It was fairly large with long strong fingers. A ring with a big blood-red diamond on it was wrapped around his middle finger. It looked medieval and plus the robe, it was just tackily melodramatic. Dragos radiated of power and age. It filled the room and intoxicated it.
‘Scarlet.’ He said pleasantly. His voice was deep and masculine.
I took his hand and kissed the ring. ‘My Supreme, it is an honour.’
‘I hope I didn’t dress a bit too melodramatic for this occasion.’ He said amusedly.
My eyes widened just a fracture but I regained composer quickly. ‘How...’
‘I’m a Supreme, child. My powers go beyond your wildest dreams.’
Which was true. They were the only vampires who could dematerialize and materialize from nothing but thin are. If that was only the tip-of-the-iceberg, I don’t want to know the rest of it. Quite frankly, power like that tends to leave me going apeshit paranoid.
‘I have no doubt.’ I replied.
‘Not going to lie about it? Or how you say, ‘ass-lick’ me?’
‘Lying would be a waste of breath since everyone in this room can smell a lie and as for the ass-licking? No. I get that already from those who aren’t trying to kill me. I have to say, I’m not liking it.’ I said honestly.
I could hear everyone in this room holding their breaths (not that they need one) of what I said to Dragos. Oh, fuck me. I should’ve just shut the fuck up. At least that won’t be entirely as fucked up as this. Shit. Did you know, the Supremes can torture you and make you last for at least a decade?
The room was filled with inquiring silence. Great.
‘Two decades actually. For an immortal, we could make the torture go on for eternity but since I find you amusing, I won’t do that.’ He said.
Who knew a Supreme can crack a so-not-funny joke?

Impressum

Texte: All of the mistakes that are in my book are mine and mine alone -Shia Naawl.
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 05.04.2011

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