Chapter 2 - Keith

Chevalier appeared in the barn as the dodge pickup spun out and pulled away from the ranch quickly. He instantly picked up the smell of numerous heku and frowned. Jerry was right, the smell was disturbing and out of the ordinary. He soon found the mentioned coal shed and reached down to touch the ashes, then brought some to his nose and smelled it before dropping them back onto the floor.

He went back into the barn and looked up toward the loft. He climbed the ladder quickly and his eyes narrowed as he caught the fresh scent of a wild heku, one of his own kind that had turned themselves over completely to their instincts, leaving all signs of humanity behind them. He ran back to his car and called the Council to fill them in on what he’d seen so far. They instructed him to try to get more information, so he sat back to wait for morning. Emily’s husband return early in the morning, but he continued to wait for her.

Chevalier saw her truck return to the ranch shortly after dawn and he got out of his car, almost immediately appearing in the barn’s loft. He sat on a cot and watched out the small window that overlooked the house.

She pulled the truck up in front of the ranch house and jumped out, smiling widely as she ran to the front steps. Seated there was an elderly man with an archaic Stetson perched crookedly on his head. He was slumped over slightly in a wheelchair.

Emily bent down, “I’m back, Dad.”

His eyes stared far off, empty, and unfocused. He didn’t move as she pulled a blanket from beside him and wrapped it around his shoulders. She kissed him lightly on the cheek and then stood to greet another man who was walking toward her.

“Hiya, Sam.”

“Ms. Em, good to have ya back.” He stopped just short of the steps and smiled up at her. The man looked almost the same age as Emily’s Dad. He was short and stout with overalls and a dusty hat that made him blend into the scene. He took his hat off and fidgeted with it.

“Sam, what’s wrong?”

“Der’s a spook up on the lower 20. I tell Mr. Keith, but he say it jus a coyote but, Ma’am, I ain’t never seen a coyote that done hid like dis did. Almos cause a stampede.”

“I’ll go check it out, get Patra ready,” she told him, crouching back down by her dad.

“Duty calls,” she said, and kissed his cheek again lightly.

Sam almost ran toward the barn, seemingly afraid to turn around and face the house.

Emily turned to the house, squared her shoulders, and walked in, shutting the door behind her softly.

He hit with no warning. He grabbed her left wrist and twisted her arm behind her back, then shoved her hard against the door, sending the door handle painfully into her ribs, “I called you last night, you didn’t answer,” Keith hissed, his face just inches from her. “Who were you with?”

Through the pain, she managed to gasp, “Stop it.”

Keith twisted her wrist harder and slammed his body into hers again, smiling when she screamed out in pain, “Tell me.”

“I couldn’t sleep, I went to do some work at the office, I swear,” she said, unable to move. The pain made her breathing shallow and strained.

He thought about it for a moment and then released her, a grin spreading across his face, “Well why didn’t you say so? Good to see you!”

She took a step away from him as he reached out and pushed her hard to the floor. As she pulled herself back up, he sat at the table and began to eat.

Leaning against the door, she caught her breath and then turned and went into the bedroom. She threw on a warm flannel shirt, grabbed her leather gloves and cowboy hat, and tried to make a break for the front door, rubbing her wrist absentmindedly.

“Where you going?” he asked, pouring clear liquid from a flask into his Coke. Keith was older than Emily, and his face showed the hardened skin of someone who worked outdoors. He was of average height but was well built and sported a dark famer’s tan.

“I am taking Patra out,” she said, and reached for the door handle, hoping that was the last of it.

Keith laughed ostentatiously, “I’ve been alone for 4 days… mostly.” His grin got wider, “I don’t see you staying to take care of me.”

She didn’t reply as she left and made her way to the barn. Waiting for her was the beautiful painted mare, who shook her large head swiftly when she saw Emily approach. Emily grabbed Patra’s large head and pressed her forehead and nose into the soft velvet of the horse’s muzzle. After a few seconds, she jumped onto the mare’s back and headed her out of the barn.

Emily waved to Sam, who was taking her father back inside the house as a cold rain began to drizzle. She clicked her tongue twice, and Patra began to walk slowly south. She had a long Remington lying across her lap with the Blue Healer and a Border collie following behind her.

Emily was just enjoying her freedom. The dogs were loping along, exploring, as Patra broke into a gallop. The wind tugged at her long red ponytail and she shut her eyes to savor the feel of the wind and the smell of the hay. As she approached the south twenty, she slowed the horse to a walk and dismounted to open the gate.

Her body froze as the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

Someone was watching.

“Who’s there?” she asked in as calm a voice as she could muster.

The dogs were crouched on their bellies, and Patra was snorting and shying. She took the horse by her bridle and attempted to calm her. The feeling passed as suddenly as it had begun and she climbed back onto the mare.

She led Patra to the trees and scanned the forest for any movement, but didn’t see anything. She slowly made her way to a large clearing and lifted her rifle, using the scope to more closely look around. Things were quiet, only a gopher was visible, and there were no signs of a coyote.

Emily rode for the rest of the afternoon, not seeing nor feeling anything else out of the ordinary, just enjoying the feel of the powerful animal between her legs, moving her to command. The slightest pressure from a knee or heel was all she needed. The dogs bounced and played, chasing jackrabbits and flushing birds.

She neared the ranch house as the sun was about to set and she felt her heart rise in her throat. She knew what she had to do tonight, and felt the dread rising. She’d had four days of peace and quiet, and she realized that now was the time to pay for that solitude.

Emily took her time unhooking the saddle and putting it back on the stand. She brushed Patra carefully and enjoyed the quietness of the barn.

Just as she was locking the mare’s stall door, Keith’s arms wrapped tightly around her waist, “Welcome back, Emi.”

She pulled away from him and headed back to the ranch house.

“Your Dad’s asleep, we have the night to ourselves,” Keith said, placing his hand on the small of her back.

Emily nodded, “Let me get a hot shower and a bite to eat and I’ll be ready.”

Keith swept her off her feet and carried her quickly into the house, “You know I like the scent of a woman.”

Emily winced as he threw her down on the bed.

***

She crawled out of the bed when Keith began to snore. The hot water from the shower felt amazing, and she took longer than usual to finish up. Throwing on a robe, Emily went to the refrigerator and opened it. She scanned inside, but didn’t find anything interesting to eat. Grabbing a piece of cheese, she shut the door and turned around.

“Hello, again,” Chevalier said to her from the dark shadows of the kitchen.

Emily gasped and covered her mouth with her hand to stop from screaming.

“Surely, you can find something better to eat than that,” he said, stepping out of the shadow toward her.

“You can’t be here!” Emily whispered, and glanced toward the bedroom door.

“I can be anywhere I want,” he told her, raising his eyebrows and grinning.

Emily ran to him and put her hands against his chest, trying to push him out the door, “Please get out.”

The feel of her hands on his chest sent a shiver through his body and made his mind whirl. He steadied himself as she pushed against him as hard as she could. He didn’t budge.

“Get out,” she whispered again. Emily looked at the bedroom door in a panic as the snoring stopped.

She felt a rush of air and found herself in the barn, and she staggered from the change. Chevalier gently steadied her with his hand.

Emily looked around as Patra whinnied loudly at the sudden intrusion.

She peeked out the door of the barn toward the house. Chevalier stood, watching her.

“You can’t be here, please go,” she said, still watching the house with one hand perched on the barn door.

“Let me see, Child,” Chevalier said. He reached out and took her hand, examining her wrist.

She tried to pull her hand away from him, but he didn’t release it.

“Let go,” she demanded.

His eyes grew darker as he gently touched her swollen wrist and bruised hand, and she pulled harder against his hand.

“Interesting,” he said, letting go of her wrist.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m interested in how you know my kind. I’d like to talk,” he said, sitting down on a chair shaped stack of hay.

“I can’t, you’re just going to cause me trouble,” she said as she instinctively felt her sore ribs where the door handle hit her earlier.

“Yes I see that, I can take care of him easily enough,” he said, and grinned, hoping she would take him up on his offer.

“No!” she shouted, and her eyes were afraid. “Just leave, please.”

Chevalier held his hand up and inhaled, his eyes suddenly scanning the barn.

“What?” she looked around.

“Hush, Child,” he whispered. He stood and sniffed the air again, finding a trail up into the loft of the barn. He climbed the ladder as Emily watched him curiously.

She sighed as he disappeared into the loft, then looked around and wrapped her robe tighter around her. The barn was cold from the recent rain. Emily went and held Patra, the warmth from the horse helped keep away the chills.

Chevalier could smell the foul beast from below, the stench of one of his own kind that let themselves be overcome by their own desires, no control, no caring. He breathed in the disgusting odor and moved closer. He wasn’t far into the loft before he saw the hay quivering slightly.

“Get out, wild one,” he hissed, and the shivering bump in the hay became still.

He heard a low growl.

Chevalier crouched, his hands balling into fists, “Now, or I will kill you in there.”

The feral heku emerged. He was stooped low and covered only with a torn loincloth. He was dirty and had gashes across his skin, his hair was matted on top of his head and his teeth were chipped and black.

“This is my farm, leave!” he hissed at Chevalier.

“You have no rights to this place.” Chevalier stood tall and looked at the vile heku.

“Mine, mine, mine,” the heku chanted. “The man is mine.”

“How long have you fed on the man here?”

“Mine, mine for 50 years.” The chanting was getting on Chevalier’s nerves.

“With his permission?”

“Mine… mine… mine… always.”

“Tell me,” Chevalier growled, moving closer to the other.

“I don’t need his permission, he is mine!” the wild heku said, and took a step away as he noticed Chevalier’s intense eyes.

“That’s enough of a confession for me. As Chief Enforcer, I hereby banish you,” Chevalier growled.

“Nooooo! No banishment for me,” he begged.

Chevalier pulled a small dagger from his pocket, poked his finger, and let a drop of blood fall. The growls and begging from the wild heku turned to screams that pierced the night. He could hear the horses kicking in their stalls and the cows running away from the sound. The wild one turned to ash before him, and Chevalier fell to his knees. Such magic took a lot from the Enforcer, and he steadied himself against the hay.

He listened intently and barely picked up the sound of Emily disappearing into the house. He sighed and sat down on the hay, out of breath. As Chief Enforcer of his heku faction, he was able to perform magic that others couldn’t, but at considerable risk to himself. He shut his eyes and meditated, listening to the sound of the wind through the barn roof. When he felt strong enough, he stood up and scraped the ashes from the loft floor into a small leather bag and cinched it tightly.

***

Chevalier sat in his place on the Council, the 13 highest-ranking heku of his faction. He watched over the proceedings knowing his turn was coming. As much as he wanted to concentrate on the trial at hand, he found it hard with Emily alone on the ranch. Part of why the Council was addressing him, he figured. Storm, one of the high ranking heku in Chevalier’s coven, sat in the audience and watched him eagerly.

“Chief Enforcer, it is your turn to take the stand,” the only female on the Council said. She was Selest, one of the 3 Elders of the Equites.

Chevalier stood and took his place, facing the Council.

“Chief Enforcer, we were told you encountered a situation that you found may need our further attention.” Selest said to him, and then sat down.

“Yes, Elder, I have. I followed up on the report from Jerry and found a young mortal woman who seems to have been plagued by our kind for most of her life. I even found a wild one hiding in her barn that has been feeding off of her father,” he explained.

“Is the father a willing donor?”

“No, the father is in no shape to make any decisions. From what I have seen, he’s no longer able to speak and seems to be unaware of his surroundings.” There was a hiss through the Council.

“This wild one was feeding on a mortal invalid?” the tallest Elder asked.

“Yes, for 50 years he’s been on the ranch and has been feeding on the father for quite some time, Elder Leonid.” Chevalier’s voice was disappointed.

“And did you banish this wild one?”

He nodded, “I did.”

“Then your job there is finished?” the third Elder, Maleth, asked.

“I want to continue to study the woman. There’s something strange about her. Her blood doesn’t smell like others… it’s sweeter and with all of the attacks in her past I am afraid her exquisite scent may cause further attacks.” He kept his immense desire to protect her to himself.

“It’s abhorrent what has happened to this mortal child. We envision a life where mortals no longer fear us and attacks such as these undermine our progress,” Leonid said.

Chevalier nodded.

“We give you full powers for this matter, Chief Enforcer, and we trust you will use them wisely… we give you carte blanche.” A gasp was heard around the entire room and Chevalier nodded. He knew that the Elders were keeping something from him, he’d never heard of anyone being granted such powers.

He held out the bag of ash, “What is to be done with the wild one?”

Selest stood and motioned for the large heku in the corner to come forward, “Derrick will take him and bury his ashes. We’ll see how a thousand years of banishment will cure his appetite.”

Chevalier handed the bag over to Derrick and then left. Storm followed him out of the room.

As Chevalier walked down the hallway, deep in thought, Storm touched his arm softly.

“Please… don’t be mad, but when you left suddenly for Montana, I did some research.”

He stopped and looked at her, “Of what type?”

She sighed and handed him a large folder before speaking, “I know you’ve heard the story of the Winchesters, we all have. I wanted to go over the file though, just as a precaution. Back in the early 16^th century, there were mass heku hunts and slayings, I’m sure you remember them. The commoners actually thought they were hunting the infamous vampire. In Europe, they were being led by the Winchester family. That one family is credited for killing over 100,000 heku. The head of the Winchester family, Miles Winchester, had 4 daughters, the youngest of which was named Elizabeth.”

Chevalier wondered where this was going.

“The reason the Winchesters were so intent on killing the heku was because their family was known to our kind as being a ‘dulcris cruor’ or Sweet Blood, a trait handed down in the female line. Their blood called to any immortal around them, and they were haunted by violent attacks. Elizabeth, however, fell in love with one of her attackers and left the Winchester family to be with him. That union produced 4 daughters. These daughters were not only part of the ‘dulcris cruor’ family, they also had some of the innate traits of the heku father, who was head of his coven. You can see how this made them especially powerful.”

“These women were powerful enough to kill a heku with a single glance, yet the heku followed them, stalking them in the shadows, and eventually they would risk their own lives for just one taste of the Winchester blood. The Winchester women were sought after by the most powerful covens in the world, offered riches and wealth. If a coven should have one of the Winchester family in their midst, said coven would be unstoppable, one that would become a type of royalty in our world.”

“In the late 1800’s, the females from the Winchester line made a pact to no longer further their line, to stop the torment of the immortal. The ‘dulcris cruor’ caused extreme attraction to the family by both immortals and to animals. The attacks became so brutal that their pact was made to stop the harassment. One sister, and only one, made a mistake and broke the pact after falling in love with a man leaving for the new world.

“She has only one direct line, a line that ends with a sole female heir…”

“Do the Elders know any of this?” he asked, his mind spinning.

“I don’t know, and there’s no way to be sure if it’s even relevant. It’s all I could find when I was searching through our Montana coven listing.” She hesitated, and then walked away.

***

Storm’s words rang through his head as he sat in his 1^st class seat, headed back for Great Falls. The folder she handed him was on his lap and his fingers tapped it lightly. He couldn’t hold off any longer, opening the file, he was suddenly faced with the photo of a remarkably beautiful woman. She was standing alongside an Arabian stallion. The photo was in black and white, indicative of the year that was imprinted on the back side, 1959.

There was but a single notation, written in longhand on a piece of parchment inside of the folder.

 

Last Known Member of the Winchester Line

Name: Elizabeth Amy Barnett (maiden) (deceased)

Location: America (no further, though strong ties in Montana and North Dakota)

Married: Confirmed

Husband’s Name: Unknown

Children: 1 son (deceased), 1 daughter (name unknown)

Source: Father Emarcus Belaery (Head of Drakni Coven), deceased

Note: No indication she knows of her abilities, further study required.

***

Chevalier sat on his bed in the hotel in tiny Cascade, Montana, and thought about the powers he was granted. The rules they, as heku, were to follow, were to protect their secret from the mortals but also to protect the mortals themselves. He wondered how much of what Storm told him, the Elders already knew. As far as he knew, no one had ever been granted the ability to break the rules of conduct that their kind held in such high regard.

He thumbed once more through the small file on Elizabeth Ann and sat up suddenly, his eyes caught something he hadn’t seen before. Standing behind the woman and her horse was a man who looked alarmingly like Sam, a Sam of the same age as he currently is. This man could be Sam’s father, but the image wasn’t similar, it was exact. Hiding the file deep inside the locked safe, he headed out to his car. He had photographic memory, and this was Sam down to the last wrinkle and the small mole he had on the right of his neck.

He was also confused by his growing feelings for Emily. Never in his thousands of years had he felt like this for a mortal, it was abnormal for his kind.

Chevalier was out in his car in less than a second and pulled it onto the country road that led directly to Emily’s ranch.

He grabbed his phone and dialed. Storm answered on the first ring, “In your research, did you come across any type of protector for the Winchester family? Maybe even a long-standing ally?”

He could hear as she ruffled through papers before answering, “No, nothing like that, Sir.”

Chevalier sighed.

“There is one other thing I found, something you need to be very careful of. The ‘dulcris cruor’, as I’ve said, is appealing to all immortals but apparently its call to the heku is so strong, that the feeder is unable to stop once they begin. Unable as in... until the blood is gone. Each taste gets more and more appealing until finally the will to stop is no longer present.” Storm rattled the information off quickly.

Chevalier clicked his phone shut and sped up. He could see the ranch ahead of him. The Dodge pickup was parked in front of it. He drove past it and parked in an abandoned farmhouse not more than a mile away. He could traverse the distance quickly without anyone noticing.

It was dusk when he reached the farmhouse. Lights were on in the house, but also in the barn, and he heard voices.

“Is it broken?” Emily asked, and her voice sounded strained.

“I don’t tink so, jis hold still,” Sam replied. He sounded like he was concentrating, “Remine me ta teach you how t’punch.”

“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?” She sounded slightly amused, but then she groaned, “Stop that, that hurts!”

Chevalier appeared in the loft and watched them from above. Emily was sitting on a bale of hay, her hand outstretched to Sam. He was winding it tightly with an ace bandage.

“Ya should go to da hospital, Ms. Em,” he said to her matter-of-factly.

“That’s all I need, Sam, I just assaulted him. You want me to land in jail?” she asked, and smiled weakly.

Sam motioned toward the house, “He’s not lef yet.”

“He’s not going to leave either, he told me that… I just don’t want to go back in there now that he’s been drinking.” Emily winced as Sam continued to bandage her hand.

“You stay in Sam’s bunkhouse den.”

“It’s ok, Sam, I’ll stay here in the barn, there’s a make-shift bed in the loft.”

There was a long silence while Sam thought it out and finally agreed. He took a hard look at the house, glanced back at Emily, and then walked to the bunkhouse.

Emily stood up from the hay and looked at the long ladder leading up to the loft. She sighed and started up it, one handed. At the top rung, she inhaled sharply and brought her hand to her face, a deep splinter had embedded into her palm and a trickle of blood spilled onto the ladder.

Chevalier meant to wait for her quietly in the loft, but the smell of blood assaulted his senses, all he wanted was to taste just a little of it. He had a vision of grabbing her and holding her pinned as he tasted the hot blood from her neck. He began to salivate and his head throbbed with hunger, he could feel his muscles contract, ready to attack.

He stopped suddenly, the moment only lasted a fraction of a second, but he recoiled slightly at how far it had gone. He turned suddenly to see if Emily had seen him and knew immediately.

She stared up at him, still standing on the ladder, “I thought I told you to go away.”

Chevalier breathed deeply of her heady musk and shut his eyes to force his instincts back under his control. He opened them slowly and looked down at her as a drop of blood slid precariously down her wrist.

“That you did.” He moved to her quickly and took her hands, pulling her off of the ladder and up to face him.

Too fast for Emily to fight back, he had her pinned to his body and his sharp canines dug easily into the flesh on her neck. She gasped and pushed at him, trying to make him stop. The euphoria began to sweep over her and her eyes shut as she quit fighting.

He pulled away from her, relishing in the taste of her blood as it quenched the thirst and wet the back of his burning throat. He met her gaze and was shocked that the euphoric feeling had lasted only a few seconds. She was now staring up at him with her piercing green eyes, and her anger shone brightly in them.

Emily reached out and slapped him, then began to head down the ladder.

“Just like the others…” she grumbled as she ran to the house.

Chevalier barely made it to the door of the bunkhouse when it opened and Sam looked at him.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Sam said plainly, and then the pain hit.

Chevalier’s body was wracked with fire, every fiber of his being felt as if it had suddenly exploded in flames. He was knocked to his knees and his mind screamed with more pain than he’d ever felt. He was only partially aware as Sam pulled him inside the bunkhouse and shut the door. What seemed like an eternity later, the pain started to subside and Chevalier could see Sam standing beside him with a broom.

“What… happened…?” he was able to ask with much effort.

“Hrm,” Sam grunted, his eyebrows rose. “She must have gotten distracted, no ashes to clean up this time.” He put the broom away.

Chevalier’s head swam and he drifted into unconsciousness. He found his body unable to move, the weight of it was improbable. Through the darkness, he could clearly hear everything going on at the small ranch.

The cock of a shotgun.

The barn door opening.

Heavy footsteps returning to the house, “I don’t see anyone in there, Emi. Was it another one of them?” Keith asked with disgust.

“Yes, I’ve seen him a few times, but this is the first he’s attacked. He seemed different though, at least at first. He wasn’t begging me to join some stupid coven or jumping from the shadows to bite me.”

“How do you attract these weirdoes?” he asked her.

Emily’s voice sounded worried, “Maybe Sam got him?”

“That old man? What’s he going to do, hit the guy with a bridle?” Keith was obviously having fun.

“It’s not funny, Keith. Go check on Sam.”

Keith sighed and walked out the door of the house just as Sam opened the bunkhouse door and stepped out.

“Evening, Sam,” Keith said cordially.

“Hello, Mr. Keith.”

“Seen anyone around tonight? Any ashes?”

“No, Sir, no ashes. Mayhap he run?”

“Hasn’t stopped her from killing them before. If you do find ashes, just keep up the story that I killed them.”

“Yes, Sir, I un’rstand.”

Sam returned to the bunkhouse as Keith went back into the house.

Sam looked down at Chevalier as he opened his eyes slowly, “You broke the code.”

Chevalier stood and shook his head clear of the pain, “Who the hell do you think I am?”

Sam blinked, “What do you mean?”

He was able to pull himself up to his tallest, “I am Chief Enforcer of the Equites, and as such, we take this as an assault on the Council. I am no longer bound by the laws of our people. I suggest you tell your mistress that so much as a burning in my little finger… and I’ll kill her.”

Sam glared, “Touch her over my dead body.”

Chevalier looked at him, “I have business with her. If she wants to continue to breathe, I suggest she find time to meet with me.”

Sam blinked, and Chevalier was gone.