A Queen Among Blood: Chapter Four - Yildiz

Over the thousands of years sanguidae have existed there have been spikes in their activity which means an increase in their numbers. But whenever we arrive to handle it, we find they have disappeared off the face of the earth or a small number were left dead. We’ve looked into it time and time again but never could understand what was happening. Either way, the situations were being handled and efficiently, so we didn’t feel compelled to overanalyse it.

When a sanguidae goes on a killing spree, as vicious as the attacks are, the chances of humans ever discovering them is slim to none. Humans hold to their folklores very tightly, so what they know about what they call ‘vampires’ is vastly different from their real life counterparts. So a human is only likely to think ‘vampire’ if someone shows up exsanguinated with two puncture marks on their necks in the dead of night, which as comical as that is, does allow real sanguidae to operate in perfect obscurity.

Irshiusts are walking encyclopedias for the supernatural, and yet the origins of sanguidae are entirely unknown to us. We have asked our mother numerous times, but she remains tight-lipped about it. What we do know is they are immortal, with blood red irises and an unquenchable need for blood. They’re bound by their hunger that brings with it a ritualistic compulsion to drain the blood of their victims and eat their hearts. Becoming a sanguidae is not as simple as you might think. You see, when they feed, their saliva carries the… condition, I’ll say, with it, into the victim’s bloodstream, but with the body drained and heart gone there’s nothing for the condition to take root in. However, if the heart is left unconsumed, the condition is able to take over turning their victims into a sanguidae. It’s rare, but it does happen, and it seems it’s happening a lot right now in New Zealand.

“Forty-three victims in the last three days alone have been found in a city centre in Auckland. From the severe wounds authorities first thought animal attack, but given the removal of the hearts, they’re now looking for either a serial killer or a terrorist group,” says Imak.

“Terrorists? Really? Since when do terrorists drain people of blood and rip out their hearts?” scoffs Ceren.

“It’s not that unrealistic for them to consider the idea of a terrorist cell. A few years ago in Australia a terrorist cell was caught who had planned to go on a killing spree beheading people, which is far more gruesome and unexpected than their usual style of bombings,” argues Elif.

“Regardless, these are without a doubt sanguidae attacks. It’s unclear how many there are. It’s possible this could be the act of one sanguidae in the middle of a blood craze, or this is the work of a newly formed sept. Only one way to find out. I think for now, two of us will be enough to assess and handle the situation, but should more of us be needed then naturally, more of us will step in,” says Imak. Imak once against places her hand in the glass bowl and rummages around drawing the selected names. “Yildiz and Beste,” she announces.

“Yes!” Beste cheers making many of us chuckle.

“Yildiz, given your recent work with the nagata you’re welcome to decline, and I can pull out another name,” Imak offers.

“No, I’m happy to do it,” I say with a smile.

She nods, “Very well. Keep us up to date on how things go. Chances are this may end up being another case of us showing up only to find the situation already handled.”

“We’ll let you know,” says Beste.

“Then this meeting is adjourned, and everyone is dismissed,” declares Imak, as everyone rises from their seats and proceeds to leave the room.

I’m probably a bad person for hoping whoever has been dealing with the sanguidaes all these years doesn’t make an appearance. It’s incredibly selfish, and I’ll never admit to it out loud. I just fear if I stay here dwelling over my mystery animai I will truly go insane.

“Yildiz?” I hear Beste call, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Hmm?” I ask, standing and turning towards her, her stunning coquelicot aura with its gold glittering hue shining around her.

“You seem a little distracted,” she observes.

“I have a few things on my mind, but it won’t interfere with the mission, I promise,” I say sincerely.

“That’s good.” I can hear the smile in her voice as she wraps her arm around me, her delightful scent of warm sugar and fresh rain enveloping me, “Let’s go get dressed and then grab our toys,” she says with excitement.

I chuckle, “Still calling weapons ‘toys’ huh?”

“They are to me,” she says with a grin in her voice.

We each go our separate ways, with me returning to my room to shower and change. I feel like dressing for the occasion, so I opt for black leggings, black knee-high boots, a sheer black long-sleeve top and a short black leather jacket. Since I have all my clothes sectioned off and organised by colour, there’s brail marking each section of clothing, so I know which colour is where. My sister Nuray, however, once thought it would be funny to mix everything up. She found it most amusing when I came down for breakfast looking like the rainbow threw up on me. I got her back though.

Once I pull my braids up into a ponytail, I put my phone in my pocket and make my way to our armoury. I can already hear Beste inside, excitedly rummaging through the ‘toys’. She’s a quirky one, but I do love her enthusiasm for… well, everything.

“Look at you! You look like Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” she jokes, “Wait, Buffy was white… that would make you Kendra the Vampire Slayer!” she exclaims, clearly proud of her pop culture reference.

“Firstly, Kendra was killed, so I find that unsettling. Secondly, if we were going for accuracy then it would be Yildiz the Sanguidae Slayer,” I grin.

“That doesn’t remotely sound as appealing. Certainly don’t see it being picked up for a first season,” she says in mock seriousness. I roll my eyes. Beste loves supernatural-based films and television shows. She loves seeing how far removed from reality they are and is waiting for the day someone gets it right, though we hope that never happens.

“What have you gathered so far?” I ask, walking over to her.

“I have opted for some bloodstone throwing stars and some bloodroot grenades,” she answers proudly.

“No cadmium?”

“Feels excessive. I should do fine with just what I’ve selected,” she says as she pats what I assume is a pouch attached to her hip. “What will you choose?”

I walk along the wall, knowing exactly what I’m after, and proceed to take a katana down from the wall. Traditionally, katanas are forged using Tamahagane, but this particular sword is forged using bloodstone, a specific gemstone that upon contact, can weaken any sanguidae. It’s also the only substance that can kill them. To successfully kill a sanguidae one must cut out their heart using bloodstone, as it stops the heart from regenerating.

I pull the blade from its scabbard and run my thumb against the blade, testing its sharpness by the amount of pressure I feel against the pad of my thumb. If I were a sanguidae – or almost any other being for that matter – the blade would have sliced right through my flesh. We put great time and effort into perfecting and maintaining the weapons we use, and this one is no exception. Once satisfied, I place it back into the scabbard and strap it to my back.

“You always choose a katana, no matter what being we fight. I should have known you’d choose it again,” she says playfully.

“I love katanas. The history and craftsmanship that goes into them, especially ours, given we don’t use traditional materials. I’ve always admired the reverence the Japanese had for their art form. Not many weapons in history are so revered to almost develop a life of their own,” I say with admiration.

“Well, you are an expert on the subject. How many years did you spend in Japan mastering the art? I forget.”

“A couple decades. And it was worth every minute,” I grin.

“Is that all you’re taking?” Beste asks in disapproval.

“No,” I say, sticking my tongue at her, making her chuckle.

I move to a different area and proceed to grab a belt, that I strap around my hips, and then grab two cadmium daggers from the wall and attach them to the belt. Between the two of us, we now have every substance that can harm or kill a sanguidae. Beste’s grenades contain bloodroot, which is a flower. We dry and pulverise it into a powdered form and add it to grenades for quick use. Bloodroot won’t kill them, but it will hurt like hell. Even a little amount can cause them enough burning pain to knock them off their feet.

Then there’s cadmium, which is a metal similar to zinc and mercury. Cadmium to a sanguidae is no different than silver to a mutolupus and equally as painful. When confronting those who have potentially committed a crime, I prefer to use the less lethal substances against them first. Our goal is never to kill but to subdue and bring to justice. In the case of sanguidaes, many don’t even understand what they are or that their condition can be controlled. It’s not fair to kill or punish them for something that isn’t their fault, so the protocol is always to subdue, assess and then only kill if absolutely necessary. We don’t take pleasure in taking lives and only do it as a last resort.

“Ready to go?” she asks.

“That seems to be everything, so I would say yes.”

We exit the armoury and make our way outside. Once we step outside we’re greeted by the sound and smell of the waves of the Mediterranean sea. The air is warm yet refreshing as the wind brushes against my skin. The castle we call home is known as the Kartheca and is concealed by our mother’s magic. It resides high up on a cliff on Iç Ada, an islet found in Turkey. The only time the Kartheca is easy to access is during the Autumnal Equinox when we have our resident makkares open portals allowing supernaturals from around the world to enter our halls for the Autumnal Ball; a tradition that not only brings all the species together under peaceful circumstances but provides them with a chance to meet their soulmates.

And now I have stupidly put the thought of my own animai back in my head. The Autumnal Ball isn’t until September, and we’re currently in July. Am I going to have to wait another two months to find my animai? Assuming they’d even attend the ball. This is starting to feel like some gender swap version of Cinderella, only I’m trying to find the person who belongs to the scent I caught instead of whose sweaty foot belongs to the stinky shoe they left behind.

“Yildiz? Where did you go just now?” Beste asks.

I shake away the ridiculous train of thoughts I got swept in and give her a reassuring smile. “My thoughts just got a little carried away. The sooner we get going, the sooner I can focus.”

I hear the sound of feet running in our direction, and soon I see Aulen – one of our resident makkares – barrelling out of the Kartheca, her scarlet red aura with a dusting of French violet around the edges, surrounding her frame.

“Sorry I’m late, hope you weren’t waiting long,” she pants, attempting to catch her breath.

“Someone’s out of shape,” Beste teases. The breeze wafts Aulen’s charcoal and sage scent in my direction and along with it another familiar scent. Vanilla and lavender.

“Surprised another workout with Nuray didn’t improve your stamina. Or did she wear you out?” I smirk. It’s well known that Aulen and our sister Nuray fornicate whenever the mood strikes them.

“I hate all you beings with your superior noses. It’s incredibly annoying. For the record, as you can no doubt scent, we didn’t get to that part yet. I was called to open a portal for you,” she huffs, folding her arms indignantly, making us snigger.

“Our deepest apologies,” Beste says with a bow.

“I could be in the middle of a mind-blowing orgasm right now if not for the two of you,” she hisses.

“We’ll be sure to tell the sanguidaes we encounter how inconsiderate they were to give you a case of coitus interruptus,” I tease.

“Oh, ha ha.”

I watch as the French violet in her aura intensifies as she throws her arms out in front of her, the purple of her aura travelling down her arms and flowing out from her fingertips and forming an oval shape a few feet in front of her. As the purple hue of her aura dies down, she drops her arms to her sides, but the purple oval remains visible to my unseeing eyes, indicating the portal is fully operational. I may not see everything this world has to offer, but what I do see is full of beauty I cannot put into words.

“There, your portal is done. Now jump through it so I can close it and get back to what I was doing,” she urges.

“Enjoy your day, Aulen,” Beste chuckles as she steps through the portal.

“Try not to pull anything,” I tease, stepping through the portal just as her arm reaches out to swat me. At least some people are having some fun around here. Though all of this does prove one thing true; animais are a terrible distraction. Here’s hoping this mission provides the reprieve I seek.