Eve Langlais
Toxic
Blood Countess series 1, 2011
Blurb
Humans are for eating and I am not one to play with my food, so I’m baffled as to why one geeky mortal doctor makes me wish our kind could be together without my brand of love being toxic. As if suffering from human emotions isn’t problem enough, our world is about to engage in a war where our chances of survival are slim at best. And no one wants to listen.
But, I didn’t become the general of the vampire Queen’s army by being diplomatic. Everyone will fight in the upcoming battle, or they’ll feed my troops and me. Either way, all things living will do their part.
I am, after all, the Blood Countess: toxic lover to humans, vicious bitch to my enemies, and my word is law.
Chapter One
I tapped the microphone and winced at the screeching feedback. I still couldn’t believe I’d ended up roped into doing a press conference-I would have preferred a visit to a sadistic dentist. But my wish for physical pain went unheeded and the moment of truth, so to speak, had arrived.
“Um, hi there, thanks for coming.” Nervousness, an unfamiliar feeling, made me fidget in front of the sea of reporters watching with disinterested faces.
I inhaled deep and said in a rush. “I’m a vampire.” My declaration made, I stood back and waited for their reaction-and even yummier, their fear. I’d actually prepared a speech, a long flowery thing with historic references to precede my coming out announcement. However, faced with humans who spent more time looking at their BlackBerries than me, I changed my mind. Besides, I preferred getting straight to the point.
My admission definitely caused a reaction in the crowd. They tittered and shuffled in their seats, turning to grin and whisper at each other. I returned their mirth with a glacial stare.
One smirking fellow called out, “Gee, I’m so scared. Please don’t eat me.” He laughed at his own weak joke. I didn’t. And the man-courting a death measured in heartbeats-decided to further his comedic career. “So, did you get your teeth filed at the same dentist as that other vampire charlatan?” Guffaws and high fives met his mediocre humor. I still wasn’t amused.
I knew of the fake vampire he spoke of. He and the other charlatans of my kind would be
I had a joke for them.
My nails elongated and dug into the wood of the podium creating deep gouges. My eyes bled black, I couldn’t stop them as my ire grew, feeding my dark side. A few of the reporters squirmed under my gaze and went silent, but others met my eyes and instead of the flinching I’d grown accustomed to, roared louder.
My face tightened and I pursed my lips.
“I don’t usually give warnings but in this case, given what I’m trying to accomplish, I will. Cease this laughter before I make you all-” I paused seeking something suitably nasty without being harmful-I was well aware of the cameras trained on me, just waiting for a misstep they could broadcast to millions. “Um, if you don’t listen, I’ll make you cluck like chickens.”
Wrong answer. Waves of fresh laughter erupted. I fumed as my plan for my grand come out was buried in a sea of mirth and disbelief.
Standing up, I felt my power, cultivated over centuries and made greater by an obscene amount of kills, race through my body. I drew upon it with my will, my indomitable will, and then used it.
“Quiet,” I boomed, my voice echoing out like a sound wave and stunning them into abrupt silence. Wide eyes stared at me, they had no other choice. I’d frozen them in place with the esoteric force I wielded. I levitated up and over the podium because the time, it seemed, had arrived for a more up close and personal chat. I sank gracefully down to the ground directly in front of the first row of humans. I flicked at a piece of lint that dared mar the sleek black leather I wore. Cliche, but I enjoyed the suppleness and look of skin-tight leather. And the blood came off it nicely, too, for the times my dinner fought me.
I beamed widely at the reporters, my fangs-all natural of course-flashing as I let them drop from my gums. “Now, as I was saying, I am a vampire, and not just any vampire. I am the Queen’s general, her most loyal servant and spokesperson.”
I released my will and like puppets with their strings cut loose, several of the crowd slumped. One reporter, his eyes wild with fear-my favorite look after adoration-stumbled from his chair and raced out of the room. The rest of the reporters, though, gathered their resolve and leaned forward raptly, the scent of a story,
Questions suddenly ambushed me from all sides. I frowned at them, my expression much like the one a parent bestows upon unruly children and they immediately silenced. One reporter, a petite female, raised her hand timidly.
I inclined my head with a cool smile. “Go ahead.”
“Who are you?”
“I was known during my human life as Countess Elizabeth Bathory. But, isn’t the better question, why am I here announcing my existence and that of my brethren?”
The humans leaned forward.
“We are tired of hiding our nature. The introduction of blood banks and willing donors has made it unnecessary for us to conceal ourselves anymore.” What a crock of crap. The real truth I hid, for I didn’t think the humans were ready to hear of the coming war that would see their numbers decimated if my kind did not step in to help. Even as it galled me, I’d come to the realization-with the forceful prodding of my queen-that we didn’t have a choice but to team up with the humans to save them. We were talking, after all, about our food source here. If they died, I’d go hungry. A hungry vampire translated into a grumpy vampire, which, as any idiot could figure out, was not a good idea.
The same brave woman who’d asked my name fluttered her hand again and I nodded at her to speak. “But aren’t you afraid that people will panic at the news of your existence and hunt your kind?”
I smiled, not a very nice smile judging by the blanching faces and the way they leaned back from me. I even heard a whimper-how sweet. “Might I suggest that any attempts to cull my kind will be considered an act of war. And trust me,” I said angling forward and lowering my voice. “You
An older gent at the back lifted a hand. “Are you the countess that history claims bathed in the blood of