Iker the Unseen
Tales of Iker
Orlando A. Sanchez
Contents
About the Story
Quotation
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
Author Notes
Special Mentions
About the Author
Bitten Peaches Publishing
ART SHREDDERS
Acknowledgements
Contact Me
Thank you
About the Story
Most problems have temporary solutions…others require a more permanent response.
Meet Iker the Unseen, expert conflict resolution professional.
When Iker gets a call from the Dark Council to resolve a conflict involving an ancient clan of vampires, he finds that he is the target of an elimination protocol.
Someone wants Iker the Unseen to remain unseen…permanently.
Now, with Dark Council Enforcers hunting him, and clan heads ordering his death, Iker must uncover who sanctioned a kill order against him—and remove them before its too late.
Quotation
Beware; I am fearless, and therefore powerful.
-Mary Shelley
ONE
My walking stick tapped the cobblestones with every other step.
What used to be an affectation was now a necessity, if I wanted to walk without major discomfort. The injury, and the resulting wound was my constant reminder of failure.
My failure to kill her.
It tapped out a solemn death march, announcing the impending end of my target: one Lawrence Warrington, high ranking member of one of the older vampire clans in the Dark Council.
Every Wednesday evening he would visit the Hellfire Club, where he would engage in his particular fetishes before taking a short stroll a few blocks away. He would return to his vehicle which was always parked in the same location—Dey Street, between Church and Broadway, across from the Millennium Hilton.
Predictable, foolish, and fatal.
The valet would bring the car up in three minutes. I waited. Three minutes later, I heard his footsteps. He didn’t even try to mask his approach. He had grown complacent and sloppy. Lawrence carried himself with the attitude of a man who is used to abusing his authority. Everything about him screamed arrogance. That would be short-lived.
Just like Lawrence.
The irony of a vampire walking down Dey Street in the middle of the night wasn’t lost on me. I made sure he saw me as he drew closer.
“It’s you,” he said, narrowing his eyes at me. “There’s been a mistake.”
“Agreed,” I said. “If we’re having a conversation, you’ve made a fatal error. One I’ve been sent to correct—permanently.”
“You can’t touch me,” he stammered as he backed up against his pristine silver Bentley. “Do you know who I am, what clan I belong to?”
Denial came first.
“Yes, I do, Lawrence. It’s why I’m here,” I said. “You have two hours until sunrise. Would you like to greet the sun one last time? I’ve been informed that I can offer you this last mercy, considering your position within the clan.”
“You dare speak to me this way? Fuck your mercy!”
“I will take that as a no.”
“You are street scum,” he spat, the anger rushing to the surface in desperation. “Filth not fit to kiss my shoes.”
Anger always followed denial.
“Yet, here I am,” I said. “It would seem someone doesn’t think very highly of you Lawrence, enough to employ me to dispatch you.”
“Whatever they’re paying I can double it, triple it,” Lawrence offered. “You know I have it. Name your price.”
Bargaining inevitably followed anger. I never let it get past the bargaining stage. My injury impeded my smooth movement, but not by much. I slid across the cobblestones, drawing my blade as I closed the distance.
Lawrence was a vampire, which meant he was dangerous. He was also an entitled, self-serving, insolent ass. He left combat to underlings and those he deemed less than him.
Vampires like me.
My blade punctured his chest in several locations. He fell back, rolling across the hood of the Bentley and ending up unceremoniously on the street.
“Did you just stab me?” he asked. “Are you mad? What do you think some blade is going to do to me?”
I extended my black blade, Slake, to the side and allowed Lawrence to get a good look. The runes along its edge gave off a dull red glow. It took a few moments, but the realization dawned on him.
“Is that a soulsplitter?”
“Worse,” I said. “You have one minute before it dissolves you. Any last words?”
Lawrence began to laugh.
“You still don’t see it, do you?”
“See what?” I asked, somewhat confused. “What are you talking about?”
“They will come for you,” Lawrence said. “You failed. They do not accept failure.”
“I did not fail,” I said, my voice firm. “You have been terminated.”
“Not me, you fool,” Lawrence said, turning pale. “You didn’t kill her.”
I knew who he meant immediately.
“A situation I will rectify in time.”
“Too late,” he said. “I’m just the beginning, but trust me, this ends with you.”
He burst into dust a second later.
I sheathed Slake into my walking stick and walked away, his words echoing in my thoughts.
This ends with you.
TWO
My phone rang a few seconds later. Only one person had my number.
Sabine.
Somehow she always knew. Sabine was my second, my facilitator and intermediary. If someone wanted to procure my services, they needed to meet with her first. She would vet and confirm the client as well as the target.
If she decided the contract was not viable, or exposed me to unnecessary reprisals, she would cancel it, no questions asked. It was the only condition she was adamant about, and the only one I didn’t violate.
“Is it done?”
“It would appear,” I said, looking back at the remaining dust that was Warrington seconds earlier. “I have enemies on the Council that want me dead.”
“Water is wet and the sun kills,” she said. “What else is new?”
“These individuals it appears. They seem to be a new faction, according to Warrington.”
“Are you sure he wasn’t just trying to delay the inevitable?”
“It was after he knew he was gone. He had nothing to gain by telling me.”
“And it wasn’t the ravings of a lunatic?”
“No. Just the final words of a dead man,” I said, thinking on Warrington’s last words. “You may need to do some digging around. See what you can uncover about my imminent demise.”
“Well, that’s complicated,” Sabine said after a pause. “They do realize you’ve crossed that particular road?”
“I would assume so.”
“So this is dead as in dust-dead.”
“Warrington alluded to as much,” I said, walking away from the Bentley. “It goes back to her.”
A few moments of silence.
“You realize a resolution will be needed regarding that particular situation?”
“I’m aware,” I said. “Killing the Director of the Dark Council is not a matter to be taken lightly. The repercussions will be…extensive.”
“She’s dangerous and not
under an active contract, at least not anymore.”
“Is there still a bounty on her head?”
Another moment of silence.
“Yes, it currently sits at forty million, under an open bounty.”
“Inform me when it reaches one hundred million.”
“I don’t see that happening; she’s dangerous, but not that dangerous.”
“She is that dangerous and beyond.”
“Well, if anyone can prove her demise they would collect the bounty.”
“And an assortment of formidable enemies,” I said. “Starting with the detective agency.”
“You could be preemptive and remove them first.”
“You only say that because you haven’t studied them. I have.”
“There’s only two of them. Doesn’t seem like much of a threat.”
“Three, if you factor in the hellhound. Don’t underestimate them.”
“Two men and a hellhound,” she said. “Sounds like a bad B-movie. Removing them should be possible with enough personnel.”
“That would only create chaos and bring us undue attention. I don’t do undue attention, it limits my operational mobility.”
“Understood,” she said. “He wants to meet. Sunrise. The usual place.”
I checked my timepiece. A little under two hours.
“Of course he does,” I said. “Tell him I’ll be there.”
“Do you want me to arrange a vehicle or are you riding your deathmobile?”
“The Scythe is not a deathmobile, and yes, I will make my own way.”
“You usually do. Stay out of the sun.”
“Sage advice.”
Sabine ended the call.
THREE
The Scythe was Cecil’s idea of taking an experimental vehicle and improving on it. Based on the Dodge Tomahawk, it wasn’t exactly a motorcycle, but closer to a strange hybrid, sitting somewhere between an automobile, a motorcycle, and a spectacular death. As far as I knew, I owned the only SuNaTran version. I somehow doubted there would be a demand for more than one.
No one was that insane.
I walked over to where I had left it parked, put on the glasses that acted as a kinetic buffer, replacing the need for a helmet, and started the wraith engine.
I sped off in silence.
The sky lightened as the sun slowly rose over the horizon. I made sure to pull my hat lower over my face. UV radiation was as fatal to me as it was to most vampires, except the ancient ones—the Daystriders.
Daystriders knew no fear of the sun.
Solis Augustus was the oldest vampire I knew. In terms of actual age, it was unclear. No one in the Dark Council or any of the clans knew his true age. What I did know was that he was the head of the most powerful vampire clan in the city. No one refused an audience with him and lived long enough to regret their choice.
I parked the Scythe in front of 405 Lexington Avenue and glanced up at the Chrysler Building. If I hurried, I could get to Solis before the sun blazed on the top of the building.
I placed a hand on the specially designed panel and the Scythe’s engine turned off, becoming still. Cecil had runed it with proximity aversion runes, which ensured it would remain exactly where I had parked it until I returned. I stepped into the lobby of the building and headed to a specific elevator.
The lobby of the building always made me pause. This was construction when art and function intertwined. The lobby was created at the height of the Art Deco movement and it showed. Rich woods and silver motifs shared equal space to make the lobby a work of art. The ceiling was covered in artistic motifs that unified the space into one cohesive work. It was like stepping into a temple.
The Chrysler Building officially had 32 elevators. I headed over to the 33rd which was disguised as a pair of large brass doors labeled Authorized Personnel Only. I punched in the code on the small panel and the doors whispered open, allowing me entry to the elevator that would access what was once the Cloud Club, but now served as Solis’ base of operations—the Solarium.
The Solarium occupied the top two floors, with a private residence located as a triplex below it. The Solarium was an office space Solis used to hold his meetings or summon other members of the Clan families. Those meetings usually occurred in the renovated office space on the 69th floor. The 70th floor was an actual solarium, which for obvious reasons was avoided by most of the clans.
I was headed to the 70th floor.
The elevator doors opened several minutes later, and I stepped off into a large reception area. Opposite the doors sat a large runed wooden desk. Behind the desk sat a thin woman of indeterminate age known as the Watcher. I had to do some digging to find out her name was Roze, but that was as far as I was able to get in my investigations.
Her white hair was pulled back in a severe bun, and her thin glasses rested on the edge of her nose as she gazed at the several computer monitors on her desk. She glanced up at me for half a second and nodded.
“Upstairs,” she said, returning to her work. “He’s expecting you.”
She wasn’t a vampire, and frankly I had no idea what exactly she was, except to know that she was incredibly dangerous and always watching, hence the unofficial title. I pulled my hat down and tightened my jacket around my body before heading up the large spiral staircase that led to the solarium.
I had learned from my interaction with Director Nakatomi. All of my clothing was now runed to protect from sunlight and UV radiation from any source on a level equivalent to Daystrider armor. It had cost a small fortune to procure and ensured I could withstand the sun while wearing it, provided I kept any exposed skin out of direct contact. Without it, and with enough exposure, even I would be reduced to dust.
This vulnerability was why Solis had arranged the meeting in the Solarium.
FOUR
“Good morning, Iker,” Solis said, gazing out over the city. “It promises to be an excellent day.”
I glanced across the skyline and looked to the side, the lightening sky signifying the approaching dawn and death. Solis and I had differing opinions about what made an excellent day.
“You wanted to see me.”
Solis was a large man who, judging from the tone of his skin; enjoyed spending time in the sun. He was fit and radiated an undercurrent of power. The rumors were that he was a mage before he was turned. These were, of course, unsubstantiated. Due to his advanced age and position with the clans, no one had been able to confirm or dispel the accuracy of the rumor.
Solis ran a hand through his thick gray hair and peered at me. He moved over to a set of comfortable chairs and motioned for me to sit. I sat opposite him, keeping the rising sun to my back.
“You have a problem,” Solis said, sitting back in his chair. “Are you aware several of the clan heads are asking for your demise?”
“I was under the impression that this was the current state of affairs,” I said, measuring my words. With Solis, it was always about the subtext. “At least, until they need me to remove a ‘problem’, that is. Then I’m useful, until I’m not.”
“It would appear you’ve become too efficient. With the exception of the Director, your record of contract fulfillment is flawless. You’ve become, perhaps, too useful.”
“I underestimated her,” I said. “It’s an error I won’t repeat.”
“I’m sure you won’t,” Solis said. “She, however, is not your priority any longer.”
“Understood.”
Had he said she was not ‘a priority’, I would have been free to pursue the Director at my leisure. By framing it as not ‘my priority’ he had effectively warned me off. I was being instructed to stay away from her until further notice.
“What were Warrington’s last words?” Solis asked. “I’m sure he shared some wisdom with you.”
“He informed me that the clan heads want my, as you said, demise,” I said. “Because I allowed the Director to escape.”
“That is their excuse,” Solis said, waving my
words away. “Old vampires clinging to power and realizing their end draws near.”
“Their end? Are you referring to the Director?”
“No. She is a long-term concern. They are concerned with short-term survivability.”
“It’s my understanding that the clan heads are secure in their positions,” I said. “Why would they be concerned about their survivability?”
“The Director is purging the ranks, and has enacted the blood rule,” Solis said with a small smile. “It was an excellent play. They will retaliate, but not directly, not yet.”
“They fear her.”
“They blame you,” Solis said, looking at me. “The consensus was that you should have removed her when you had the chance. Your failure has precipitated the blood rule and the current purge.”
“I see. They blame me, yet I don’t pose a threat to them.”
“They fear you,” Solis said, looking away from me and out over the balcony into the city again. “Do you know why?”
I gave my answer careful thought. If Solis was siding with the clan heads, I would leave the solarium in a dust bin. If he was, somehow, giving me latitude to act, he would be a powerful ally.
“I can reach them,” I said after a moment’s pause. “Their defenses and protections are meaningless if I went after them.”
“I wouldn’t say meaningless, more like inconsequential.”
“This doesn’t track,” I said. “No one has placed a contract on them. No one would dare. We have an understanding. I do my work and they leave me alone. It has always been this way.”
“Until it changed,” Solis said. “This is not personal.”
“I find that every time someone needs to inform me it’s not personal, they are in the process of trying to eliminate me.”
Iker the Unseen (Iker the Cleaner Book 1) Page 1