Chapter 51

Blane was ready, he chose his last outfit, and it was fit for a king, straight out of the fifteenth century. His tunic was of the finest velvet with his family emblem on the chest. It was a falcon holding a sword in one talon and a rose.

As a lark, he wore his chainmail, hoping to give the monster a gut ache before it died. He sang a little tune as he was coming up on the house…

“If you have nausea, heartburn, indigestion, upset stomach, diarrhea….”

His final act of atonement was not this moment, though; nope, he had one more surprise in store for the world after he was gone, a little gift to Michael for being his only friend.

He was silent now as he stood at the bottom of the steps leading to the house where the monster awaited. He couldn’t help thinking back on all of his life and what a mess he’d made of it all, of all the good he had done only to be erased by all the bad.

He had gained power, money, knowledge, and seen things no one will ever see again. He traveled everywhere there was to travel and then did it again. The one thing he wanted the most in his long life that had always eluded him was love and family.

With a sigh, he thought of all the last-minute things that had to be done and knew that it no longer mattered what he had gained. It was all worthless in the end, without love, without someone to carry on the memory of your life, to continue your legacy.

He started up the steps with a sigh; it was just Blane. Now, long gone now was the Ghost and the Wraith. He could feel the cold of the potion working through his veins and the spell waiting for that final moment to take the actual victim. He was just the poisoned meat.

Upon entering the living room where it waited, it had grown to triple in size, which surprised Blane but didn’t stop him. He went over to the couch and sat down in a leisurely position.

“Well, I must say, darling, you are looking horrible, for someone as vain as you were, didn’t anyone guess your little secret. That you are nothing but a filthy mutt.”

His taunt worked. Its beady eyes were focused on him, and in that second of time, just before he knew it would strike, he closed his eyes and whispered…Finally.

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Upon hearing the door open, the demon was in a deep sleep, not expecting anyone this soon. That was fine, though, because it was ready for its next and final stage. Whoever the stupid idiot was coming down the hall would soon regret their curiosity.

The door to the room it was in creaked open, and what looked like a knight from the old days came inside; it could tell it was a vampire, which was good for her. She was almost drooling now; supernatural beings made the best meals.

Of all the arrogance, the Vampire went and just sat down on the couch like it didn’t even consider it a threat! He will soon pay for that mistake, and then out of its horrible mouth came the worst of insults…mutt.

With one swift movement, she had bit off its head and swallowed it in one gulp; then, before its body could fall to the floor, she ate it, couch and all.

Almost immediately, she started to feel funny, her stomach began to make terrible noises, and she could feel her insides growing cold; the pain in her abdomen felt like she was being split in two.

She fell to the floor screeching in agony as she started to bloat, then with a sickening loud plop, she exploded all over the room with green ooze. It was the end of the would-be SkinWalker.

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Michael could feel his friend’s life end and knew that he had to swing into action fast. He was ready, and so were six of his trusted guards. They waited on the far end of the drive, just out of sight.

They ran up to the mansion and immediately set to work burning the place to the ground; nothing could be left of it when they were done, only ashes.

As the blaze burned high, Michael sent out a prayer for Blane that he would find peace and redemption wherever he ended up in the next life. He then held a red rose high to the sky, looked up, and tossed it into the fire.

He walked home with a heavy heart and mind lost in time, leaving his men to complete the task. He felt heavy-hearted. Yes, Blane did deserve death. He killed too many to be forgiven of that sin. Still, he couldn’t help thinking of how things could have been.

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Noah and Daisy watched as Michael came through the door; he didn’t look like himself; he walked by them as if not even seeing them. He went straight over to the little nook by the window, sat down, and stared out the window.

Garret, looking concerned, handed Noah two drinks: plain whiskey and blood. He motioned for Noah to go over to him and see if he could find out what happened.

Daisy ran over to him first before Noah had time to pick up the drinks. She didn’t say anything to him; she wrapped her arms around him and held him tight.

“It is ok little one. I am fine, I am grieving for an old friend, or perhaps I am grieving for what might have been.”

“The last demon is dead, and Blane took it out. The mansion is burning into ashes, and a serial killer has paid for his crimes. I sometimes wonder about time; it is such a fickle creature.”

“I have lived a long time, and in that time, I have seen time come to a standstill or go fast, but there are times when it goes so fast that everything seems to happen in an instant, and it is hard to catch your breath.”

Noah handed him the drink, and he gulped it down. Then handed it back to Noah for another.

“More blood and less liquor this time, Garret.”

Garret nodded his head and reached for one of the taller glasses. Then he brought it over himself to his old friend and master. He knew how Michael felt before he met Enid. He thought that he had lived too long.

The weight of the long years gets heavier and heavier as time goes on, especially if you are alone. Garret at least found Enid, and maybe Michael will find another mate to make him happy. If not, he is going to be busy with triplets for grandchildren.

Michael finally felt better and was about to leave his daughter’s embrace when he heard the most beautiful thing in the world, three heartbeats. It was his grandbabies; he smiled and held her closer for just a little bit more because time was fickle. Before, he hated time and didn’t want any of it; now, all he could do was pray for more.

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In the dark corridors of the castle’s east wing, two vampires watched and waited in their growing anger.

Everything was ready. They just waited for when it would be announced that the ball would be reinstated. It was all planned, and they were sure that it would all work according to the plan they had set out.

They had to push the King to open the ball again; they had to play nice because they didn’t want to tip their hand. They were determined to ensure those terrible creatures would not inherit the kingdom.

While watching in disgust at how they interacted with their servants and other members of the lower court or taking in that stupid woman and her brat of a kid, this was not how things would run around here. As if they were equals, there is nothing equal about the lower classes and there is no way a servant will ever be equal.

This kind of thinking must be squashed out of thoughts before it starts to infect the whole community.