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  The Beast Inside: Blood Queen

  The Third Book in The Beast Inside Series

  An Urban Fantasy/Supernatural Horror Fiction Novel by David Horrocks

  The Beast Inside Series:

  The Beast Inside

  The Beast Inside: Blood of the Forsaken

  The Beast Inside: Blood Queen

  Cover Art and Design by: Kristyn McQuiggan of Drop Dead Designs

  Edited by: Judie Horrocks, Bob Horrocks and Jonny Horrocks

  Special Thanks to: Kate, Nils and Conor

  About the Author

  A British born author living in the United States, David Horrocks has a passion for writing, wanting nothing more than to share his ideas and stories with the world. The first novel he published was 'The Beast Inside', which he has expanded on further with other novels and short stories. The art of writing is an outlet in which he pours his heart and soul, hoping to bring the enjoyment of reading to everyone who picks up his books.

  Copyright © 2020 by David Horrocks

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue: Upon a Throne of Blood

  Chapter One: A New World

  Chapter Two: No End in Sight

  Chapter Three: Alone in the Woods

  Chapter Four: Tracks in the Dirt

  Chapter Five: A Woman's Strength

  Chapter Six: The Lion’s Pride

  Chapter Seven: The Dove's Song

  Chapter Eight: That Which Lurks Below

  Chapter Nine: A Captive Audience

  Chapter Ten: Down into Darkness

  Chapter Eleven: Eyes of the Raven

  Chapter Twelve: An Unlikely Role Model

  Chapter Thirteen: The Butterfly and the Wasp

  Chapter Fourteen: Relics of the Past

  Chapter Fifteen: A Broken Psyche

  Chapter Sixteen: In the Seat of Power

  Chapter Seventeen: A Crack in the Mirror

  Chapter Eighteen: Time to Cut Loose

  Chapter Nineteen: A Most Desperate Escape

  Chapter Twenty: The Price of Blood

  Chapter Twenty-One: Dead to the World

  Chapter Twenty-Two: The Sleeping Angel

  Chapter Twenty-Three: Dead Man Walking

  Chapter Twenty-Four: Left Out in the Cold

  Chapter Twenty-Five: The Queen of Blood

  Chapter Twenty-Six: A Sacrifice of Blood

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Glass Cage

  Chapter Twenty-Eight: In the Wake of the Storm

  Epilogue: Another Night, Another Story

  A Thank You From The Author

  Prologue: Upon a Throne of Blood

  The grand hall was near blinding to those unaccustomed to its pure white walls and polished marble floors. It had been designed by its architect to overwhelm the senses, a job which it performed to perfection. Two rows of great white pillars ran parallel to each other, stretching out along the entire length of the open space. Those furthest from the gilded door bordered a set of wide steps that led up to a throne carved from the same stone in which it was set. The carefully crafted shape seemed to rise up from the top step, as if it had once been a part of them before it was expelled and forced to take on a form of its own.

  The entire room should have been cloaked in darkness, as there were no windows to speak of and no other visible sources of light, puzzling any who noticed the distinct lack of fixtures. Instead it was the smooth surfaces themselves that appeared to glow, illuminating the entire place in an unnatural light that lacked any sort of warmth. Decorations were sparse, giving the hall an empty, yet modern feel that left the atmosphere cold and uninviting, a striking similarity to the self-made monarch who no longer seemed to care for those in her service. That same queen now occupied her throne, the flowing red dress she wore a stunning contrast to the whitewashed world around her.

  Expensive silks were draped over the sharp, chiseled corners of hard marble, cascading over the edges like a river of blood. Wrapped in that same fabric, the queen's skin was almost as pale as her surroundings, with crimson lipstick tracing the elegant shape of her mouth. The dark brown curls of her hair rested on narrow shoulders, topped off by a thin and dainty crown that sat delicately upon her head.

  A handcrafted piece of modern design, the circlet had been created from strands of silver, intricately woven into a masterpiece fit for royalty, and yet it still paled in comparison to the dreadful beauty of the one who wore it. The queen herself was a spectacle to behold, her powerful presence dominating the room as she sat there on high in all her grandeur.

  It is true that some monarchs are adored by their subjects and regarded with the utmost respect, but that was far from the case in this long forsaken land. It wasn't love for their queen that kept the people in line, rather an overwhelming fear of what she would do to them should they fail her. They had no loyalty to their sovereign beyond that of self preservation, and so far that seemed to be working in her favour. She was the spider within her web and they were the flies waiting to be devoured.

  As the undisputed ruler of the local vampire elite, the great city of Calgary and the province of Alberta that surrounded it, the queen had risen from nothing, using patience and guile to claim the power that she had always desired. This age old master of deception was renowned for displaying a level of cruelty that had since become legend. This was what had become of Katherine Louviere, the Black Widow; the one who would forever be known as the Blood Queen.

  Leon stood motionless at his post by the main entryway, not daring to move a muscle for fear of drawing attention to himself. While the queen held court, it was his duty to stand guard as she passed judgement on those who didn't even deserve her wrath more often than not. He was just one among many unfortunate souls who were duty bound to protect the throne room throughout the night, his brothers in arms flanking him on both sides as they too did their best to avoid being noticed. All of them stood still like statues, unbreathing and unflinching, their black suits making them appear as though they belonged to some sort of secret service.

  It was the night of judgement for an unfortunate trio of vampires who had neglected to support the queen in her war for the throne. None of them had been allies and had barely interacted with each other in the past, but that didn't stop them from being put on trial as if they had plotted together to commit treason. Could it even be considered treason if their crimes were against a woman who hadn't been their head of state at the time? It didn't matter either way, as there was no convincing her otherwise. There would be no chance for the three of them to circumvent their fate, and it was far too late for them to flee the city as those wiser and less arrogant had already done. Calgary was no longer their home, the night of the coronation had made sure of that, and they had long outstayed their welcome.

  Leon felt pity for all three of the vampires as they were forced to kneel before the throne by sever
al of his over aggressive peers. He recognised two of them on sight, as they had been former power players within the city, but the third he had only ever heard of by reputation. Father Solomon may have been a relatively harmless looking man, but he was believed to be the oldest of their kind within the entire province of Alberta. It was said that he was a force to be reckoned with long before he moved to the New World, but he had since changed his ways and was now known to repent his countless sins on a nightly basis. He didn't look like much, a broken man dressed in the humble and dusty robes of a priest, but there was an undeniable power that still emanated from within.

  To the holy man's left knelt the other two accused, the closest of which was Dimitri Vlascenko. Dimitri was a former Soviet soldier turned artist, clad in his usual grey trench coat, his head shaved and held high with pride. He had once controlled the art district in the most upscale area of downtown Calgary, but had supposedly been betrayed by someone whom he had trusted above all others. The result of which was that his territory was stripped and taken from him, his social status left in tatters. It was clear from his boisterous attitude that he wasn't ashamed of anything that he had done and would resist the queen's rule all over again should he be given the opportunity.

  Dwarfed by the soldier's immense presence was a third, much slimmer and far less intimidating man. He was already cowering in fear, his personality surprisingly timid for a creature of the night. The old tweed suit that he wore was unable to hide the pathetic quivering wretch beneath it, an embarrassment to those who considered themselves to be dangerous predators. Although he was far from an impressive sight, Arthur the Keeper had held a position of power as the former queen's archivist, and was now paying the price for keeping detailed records of her 'false histories’.

  All three men were different in almost every single way and had never been known to frequent the same circles, let alone be seen in the same parts of the city. There was no way that any of them would have schemed together, but as unfortunate as their situation was, there wasn't a shred of doubt in Leon's mind that they would be put to death without mercy.

  This wasn't the first time that the Blood Queen had abused her power to kill off her rivals, nor would it be the last. Leon had been present as the oil baron, Hank Wilson, was burned alive, the awful smell of gasoline and blackened flesh still fresh in his mind. He had seen countless others put to the match too, which was one of the worst ways for a vampire to die, and many more beheaded, tortured, or worse. Katherine Louviere had earned the title of Blood Queen and would always be remembered as the woman who bathed in the blood of her enemies, sometimes quite literally.

  The number of immortals within the city should have been dwindling due to sudden disappearances and the queen's brutal punishments. However, for every vampire who was killed or those who simply vanished, another stranger would appear to take their place, each of them strangely loyal to a monarch who shared no interest in their well-being. Katherine was somehow replacing the population with those under her control and there seemed to be no one strong enough to stand against her, and certainly none brave enough to try. It was better to feign allegiance to Katherine than to cross her, as the price of betrayal was far too high.

  Leon noted that the throne room was as flawless as usual, maintained on a nightly basis by mindless slaves that never spoke a word and never made eye contact with those around them. Their blank stares were haunting to behold and he knew some of them as those whom he had once served alongside. They were friends and colleagues who had somehow displeased the queen and had since been repurposed to carry out menial tasks. It was devastating to see those that he cared about acting that way, but it was all the motivation that Leon needed to stop himself from stepping out of line. It was better to live a life of servitude with his mind intact than to be stripped of his free will. He couldn't stomach looking at their faces, as their emotionless expressions made him feel sick. They may as well be dead, as existence in their current state was a fate much worse than death.

  His attention drifting up to look upon the woman who had caused him so much pain and loss, Leon couldn't help but admire her timeless beauty. He still hated Katherine, but she seemed to radiate an elegance that would have taken his breath away if he had any. It was undoubtedly some subtle trick of hers that forced others to see her as something other than the monster that she was. There was a time when she had managed to hide her rotten insides from the world, appearing as nothing more than a successful business woman and entrepreneur; but she had since traded her formal pantsuits for much more regal attire, swapping monotone colours for bright reds that evoked a more emotional response. The Blood Queen no longer had to disguise who she was and could display her true self to the world around her. This was the beast that lurked inside, finally released from its cage and allowed to roam free.

  Just behind the queen, standing almost out of sight, were two men dressed in grey. They were identical twins whose very presence filled Leon with a sense of dread. He didn't know who the mysterious men were, with their dark eyes and buzzed haircuts, but he had seen them many times before. From what he had heard, they had something to do with a girl who had once stood by Katherine's side; the one who had helped her ascend to the throne and the second most hated vampire within the city until the night she fled. The two men had appeared soon after the queen's official coronation and had acted as her shadows ever since. All Leon knew is that he wanted nothing to do with them, as they were the kind of trouble that would certainly get him killed.

  “Guards! Leave us!” Leon's train of thought was interrupted by a sudden command from the Blood Queen as she stood up from her throne. She stared down at those kneeling before her as if she was waiting for them to make a move.

  It was one of the newer guards that made the mistake of questioning the queen's order. “But your highness, the prisoners…” It was a mistake that Leon hoped wouldn't be the man's last.

  The fool was lucky this time, as all Katherine did was dismiss him with a wave of her hand, not taking a single moment to notice who had spoken out of line. “I said leave!”

  Without another word, the guards all began to march towards the exit. Leon quickly rushed to heave open the heavy doors, allowing them passage into the hallway beyond. As he waited there, the sheer weight of the gilded door pushing against him, he caught sight of the men in grey as they disappeared through a hidden passageway behind the throne. They were leaving their queen alone with some of the most powerful vampires that remained within her realm, but no-one dared to question her command again.

  The three captives looked at each other with wide eyes, clearly confused by what was going on around them, but none of them made a move against their accuser, not yet anyway. They would likely bide their time until all the guards were out of sight and once they were alone with the tyrant, they would strike. With the exception of the glorified librarian, there was little doubt that such strong willed beings would act when given the chance.

  Leon moved to follow his peers out of the room and slowly pulled the grand door shut behind him. As the crack in the doorway closed, he caught a brief glimpse of the action as it began. There was a blur of rapid movement as the captive men took full advantage of the situation, using every supernatural power that they had at their disposal. Although he could no longer see what was going on, Leon could hear the yelling and screaming echoing throughout the hall from what sounded like one hell of a fight. Unfortunately, with no witnesses present, there would be no one to recount what was actually happening within the throne room itself.

  Taking a moment to ponder the situation, Leon decided that it was probably for the best that he couldn't see anything anyway, as it likely wouldn't be for the faint of heart. He quietly prayed that the captives would be able to overpower the Blood Queen and save them all from her tyrannical rule. If only there was someone out there who would listen to his desperate prayer.

  When the doors finally creaked open of their own accord, Leon resisted the temptation to look
inside. He wasn't sure if it was intelligence or fear that held him back, but he obeyed it nonetheless. He instead peered around at his fellow guards and could see by the concerned expressions on their faces that they didn't know what to expect, or who would emerge from the great hall.

  There was a long pause at first, causing doubts to form in Leon's mind. He wanted to know what had happened, but dared not enter the throne room without the queen's express permission. It seemed that all of the others were of the same mind too, as none of them had shifted an inch from where they were standing. They would wait there until the end of time if they had to, all of them far too frightened to make the first move.

  Breaking the uneasy silence, a single set of footsteps approached the doorway from the other side. Each step was slow and steady, as if whoever they belonged to didn't have a care in the world. It was almost too much to bear as they took their time, keeping everyone standing there on edge. The tension in the air was palpable, with all eyes on the gilded door in anticipation.

  To Leon's abject terror, it wasn't the priest, nor the artist or archivist who emerged from the great hall, but the one person who had been severely outnumbered. Katherine Louviere, the Blood Queen strode out from between the golden arch, the long silks of her red dress trailing behind her.

  Barely a hair was out of place as the queen held her silver crown by her side, a single drop of blood trickling down from the corner of her mouth. There wasn't a single mark on her flawless porcelain skin and no other trace of what horrors had occurred inside. Whatever had happened in the room beyond, it was as if none of it had affected her in the slightest, almost as if she hadn't even gotten her hands dirty. The situation was impossible to comprehend, and yet there Katherine was, unscathed and untouched by those who had moved against her.