Sanguine is the night

Redemption, Texas

The Night Coyote

3:35 AM

Peyton Fallon watched the scene in the Night Coyote bar from her throne of writhing bodies and moaning lovers, a cigarette in her left hand and a glass of fresh blood in her right. She ran a hand through her long blonde hair, balancing effortlessly on the pile of naked, squirming humans, her dress like shimmering rose petals. Peyton swirled the fresh vintage, admiring her reflection. A Goddess looked back at her, petite fangs tucking into full, dark lips.

Her worshippers kissed her feet, and she allowed it, surveying the lavish bar. The patrons of the Night Coyote were her brood, vampires, like her, but also not. They were base monsters, many ruled by their instincts, but they were also a government unit tasked with exterminating supernal enemies and were damn good at it. Peyton knew they were on edge, that war loomed on the horizon. Tonight, the brood called Nine deserved to feed.

Peyton watched Alex, her eyes roving over her soft curves and the tight, black leather outfit she wore in combat. Even at the bar, in the final hours before dawn, Alex was a survivor, constantly eyeing the exits and any threats that might take her.

Next to Alex sat Maurice Anderson, a young man of mixed Hispanic origin, turned before adulthood. Tanned, muscular, dark, and broody, it was a shame that he would never flourish into his twenties. He would be seventeen forever, a curse that time would only exacerbate.

Alex, incomparably perceptive, turned in her chair and made sudden eye contact. Peyton winked playfully and stepped from the mound of bodies, to her worshippers' dismay.

She strode through the Night Coyote in a show of unparalleled grace, making her way to Alex and the Coyote spirit that served as bartender. Peyton passed her blood-chained love, the hulking, muscular brute, Dakota Proudson, and traced a finger along his chest, drawing a slit that would heal in seconds.

Dakota, a Native American vampire with proud, feral features, sat with a tall, attractive priest, the pair chatting in respectful tones on the nature of free will.

"My Goddess," Dakota growled, brushing Peyton's hand as she passed.

"You cannot possibly believe that a goddess resides within the flesh of Peyton Fallon," Father Aston said.

"I do. So should you. How can you deny the evidence, Father?" Dakota said, sitting back and shaking his head. "Look. Your heaven is intangible. It's locked and loaded with hypocrites and lies. But the blood, the flesh, that's real. When it comes to worship, no one on this planet brings me to rapture like the Goddess."

"Blasphemy," Father Aston said with a laugh, taking a sip from his drink. "Now, where were we? You were saying the act of choosing to serve God as we are is akin to submission and not free will? Please, elaborate."

Peyton tuned them out. Dakota was a Satanist who believed the vampiric condition made vampires akin to fallen angels, devils, and demons. Father Aston had been a priest in life, and vampirism had not shaken his faith. If anything, the father's undead condition had refocused it. That the two of them were friends at all baffled Peyton.

"Alex, dear, where is Karina? And for that matter, wasn't Thompson here a moment ago?" Peyton asked.

Alex frowned and shrugged.

"Karina received a message from Ashcroft. She left to help with a Blood-Borg or something," Alex said, her Russian accent slipping through.

"Hey, Peyton," Vincent called from the chandelier.

Peyton looked up at the child vampire, no more than nine years old forever. As always, she tried not to grimace at the sight of him. She hated the intelligence lurking behind those falsely innocent eyes. Children were never supposed to be turned. His existence violated vampiric law.

"Yes, Vincent?" Peyton answered.

"Wasn't there some sort of surprise for us?" Vincent asked, his eyes sparkling.

Peyton gasped.

"I nearly forgot!" She feigned before giggling, posing dramatically.

"Lords and Ladies, killers of Nine, may I have your attention please?" Peyton asked, gliding onto the bar and stepping delicately over Maurices drink.

"The fuck..." Maurice mumbled, snatching back his shot of blood whiskey.

"Tomorrow night, we go to war with the bastard Prince Vincitori!" Peyton cried, lifting her glass. "The streets of Redemption shall run red with blood, and when dawn again burns Texas, she will have a new ruler!"

Nine as a whole did not cheer. Dakota let out a roar that shook the floorboards.

Peyton made eye contact with Karou and Camille, two of the most lovely creatures ever to walk the night. Karou was a petite young vampire, tiny, with blue hair and big green eyes currently painting a portrait of her partner. Posing for her, confident and charismatic, dripping with sexuality, was the vampire Camille, Karou's constant companion, confidante, and lover.

"But that is tomorrow. Tonight is for release! I give you...the prize!" Peyton said, nodding to Black Coyote and her worshippers.

From their midst, brought to the surface and dripping in delicate lacerations, a young man emerged, mid-twenties and undeniably gorgeous. He had curly auburn hair and dark brown eyes. Peyton's worshippers bore him up and carried him to the far side of the room, where he waited, a living trophy full of precious sustenance.

Every vampire in the room took notice. Peyton grinned fiercely.

"...and the challenge!" She cried.

From the floor came a rumbling noise and the sound of stomping hooves. The wooden floorboards of the bar split open suddenly, and a metal behemoth rammed through, emerging with thrashing horns and bucking legs.

"It's a bull!" Vincent screamed, laughing.

Dakota and Father Aston were on their feet in an instant, as were Alex and Maurice.

The mechanical bull tossed a nearby table with a quick jut of its horns and looked around the bar, assessing the supernaturally still creatures. The bull looked like a machine replica come to life. Its eyes glowed with crimson intelligence, and steam snorted from its nostrils. Within, rage built like a furnace, stoking higher and higher.

"This was a simple mechanical bull. Now, it is the vessel for a Spirit of Rage, and any who can last eight seconds on its back wins the prize," Peyton said, grinning. "Let the games begin."

No one said a word. Alex looked at Maurice, who downed his shot and cracked his neck.

"I'll have a go," Maurice said, striding up to the raging beast.

Maurice patted the bull's metal flank heartily, drawing a gasp from Karou.

The metal bull shook its head but allowed Maurice to mount. As soon as the young vampire was up, the bull took off, leaping and slamming down as hard as it could, bucking with tremendous strength.

Dakota took a step back, amazed at the speed and power of the machine. Maurice grit his teeth, empowering his muscles with the blood, but it was no good. He was slipping from the small harness and leaning forward too far. The back of the bull's head came up fast, shattering Maurice's nose. He was sent flying with another buck, crashing through Dakota and Father Astons table.

"Did I win?" Maurice asked.

Karou and Camille giggled.

Aston looked to Peyton, who now held a stopwatch. She smiled and shook her head.

"6.14 seconds. Sorry, hun," Peyton said.

The spirit within the mechanical bull snorted, the steam hot and sulfurous. It turned, eyeing the members of Nine before settling, waiting for its next rider.

"Fuck that," Vincent said from above.

"Why don't you have a go?" Aston suggested to Dakota. "Surely you can take that thing."

Dakota cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders, stepping forward.

"O'course I can, and don't call me Shirley," Dakota said, grabbing the reigns and hoisting himself up.

The beast's eyes flared bright, and it began to buck harder this time. Dakota flexed his huge muscles and held tight, powerful thighs bending the steel frame of the machine. The bull thrashed, but Dakota held on, growling.

The atmosphere in the bar became electric. Every vampire leaned forward. The bull reared up, throwing Dakota back, and his hand slipped free of the strap. A collective gasp filled the bar as the bull slammed down and bucked its hindquarters, bouncing the huge man off its back and sending him sailing onto and over the bar.

Drinks and shattered glass went everywhere, and Dakota climbed to his feet, furious.

"I'LL RIP YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF!" Dakota roared, stepping back onto the bar. Peyton put her hand on his chest, calming him.

"7.22 seconds, my love. It was close," Peyton cooed. "Let the others have a try. You can break it later."

Alex looked at the place where her drink had been and sighed.

"I'll try," she said, putting her hair up.

Dakota sat next to Peyton, smoldering, while Alex mounted and straddled the possessed machine.

For a second, the metal bull seemed calm with Alex astride it. Then, the bout began, and it was clear that Alex had done this before. Despite the beast's best efforts, Alex rode with grace and power. With one hand in the air, she kept her balance, using her thighs and core strength to move with the brute. When her hand finally slipped, and the bull bucked her off, Alex floated through the air, landing in a roll at the bar.

"7.87 seconds!" Peyton screamed, prompting an angry sigh from Dakota. "Damn, girl!"

Alex shrugged and took Coyote's consolation shot.

In the corner, Camille wrapped her arms around Karou.

"Why don't you show them?" Camille whispered, biting her lip. A drop of blood swelled, glistening. "You have the blood of an ancient in you. You're stronger than all of them. Show them what I already know, and win me that prize."

Karou still had her paintbrush in hand when suddenly Camille's mouth was on hers, pushing hot blood down her throat. Camille pulled back and Karou licked her lips, row upon row of fangs sliding down behind her teeth.

"Camille," Karou said. "I'm of Kain's blood. What if something happens?"

"For me?" Camille whispered.

Karou sighed and stood up. Tentatively, she made her way to the center of the room and the metal demon waiting patiently.

"Karou Shields," Peyton said, whistling. "Are you a contender?"

"Yes," Karou said quietly, wringing her hands.

Inside, the young vampire's blood began to boil, and a ferocity she feared threatened to surface. The bull stomped and snorted.

"Here goes," Karou said.

As with Alex, the bull waited until the petite vampire was secure before it began, leaping, spinning, and thrashing. Karou was light but strong, and as the bull challenged her, Karou held on, her limbs strengthening with each pulse of the blood. She rode the possessed machine like a harpy, digging into the dents in its ribs and slamming a hand of talons into its neck.

The seconds ticked by and as they did, Karou's power amplified. Her eyes went red, and a crimson aura surrounded her. Finally, with a shriek, Karou reached down and took hold of the bull's neck, ripping it from its moorings. A shower of sparks exploded from the machine, and it collapsed in a pile of scrap as Karou leaped, landing at the auburn-haired boy's side.

With a primal growl, Karou took hold of the youth and tore into his arteries like they were watermelon. A spurt of blood flew, landing on Karou's canvas some six feet away.

Applause filled the bar as she drank, Camille, slinking to her side.

Peyton raised her glass and tossed the stopwatch to the floor.

"9.14 seconds. Sanguine is the night!" Peyton exclaimed, raising an eyebrow at Black Coyote behind her.

The Coyote spirit slid another drink towards Maurice and looked at Karou and Camille, draining the blood from the twitching youth.

"Sanguine is the night," Coyote agreed, grinning.