Sorry it has
taken so long to post but I have been setting up Karl Clay Vetter Studios here in Mystic Canyon. You have got to love New Mexico you can build an art gallery or writing studio anywhere even in a remote canyon far from town. It's part of the fun trying to find them. I also have been reediting all three Crossbreed
books with new covers and updated interiors. The E-books are looking
much better and I will be producing paperbacks as well. I just got the
proofs in the mail I'm jazzed at seeing my stories in print. The
covers are awesome too. I am really stoked about this Blood Moon
story some day appearing in print. As always your eyes on my words
are greatly appreciated.
BLOOD MOON
SOCIAL CLUB
DEATH AND
DOMINATION EPISODE THIRTEEN
By Karl Clay
Vetter & C. Vetter
This is a work of
fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the
authors’ imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any
resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.
This story was
inspired by the fictional events and characters created at the Blood
Moon Social Club interactive theater. Produced and directed by Karl
Clay Vetter, C. Vetter and Patrick Foster.
The authors wish to
thank all the Blood Moon Social Club members for their outstanding
performances and support. The fictional characters in this story pay
homage to you each and every one. Proceeds from this book go toward
keeping the Blood Moon Social Club alive.
Copyright protected
© 2015 by Karl Clay Vetter and C. Vetter.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner
whatsoever without written permission of the creators, except in the
case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Unauthorized digital sharing is a punishable offense.
Technical support
Patrick Foster.
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CHAPTER 26 THE
SMOKING PELICAN
Strolling
along the beach with the cool sea breeze blowing across her bare
shoulders. Marilena almost forgot where she was, almost forgot she
was Sharky the slave girl in a bizarre vampire world. But then she
noticed Bret's furtive glances into the dense palm groves. On
occasion he would watch the lights of Cudacarumba, expecting an angry
mob to come charging after them with pitch forks and torches no
doubt. Aside from all that the walk back to the Catalina Cutlass was
calm, even romantic or it could have been had he taken the time to
notice her with the same intensity as he did the shadows.
She closed the
gap between them. “Are we being followed?”
“Can't tell
but it seems a little too quiet. What about you Barron picking up any
hostile thoughts?”
“No but the
trouble is I need to see my target in order to read thoughts.”
Norris sniffed
the air. “I can't smell anything because the wind is blowing in
from the ocean.”
“Want me to
go poke around in the bushes, Boss,” Andre volunteered.
“No, better
we all keep together. We're almost to the boat.”
Sharky sighed.
“Well I think it's a wonderful night. The stars are out and there's
a full moon.”
Everyone cast
their eyes upward at the dense cloud cover that had been present
everyday and night since their arrival.
Sharky
grinned. “Well a girl can dream can't she?”
Bret was not
amused at her attempts at levity. “There's the Cutlass, grab your
gear we head back now. Captain you take off and steer due east. I
want you away from here long before dawn.”
Norris
snorted. “How the hell do you tell if it's dawn the sun never comes
up?”
“Forget it.
Just follow that compass I gave you, and I'll give you a chart with
small islands to use as landmarks. From the air I'll see you and
flash you signals.”
Sharky entered
her cabin and glanced around for the few items she brought with her.
She was packed in three minutes. Thinking ahead she grabbed some
blood bags for the trip. She knew Bret was busy with the captain so
she went to his cabin to get his precocious gadget. She removed the
leather bound case and hung it over her shoulder then grabbed his
duffel bag. As she emerged on deck she heard Barron and Andre casting
off lines. She turned to look up at the wheel house and was hit in
the stomach. The force of the blow was a shock that brought her to
the brink of unconsciousness. She went down hard but managed to land
on the bags she carried. Someone pulled at the gadget case but it was
tangled around her body with the other bags. She gasped for air and
saw a dark figure standing over her. Instinctively she held onto the
case. The figure lifted her her up and shook her. She felt like a toy
in a rough puppy's mouth.
There was a
rush of wind and Bret appeared behind her captor. His face a horrible
mask of fangs and fury. Her attacker's throat ruptured and a warm
spray hit her in the eyes. She fell back to the deck and next Bret's
claws ripped open his rib cage. By now the boat was in pandemonium.
She heard the clash of steel and shouts of the crew. Attackers were
everywhere but all she could see was Bret’s monstrous face dripping
with gore.
***
Barron parried
his attacker's thrust and danced clear of the blade. He was fast and
strong as Vampires go. But nowhere near the warrior Bret was. His
mental abilities were profound but he never developed such incredible
speed and strength as Bret. However, he was not without skills in
combat. Now that he had an opponent eye to eye he scanned his
thoughts. It was evident this creature was on a mission to kill
everyone and steal the astrolabe.
Their blades
flashed and Barron held him at bay but no surface thoughts as to the
mastermind who ordered the attack. He had his suspicions but he
needed to be sure. Barron utilized a simple trick to probe further.
“So his Lordship sent his best to take our little device?” The
ploy worked, by asking the question he prompted his opponent to
visualize his master. The trick had a double benefit. A moments
hesitation cost him dearly for Barron trust for the unprotected
throat.
His attacker
gushed blood and sank to the deck. Barron twirled around to see Bret
eviscerating a second fighter. Norris had shifted to his most
powerful werewolf form and had torn two more apart. Their limbs lay
in a bloody heap at his feet. Andre better with a gun than a sword
was hacking at another. He was bleeding from several cuts, Barron
swooped in and struck from behind. As he dispatched Andre's foe he
saw anther going for Sharky.
The girl was
clutching the leather case under her left arm. The Vampire was
bearing down on her. She managed to draw her feeble knife and
threatened him with it. This only made him laugh and he made a grab
for the astrolabe. Her thrust was weak but she got her blade past his
long black coat and the tip cut his undead flesh. The wound was
superficial and drew very little blood. His evil laugh turned to
gurgling screams as he fell to his knees. The sounds were so
agonizing the battle came to near halt and his remaining comrades
turned to see what was happening. Green putrid slim spewed forth from
his small wound. The roiling decomposition spread and he melted into
a stinking pile of bones and rotting guts. This distraction turned
the tide, Bret and Norris made quick work of the remaining attackers.
Bret cleaned
his blade with a dead man's sleeve. He then lifted Sharky to her
feet. Nice work with that little stabber how did you do that?”
Her robe had
become disheveled in the fight it hung loose around her. “Tie me
back up I'm about to be naked here any second.”
Norris and
Andre cast lurid glances at her exposed body. Barron gazed long and
hard at her naked blade. “That is a wicked knife. It is etched with
lethal enchantments against all creatures of a magical nature. Where
did you get it?”
“It was a
gift,” was all she admitted to.
“He knew she
was protecting her friend for to give such a weapon to a mortal was a
serious offense. “Fear not little shark, Oleander's gift may well
save us again. Just don't touch any of us with it.”
She held it up
and squinted at the strange hieroglyphs along the blade. “You mean
this writing is what killed him?”
Bret finished
re-wrapping her slender body. “Yes that blade is very powerful and
if you get caught with it, a death sentence is what you'll get. So
keep it hidden.”
She held out
the leather case. “I was just protecting your gadget, here take it
back.”
He took it and
slung it over his shoulder then retrieved his duffel. “Thanks but
next time you get jumped don't risk your life, drop it and run.” He
turned to Barron. “Well so much for secrecy we better clear out
before Kazimir attacks again.”
“Not
Kazimir,” Barron corrected. “I gleaned an image of a female
giving the orders to this gang.”
Bret slammed
his fist into his open palm. “Sharlandra! Lord Kazimir had better
watch his back, if she's making moves without his knowledge. Still
that means we have a chance to get away, she has no ship to chase us.
We just have more enemies to deal with now. Well no matter, the plan
stays the same. You three move out, we have a balloon to catch.”
***
The walk back
was in no way romantic even though she finally had Bret all to
herself. Sharky was tired and feeling uneasy about her protectors
sailing away. She had no way of knowing what Bret would do to her
without them to rebuff him. A quick look over her shoulder saw the
Cutlass vanish into the mist and with it any sense of security. Her
attention was diverted back to the thick undergrowth. Bret was
pulling away dead branches from a fallen tree.
“What are
you doing?”
He lifted the
massive log and tossed it aside with a loud crash. Under it lay a
bundle wrapped in a remnant of canvas. “I just need to get
something before we go on.”
In an instant
she knew what it was. “You bastard! The leather case was a decoy? I
nearly died protecting an empty box?”
He grinned.
“Not empty.” He removed a colorful conch shell and replaced it
with the astrolabe. “Here keep it as a souvenir of your time on
Cudacarumba.”
She snatched
the big shell from him and hefted it, then dropped it in the sand.
“Not heavy enough to crack your skull.”
By the time
they climbed the steep road to the top of Gorgon's peek Sharky was
exhausted. She felt as if she'd been up all night and there was a
subtle brightness to the horizon that indicated dawn approaching.
Bret seemed not fatigued at all but she knew his feeding schedule
well and handed him a blood bag from her grip.
He sucked it
dry and tossed the bag. “Thanks but I hate'em cold.”
“Yeah well
go easy on them litterbug. I only have four more in here and when
they are gone you're not getting any from me.”
His cold blue
eye turned on her. “This will be a long trip. You mean you'd let me
starve before you would share a little of yours?”
“I told you
no fangs have ever bit me.”
“What about
that extraction kit you carry around?”
“Don't get
any ideas that is for donors not me. Beside don't you have a Kendy
babe in every port?”
He smiled. “I
can see you're worried about me but I'll manage.” Before she could
rebut he stopped and pointed. “There she is the Smoking Pelican.”
The craft
before them was three hundred feet in length and taller than a two
story house. It did not look like any modern dirigible she had ever
seen flying over the super bowl. Rather it was more of a elongated
hot air balloon with a long narrow gondola suspended from hundreds of
ropes. On closer examination the gondola was actually an old steam
boat that had been refitted for air travel. Billowing black smoke
poured from her stacks near the Pelican's stern. A pair of sails
jutted from her sides resembling giant dragonfly wings. “That thing
can actually fly?”
“She is slow
but true. Now if possible try not to arouse suspicion while I book
passage.”
“Me! You're
the one with a price on your head. Better let your obedient servant
handle the tickets and cover up that patch it's like a Vegas casino
sign. Play here big winnings-easy slots.”
***
The captain of
the Smoking Pelican resembled a grizzled character out of an old
black and white movie. His wrinkled mug was pasty with dark circles
under his sunken eyes. A long crooked beak of a nose hung from his
face. A permanent snarl drew back his thin lips exposing his dark
yellow fangs. A weathered hat was clamped down tight over a mop of
stringy gray hair. Under his long battered coat his torso was awkward
looking big and blocky it was held up with a pair of long matchstick
legs.
Sharky
approached with all proper humility while Bret pretended to admire
the craft they were about to board. As expected a servant buying
passage for her master to Komotogon raised no alarm. In fact the
captain hardly noticed her. That is until she inquired about the
accommodations. “The master would like two of your best cabins
please.”
“Well aren’t
we fancy, I don't have two best of anything.”
Realizing she
may have stumbled she quickly reversed. “Apologies good Sir. What
do you have available?” Careful not to look up she still felt his
burning stare.
“Slaves
sleep and eat in the hold. Passengers rest in births, I only have one
cabin and it's reserved for dignitaries. Now let's see your coin.”
She was
frightened by his course tone but held it in check. The pouch Bret
gave her jingled as she loosened the draw string and poured several
gold coins into her palm. They each had a crest stamped on them.
This caught
the captain’s eye. “Lord Kazimir's mint. Well now where did you
get those?”
It was all or
nothing now. “The master is a friend of Lord Kazimir and he values
his privacy.” She shook out more coins and was relived to see that
in Oceanus the same as Vegas, money talked.
“Your master
may have the cabin and you may stay with him but you'll eat below
with the others.” He took her money and handed her a skeleton key.
“Tell your master with good winds we'll reach Komotogon in three
days.”
Sharky bowed
her head and backed away. Elated at first at how well she'd handled
it. Then a pang of paranoia struck and she wondered if it was too
easy. As they climbed on board the steam powered blimp she felt
trapped like a mouse in a canoe full of cats. Aside from Bret and the
captain she saw three more vampires. One cruel looking brute who
worked for the captain and rode roughshod over the human slave crew.
And two others the short fussy male fidgeting with his well groomed
mustache, was attired in fine Victorian garb as a gentleman of
leisure. He wore a fine forest green waistcoat over a vest and black
paints.
The female was
different from the vampire women she'd seen thus far. Garbed not in
an elegant gown of the times but rather a sporting suit. Black riding
boots, dark brown pants and a double breasted button down leather
jacket. Her outfit was crowned with a smart pilot's cap an goggles.
Her apparent
age was in the early twenties although she could be well into the
hundreds. Briefly her sparkling emerald eyes flashed over Sharky's
way but then landed and stayed on Bret. The girl was leaning casually
against the railing as he strolled past her. She removed her cap and
ruffed her boyish-cut cinnabar hair, before retuning it to its jaunty
perch. A flirtatious gesture no doubt prompted by the rakish Bret
acting as if he did not notice her.
Sharky's
mortal blood began to heat up. “He may have only one eye but it
never misses anything,” she thought.
So there she
was the green-eyed, red-headed heroine from all those trashy romance
stories she'd read. An immortal goddess; forever young, beautiful and
rebellious. They had not been introduced yet, and already she hated
her.
CHAPTER 27 THE
DUKE OF ORLEANS
“The bird is
aloft!” Norris held his massive binoculars at maximum zoom. The
rising blimp was just a tiny blur in his view. “Can't tell if they
made it on but the bird is up.”
Barron held
the wheel steady east as the compass indicated. “Bret said he would
signal. You may have to watch a long time.”
“Right, you
and Andre can switch off on the wheel. I just hope we have enough
fuel to get us to this Komotogon island.”
Andre hauled
his bulk up the ladder into the wheel house. “I just put another
ten gallons in. What do we do when it runs out?”
“Vegetable
oil my friend, good old cooking oil. If we can't find it we'll make
it. All I need do is some adjustments to the fuel system. I have a
conversion kit I bought on line a long time back but just haven't
installed it yet. I also have the batteries set up on solar panels
but they aren't working too good right now. Fortunately, the
generator is keeping them powered up.”
Barron looked
out towards where Norris was watching. “Can you determine if
they're at least coming this way?” There was a long pause.
“Well they
sure aren't getting smaller... yes I'm certain she's coming right for
us.”
***
“Well it's a
cozy nest.” Bret's subtle attempt to make the best fell flat.
“Wow this is
reserved for dignitaries?” Sharky gave the cabin a once over and
was not impressed. The room was twelve by twelve with a small bunk. A
rickety old chest for belongings and little else. “There's not even
a shower.”
Bret shrugged.
“A Princess cruise liner the Pelican is not. But you can bring
water in from the galley and use that basin bowl to wash up. You're
probably starving too so go get some food. I'll scout around on deck.
I need to signal Norris that we got aboard. Stow the gear in that
trunk the gadget will be safe for now. Where would a thief run with
it?”
“Right and
I'm pretty tired so I'll take first dibs on the bed. Wake me up when
you need to rest.”
Bret glanced
at the bunk then back at her. He was no mind reader but the look in
her dark brown eyes told him all he needed to know about her
feelings. Encouraging her while enticing was also a demanding
distraction he didn't need. “That's a good idea one of us should
always be on watch.” He backed out the door and went on deck.
He needed to
find a quiet obscure place to scout for the Cutlass and since they
were ahead of the Pelican he went straight for the bow. It was easy
to see why the Pelican had been chosen as the gondola. She had been a
long sleek pleasure yacht in her day. She was low and fast making her
ideal for air travel. The steam engine now produced hot air to fill
her four huge air chambers and turned the prop to provide thrust.
Water was a key component in steam locomotion technology and they
could never carry enough to make the flight to Komotogon. This meant
she had to skim the ocean surface below from time to time and fill
the holding tanks. This also meant she had to stay low in altitude,
with luck the fog would be thin and he could spot the Cutlass. Half
way there he ran into his first obstacle.
“Ah our
mysterious companion has emerged. The vampire in the dark green coat
gave a curt nod and flicked his mustache. “I am Jean-Henri Duke of
Orleans V, and you Sir?”
“Bret.”
The Duke
paused waiting for more. When it didn't come he lumber on. “So
glade to have you aboard perhaps you'll join us for refreshments
later? The lounge is dreadfully lacking for entertainment. However,
lively banter could help pass the time? ”
“Perhaps.”
“You'll
pardon Henri, but he's desperate to find out who you are ever since
you boarded. The prospect of drifting up here for three days with
nothing to do is positively horrifying to him.”
Bret turned to
face the green eyed beauty. “The winds are shifting it will be four
days at best. Perhaps if Henri had a useful purpose his desperation
would fade.”
She smiled her
perfect little fangs. “I don't think this trip will be boring in
the least”
***
Sharky sat on
the bunk contemplating what to do next. She didn't like the fact that
Bret had simply dumped her and went off on his own. She realized he
wasn't going to be reliable or attentive to her needs. And right now
she had several needs; food, water and a bath to start. She looked
herself over and discovered she still had blood spatter from the
fight at the Cutlass. She pulled it together and went outside. The
hatch to the lower hold was twenty feet from her cabin she opened it
and started down. The first thing to hit her was the stench. Choking,
nauseating the overpowering combination of human wast and
decomposition.
It took her
several minutes to get control of her gag reflex. Then she ventured
forth, the flickering illumination of old oil lamps cast a yellowish
light throughout the hold. It was quiet save for the intermittent
moan of anguish. Once her eyes adjusted she saw a dozen slaves
huddled on wooden benches all were shackled. Most were female and all
bore fang marks on their arms and throats.
“We're full
up you'll have to sit on the floor.”
She was
startled by the voice and spun around to face a haggered little man
with a scraggly beard and matted hair. “Oh, no need. I just came
for water and some food. I'll take it back to my cabin.”
He stared at
her in disbelief. “Your cabin?”
“Yes I mean
my master's cabin. I stay with him.”
“You must be
very high born to have such a benevolent lord?”
“Oh yeah
he's all kinds of benevolent. How about some food, please?”
The little man
scurried to a pot of boiled roots resembling turnips he dipped her
two and put them on a tray with some stale bread. He then filled a
pail with water from a barrel. “Will this do for you?”
“Yes thank
you. What is your name?”
“Handy,
cause I'm always on hand to help. If you need anything you call old
Handy.”
“Thanks I
will. Do you run the galley?”
“I cook and
fix what's broken old Handy does most everything around here. I get
paid good too the captain lets me keep most of my blood.”
She looked
around at the squalid conditions. “Yeah I can see he's a real
prince. Where are they going?” Indicating the slaves.
Oh they are
tribute from the lords who sail under Admiral Rainhaven's flag. They
were captured or collected as taxes. Each lord keeps some of the
booty then the rest is shipped to Komotogon.”
What's that
back there?”
“Storage and
my bunk. Then up front there is a small cabin but we use it for the
brig now should any one get out of hand First Mate Skelton slaps the
collar on them and chains them in there.” He pointed at an iron
collar with inward pointing spikes hanging on the door of the
makeshift prison.
“When you
say them you mean us humans?”
Handy lowered
his eyes. “Can I get you more bread?”
The stench was
burning her eyes and it took all her will not to scream. “No thank
you. Well it was nice talking with you but I need to get back. His
Lordship will beat me if I dally too long.”
Handy
grimaced. “He's a tough one is he?”
“Yes he is,
not a kind bone in his body. They call him Bret the Butcher.” She
noticed that the slaves were all quietly eavesdropping. “He's got
the temper of a berserk viking. You never want his anger unleashed
it's a terrible thing to behold.” She suppressed a smirk and left.
Handy bobbed
his head and shuffled behind her, “Anything you want just call old
Handy, anything at all.”
As she crossed
the open deck to the cabin she heard the tinkling of a girl's
laughter. She glanced around and saw Green eyes grinning at Bret. The
muscles in her jaw tightened as she took her bread and water into the
cabin and closed the door.
***
After an hour
Bret finally maneuvered himself from the clutches of the Duke and his
companion. He reached the far point of the bow and scanned the
horizon. The clouds were low and thick fog drifts rolled along the
surface of the great sea below. Spotting the Cutlass under those
conditions was difficult enough but having one eye made it more so.
He reach up and stroked the eye patch. One little peek with the other
eye and he could see so much more.
“Enjoying
the view?”
Without
looking around Bret answered the question. “Yes Captain very much.”
There was a
grumble. “How did you know it was me we've not been introduced?”
He did not cloak the fact that he was insulted by the slight.
Bret turned
and greeted him with a smile. But he did not apologies instead he
turned the captain's ire on to someone else. “I just endured an
hour of Henri's shrill chirping I knew it couldn't be him. And he
told me of everyone on board.”
“I know what
you mean I must listen to his caterwauling every evening in the
lounge. What a pontificating buffoon.”
Bret laughed.
“oh how you must suffer.”
“you have no
idea. I'm Captain Rollings, should you need anything I'm at your
service.”
“Call me
Bret and I thank you Sir. If it's no inconvenience I only ask that my
servant Sharky be allowed to come and go as I need? She is more than
just a slave too me.”
“Well,” he
paused for thought. “I don't like giving the flock too much
privilege it breeds insolence. The practice of elevating some to a
high born status my fit well in a Lord's mansion but out here we
frown on it, but in your case I'll make an exception.”
“You are
most understanding, I'll see to it she doesn’t get out of line.”
“Very good
then. I shall leave you to your contemplations.”
Bret watched
as he walked away. Then noticed the first mate in the wheel house had
a clear view of where he was standing. This would never do for
signaling Norris. He would have to find another way.
He was mindful
of encountering the Duke of Orleans again so he went around to the
port side and entered his cabin. A single lamp lit the small room. It
had been turned down low to a near smolder. Sharky was lying in the
center of the bunk. Her long dark hair flowing out over the pillow.
She had removed her robe and laid it out like a blanket. The silky
fabric clung to her body leaving the impression that she was nude
underneath.
Bret's intense
gaze pierced the gloom. “I see you've settled in.”
“Oh yes,
first I took a nice long soak in the hot tub. Then I had room service
send me up a delicious prime rib with salad and a baked potato. It
was cooked just the way I like it, bloody rare.”
Near the wash
basin was a tin plate littered with bread crumbs and a half eaten
turnip. “Been dreaming of Vegas again?” In the low light her
pale complexion and dark eyes gave the appearance of a vampire.
Despite appearances her warm body and human desires pulled forth a
deeply buried longing he'd forgotten ages ago. The need to be held in
a woman's loving embrace. He quickly erased it from his mind before
it led to something out of his control.
Her voice was
a throaty purr.“Now don't you worry about me the accommodations are
just fine.” In spite of her playful mood and tone her black pupils
were like the twin barrels of smoking .45s. “So how did it go with
the signal?”
“It didn't,
everyone can see me on the bow.”
“Oh that's
too bad, well maybe Tinkerbell can cover for you? Why don't you go
see?”
He smirked at
her. “Yeah, here we go. You have some nutty notion that you and I
are romantically involved. Well this isn't one of your romance
novels. I'm not the dashing rake who kidnaps the innocent maiden.”
The mounds of
her breasts heaved under the shimmering dragons face. “You're
right, but this isn’t that kind of story, it's a dark tale of
horror. You see I'm the roguish villain and you must face your
greatest fears. I own you, just like those poor souls down in that
stinking hole. You do what I want. I'm not your helpless concubine
it's the other way around.” Under the dragon her hand moved
seductively lower.
A crooked
smile torqued his lips. “Is that how you see it? Well no woman has
ever controlled me or owned me. Do you understand that?”
She pulled the
cover up over her pouting lips. Her voice changed to a mocking
whimper. “Oh of course Bret, you're so strong and so inhumanly
fast. No one could ever dominate you.”
His face
darkened. “You just never quit do you?” His body began to shiver
and vibrate until it was a blur. Suddenly, his clothes shed like dry
leaves and fell onto the floor. Then he was still again standing
before her naked. “Don't get the wrong idea about what's going to
happen here. You are the one that should be afraid.”
She pulled her
silken cover back giving him just a glimpse.
“Whatever
you say your Lordship.”
Has Sharky lain
with the Devil? Will her obsession with Bret be her undoing find out
next time in chapters 28 A hand shake deal and 29 Captain Sharky.
Thank you for
reading your humble purveyor Karl Clay Vetter.
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