William hissed, ‘I have no fear of dying.’
‘Of course not, you are a Slayne, but you no longer have the option of dying - do you?’ Chloe hissed. ‘The time will come when you will want nothing else but to die.’
William stared at her in silence.
Anton implored, ‘you have what you came for - what more do you want?’
Chloe picked up the Papyrus, throwing it into Anton’s lap, ‘you can have that if you want - it’s a clever fake.’
She sighed, ‘the real Papyrus of Hakron the Scribe is encrypted and reads like utter gibberish written by a madman. This one is jumbled, but an order is apparent. It was written by a lesser mind than Hakron’s. It is a worthless fake to deceive the unwary.’
‘Do you have to talk so damn much,’ William growled, ‘just kill us already, your talk is worse than the torture.’
Anton and Anna stared at William.
What on earth is he doing? Does he have a strategy?
‘Oh, William,’ Chloe said, shaking her head, ‘there are things far worse than simple death, as I suspect you already know.’
Anton watched in growing horror as Chloe walked back to where Anna sat chained in her chair. Anna reflexively recoiled as Chloe approached, but she was unable to avoid Chloe pulling her head back, and biting deep into her throat in a classic vampire attack. Chloe wrapped her mouth around the wound and within a handful of seconds had drawn more than half of Anna’s blood from her body.
Anna gasped in shock and William groaned in despair.
‘Oh my God,’ Anton whispered.
Vampires were horribly real; he was at a loss to imagine what could happen next. Surely this was as bad as it could get. To witness your own mother drained of her blood by a creature that in any sort of sane world would not even exist.
Chloe stepped away from Anna, sighing with obvious pleasure, ‘there must be something about the Ramp. The blood of the Order is exquisite.’
‘You will rot in hell if I ever get my hands on you,’ William threatened, his voice shaking with helpless fury.
‘Oh William, I am sure that you will be there long before me.’
Chloe walked over to the case, retrieving a large hypodermic syringe from it, she went back to stand next to Anna.
She faced William, speaking with utter certainty, ‘you have insisted on lying to me. I am sure that soon you will regret that choice.’
Chloe plunged the syringe into the vein in the crook of her left elbow, drawing back on the plunger, she filled the syringe with her blood.
Anton watched on in uncomprehending horror as his father shrieked, ‘NO!’
Chloe pushed the filled syringe directly into Anna’s heart - just to the left of the sternum as if she was a paramedic delivering a vital dose of adrenalin to a heart attack victim.
The effect was horrific. Anton saw his mother writhe in obvious agony while his father cried out in despair. Anna’s limbs twitched and vibrated, she moaned, crying out, ‘no, please God, no!’
Chloe stepped to the side, staring intently at William; he wrenched his eyes from his wife and stared back at her, his face twisted with hate, fury and despair.
Chloe commanded, ‘Tell me where the real Papyrus is.’
William shook his head, whispering hoarsely, ‘no - I can’t do that.’
Chloe’s eyes softened, ‘I will give her a clean death.’
William shook his head in silence.
‘Marcus, prepare to free her,’ she commanded, ‘but keep her on a leash.’
She turned to William, ‘who do you think she will feed on when she is overwhelmed by the initial bloodlust? I assure you, the choice will not be rational. Will it be you, or will it be Anton? I trust her maternal instincts will protect Anton, which means that she will feed on you.’
‘You’re a fiend!’ William shouted furiously.
‘You are wrong William,’ Chloe said as if instructing a dull and tiresome student. ‘I am simply doing what is necessary. You could have avoided all of this trouble - just tell me where the real Papyrus is.’
‘Dad tell her - before it’s too late,’ Anton urged.
Disappointment filled William’s eyes as he shook his head slowly.
It is too late!
Anton felt sick to his stomach. If by dying, he could end this horror, he would willingly die. His stomach churned, he had never seen his father disappointed in him before now, it was shocking beyond belief. Everything was insane. If the floor was to open up and demons erupted from a fiery hell to drag him down - it would seem like normality compared to what was happening right now.
Chloe approached William, standing beside him. She caressed his cheek, and he twisted his head away.
She leaned down, whispering in his ear, ‘now William. Marcus and I will stand ready, and when your wife begins feeding on you, we will watch carefully, and Marcus will drag her off before she drains you completely. Now Marcus is very strong, even for a vampire. It is one of the reasons that I like to keep him around, so don’t assume that he cannot do what I need him to. Then I will inject you with my blood and in about five minutes you will be a newly converted vampire with an overwhelming and uncontrollable need to feed on the nearest human being - and who would that be?’
She left the question hanging between them and stood up.
The transformation of Anna had completed.
Chloe said, ‘the saber.’
Marcus pulled the saber from Anna’s shoulder.
Anna winced and then smiled, ‘William, my love. The pain is gone. I can feel my thigh, it’s healing. I feel strong.’
She moaned as if aroused, tossing back her long blond hair, she wet her lips with her tongue and said huskily, ‘William, I need you.’
Anton watched as his mother’s attention focused on his father. It was like watching a starving snake looking at a mouse. Chloe stood behind his father, resting her hands on his broad shoulders, she spoke quietly into his left ear.
‘After I convert you, and when you are done feeding on your son, I will convert him as well and stake him out in the backyard to await sunrise. You and your wife I will imprison in silver at opposite ends of this world ... Where is the real Papyrus of Hakron the Scribe? Tell me now, and I will kill your wife cleanly and spare your son’s life. I have given a sacred oath - it will be done.’
William looked down, his face twisting with anguish, ‘it is behind the picture that you took down, hidden in the frame.’
Anna thrashed against her chains, her eyes flashing with a terrible lust, she screamed, ‘free me! I must feed!’
Chloe ignored her, shredding the frame and extracting the Papyrus. She checked it carefully for about two minutes. She briefly closed her eyes, breathing deeply, she wiped away a tear with a trembling hand.
She stepped aside, smiled briefly and with an air of quiet inevitability, she said, ‘I am true to my word.’
The saber blurred through a flashing arc and Anna’s head slipped from her shoulders to the floor.
Anton screamed with horror while William wept with despair.
‘Marcus, clear this room and take him to the car.’
In moments, Marcus rendered William unconscious with the drug, he cleared the coffee table of the photos, business card and gathered it all together into the case. He then carried William’s limp body from the house.
Chloe turned to Anton, still tied to his chair, tears streaming down his face. She flicked the saber and his mother’s blood disappeared from the blade. She poked him lightly in the chest, enough to break the skin, getting his attention with a little physical pain.
‘You are the one that invited us in; you - in your ignorance and helplessness - became the bait that made your parents vulnerable. It is entirely your fault that they are dead or imprisoned forever.’
Smiling at him, Chloe said, ‘on the bright side - you get to live.’
She tapped him again on the sternum with the point of the saber, ‘one other lesson before I go.’
Stepping back, Chloe slashed his bindings.
Anton reached out, trying to catch her, but by the time the plastic ties had hit the floor - she had already vanished from the house.
Anton looked around in silence, the house was still; his mother lay lifeless in her chair, her head at her feet. His father had disappeared and was destined for a supernatural punishment.
Anton dropped to his knees before his mother’s corpse, howling like an animal that has been caught in a trap. Overwhelmed with emotion, devastated beyond words, he was desperate with grief and utterly alone.
* * *
Anton staggered up to his room.
This is insane, this is insane, this is insane.
He could not think. Images flashed randomly in his mind. The saber slicing into his mother’s shoulder. Chloe Armitage draining her blood. His mother’s conversion and her beheading.
It’s my fault.
He couldn’t breathe, he felt lightheaded.
I’m hyperventilating.
He sat on his bed, put his head in his hands and started breathing through his nose.
Slowly, in, out, hold my breath, in, out, hold my breath.
A thin veneer of sanity returned.
I can’t stay here, but where can I go?
His mind raced, switching between options before being dragged back to scenes of recent horrors.
How can I unsee what I have seen?
Canvassing many things, he quickly packed a backpack with a few essentials.
I can’t call the police; how would that go?
‘Hello officer, vampires beheaded my mother and abducted my father,’ he snorted derisively, then smacked his face and his hand slid down to cover his mouth as he suddenly felt nauseous.
It’s surreal.
‘The cops will think that I did it, or dad did it.’
How do I live with this?
What about my friends, they’re expecting me tonight?
Anton picked up his smartphone and it shook in his hands before dropping back to the desk.
Vampires are killing my family and probably still hunting me, the last thing I need to do is to get anyone else involved.
Anton resolved to disappear. His friends could not know where he was, it would keep them safe, and might keep himself safe too. He checked his wallet, he had a little over sixty dollars on him.
I have over a grand in my savings account.
He grabbed his passport.
I don’t know how long this will be useful but better take it.
Anton left his phone on his desk, anyone who might call it - he didn’t want to answer.
Anton gave the room a long, last look.
Well, I can forget about exams, looks like I just graduated early. So much for the Ice Hockey Scholarship.
He felt a sharp pang of disappointment as he realized that his budding professional Ice Hockey career was over. The feeling lasted all of a second before it was overwhelmed by guilt.
How could I be so selfish?
He rubbed both hands through his thick dark hair, before dragging them down his face.
‘Damn it all to hell.’
Weapons? What could I use against these people?
A dozen movies and TV shows flicked through Anton’s mind. He put aside the idea of finding Chloe Armitage or Marcus Drake in their coffins and staking them through the heart. They didn’t look like they spent any time in a coffin. Guns, you would have to be very fast to shoot someone who moved as quickly as they did.
Then he remembered, silver, they don’t like silver - they avoid it.
Anton put on his runners, a cap and a jacket with a hood. He stuffed some spare clothes into his backpack and put his sunglasses on top of them, went downstairs and into the lounge room.
His mother’s corpse still sat in her chair. He had been unable to touch her before, it was too macabre. Remembering what Chloe had said to him, that it was all his fault, that he had been bait, and his parents had been unable to defend themselves because of him. His breathing became fast and shallow; staring at his mother, the safe and the silver momentarily forgotten. Fresh tears welled up in his eyes.
‘Damn it!’ Anton snarled, ‘why am I still alive?’
He remembered Chloe whispering into his ear, “I am sure you will do great things.”
She had wanted him to live. She had a purpose that involved him.
Anton shook his head as his rage overflowed, screaming in inarticulate defiance.
He panted for a long moment, his soul on fire.
There is no way that I’m ever going to help that bitch.
He went to the safe, there was the silver and nothing else. Taking the coins and small bars, he added them to his backpack. As he left the room, he deliberately avoided looking at his mother’s corpse.
I need to remember how she was when she was alive, not how she is now - she is gone.
Anton went to the kitchen, added a pair of water bottles, some hard cheese, nuts and dried fruit. Anything that could be easily carried and would last more than a few days.
He left the house through the back door, made his way over the fence and into the nearby forest preserve and garden cemetery. Then he ran; as he left his home behind, he had an uncanny feeling that he was being watched, that the woods were full of eyes.
His skin crawled, he stopped, turning to stare into the shadows behind him - but there was no one there. Listening carefully, he could only hear the silence of the surrounding gardens, forest, gravestones, and the faint noises of the city beyond. He turned again, running for another two minutes, putting another eight hundred yards between himself and his home.
I have to get away from here, I have to disappear.
He pulled to a sudden stop.
What about my father?
He had been so overwhelmed by what had happened, with witnessing his mother’s murder, that he had momentarily forgotten about his father. He realized that he was the only person who had any knowledge of what had occurred, that he was the only person that could save his father or avenge his mother.
Responsibility fell like a dead weight upon his shoulders.
Rage, grief, guilt, terror, and despair, warred within Anton’s soul.
His stomach knotted; convulsing, he collapsed to his knees and was overtaken by vomiting. He pushed himself back from the mess, sitting back against a nearby tree. Breathing in the smell of the vomit made him feel nauseous again, and he gave way to the compulsion. Anton sat back again, wiping his mouth with his hand. He took a swig from one of his water bottles, swishing it around his mouth before spitting it out. He took a long pull on the bottle and the water soothed his throat.
Did she want me to try and kill her?
Chloe’s purpose can’t be her own suicide.
Anton’s emotions churned; his thoughts were leaves flying carelessly within a firestorm.
He remembered his father saying, “I will make you pay.”
His father’s words struck through the chaos within, fanning his rage.
Ghosts of the recent past flew through his soul, whispering, ‘your fault, be afraid, turn to despair, don’t care, be numb.’
But I do care, I can never give up.
A chaotic sea threatened to engulf him, reaching desperately, he found sanctuary from the chaos on an icy rock of fury. Dragging himself out of the clinging wasteland of madness he stood tall upon the ice that burned with a pale fire while lighting played behind his eyes.
Anton stood up. His eyes hardening as he said with fierce conviction, ‘I will make you pay.’
He continued in quiet tones of ferocious intent, ‘I know who you are Chloe Armitage. I will find out what you are and how to kill you, and when we meet again - then you will pay for wha
t you have done.’
Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he walked off. After ten minutes he reached the edge of the garden cemetery, stepping onto a sidewalk. He paused for a moment, considering his father’s fate with a heart in which anguish and cold fury stood opposed in a frightful detente.
I may not be able to save you dad, but if I find you, I promise you that I will release you.
* * *
Chloe lifted her Shadowstone smartphone to her ear.
It was already dialing the call. The system that she used relied on quantum encryption technologies that rendered the call both untraceable, and indecipherable to anyone but the intended recipient. The call was picked up after the second ring.
A familiar voice answered, ‘James Haley speaking, what can I do for you, Ma’am?’
‘James, I need a cleanup crew at this residence,’ Chloe said, sending through the GPS co-ordinates of the Slayne family home in Boston. ‘This needs to be dealt with personally by you. There is no room for error.’
‘Yes Ma’am, I will organize a team immediately and ensure that the site is completely sanitized.’
‘I have an additional assignment for you and your team. One of the terrorists escaped, I’m sending photos of him now.’
Chloe forwarded the photos of Anton taken when he was tied to the chair in the lounge room earlier that night. The photos were close ups of Anton’s face and did not show that he was restrained at the time.
‘His name is Anton Smith,’ she continued. ‘I want him found and tracked, but under no circumstances are you to approach, contact, or engage with him in any way. Report immediately back to me once you have established a sustained trace on his location.’
‘I will have a Panopticon search running in less than a minute after this call ends.’
Chloe could almost hear him nodding his head as he continued, ‘we will find him, Ma’am.’
‘Be sure that you do.’
‘Yes, Ma’am.’
Chloe hung up.
James Haley, head of the United States arm of the Shadowstone organization, would certainly do as he had been told. Chloe had worked with him for years, trusting him as much as she trusted anyone - which is to say not much - but she understood him and knew that he could be relied upon to get things done. He was an able and effective operator, previously with the CIA, he had been recruited into Shadowstone with the promise of being, “where the real action is”, in the “blackest of black ops,” in a “genuine transnational global organization working for world peace.” The situation with Anton Slayne was delicate, she needed staff capable of subtlety. James Haley was capable of being subtle and playing an effective role.
A Subtle Agency Page 4