by J. C. Mells
times instead of adhering so strictly to antiquated traditions.”
“So, what you’re saying, sir, is maybe this she-vamp doesn’t want to drain me after all?”
“You’d be far more of an asset to an old House due to your technological skills over being someone’s late night snack,” Hendrick answered, his Scandinavian-tinged voice devoid of humor. “Keep me in the loop. I am handing you back to Reyes, but this phone call will end in precisely seven minutes. He needs to rest so as to better control his blood thirst. He still has at least four months left for his change to be complete, as well as some extra recovery time from all the other…upgrades…he had done.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Oh, and Moused…”
“Yes, sir?”
“I look forward to seeing you tomorrow night…and…Merry Christmas.”
There was a click of the phone being passed back to Reyes before Moused could even respond.
“All right, kid,” Reyes added, as if they’d never been interrupted, “Her name is Catrionella Monsignac, and she works alongside Claude Toussaint as an Enforcer for House Toussaint, which is still officially run by his uncle, Henri Toussaint. You’ve studied the Families, Mousey, so why don’t you tell me about them.”
“I thought when you finally underwent the turn to vamp all these little on-the-spot tests would end, boss.”
“I’ll tell you what, kid, when you take the Turn in eight to ten years I might stop testing you – but no guarantees,” Reyes said with a laugh.
“If I decide to take the Turn. Don’t forget I have a choice.”
“Like you’re going to say no,” Reyes responded. “By the time it’s your turn, there will have been so many advances, this chip I’ve just had surgically embedded in my head will be yesterday’s news. Of course,” Reyes added, no doubt thinking about his protégé’s lady-stalker, “you also may not be alive by then…”
“How is my chip?” Moused asked.
“Your chip? You may have developed it, but it’s inside of me now. Technically that makes it mine.”
“You know what I mean, smart-ass. No signs of rejection? Any pain?”
A short internship while at M.I.T. had introduced Moused to some military-bound technology that had never worked due to the fact living, human hosts would reject any potential non-organic implants linked directly to the brain. However, a vampire wouldn’t reject the software – or at least that was Moused’s working theory. Reyes was his first trial. The master chip inserted in Reyes’ brain was mission control to the minute devices inserted in his right eye and right ear. In theory, if the chip worked, Reyes would be able to access the web, send emails, take photos, store data – do just about everything a computer could do with some limitations – all in his head. With the chip inside Reyes as the central processor, his phone and glasses as the screen and keypad, Reyes was the computer – or would be. The beauty of the project was that if it failed, with Reyes now a vampire, there was no danger of it killing him.
“I’m too busy trying to keep my frenzied blood cravings at bay to worry about the chip. I haven’t been allowed to leave this room for seven months, Mousey,” Reyes added.
“Hey, at least they let you have your computer. Could be worse.”
“Ah, there you are little Mouse. Wave politely to the camera above you,” Reyes said with a deep chuckle.
“You just hacked into Macy’s system, didn’t you?’
“You know it. Nice coat, by the way.”
Moused looked up at the security camera and showed it his middle finger.
Ignoring the gesture directed at him, Reyes continued. “I’ll check for this vamp chick to see if she really is on your tail. Though why any smokin’ hot babe would want to…”
“Anyway,” Moused interjected, ignoring Reyes’ warped sense of humor. “Getting us back on track, the Toussaint Family is the oldest vampire family in the United States. The House, which is very small, is still run by Henri Toussaint, as you’ve already stated. I can’t remember reading much, if anything, about a Catrionella, but I do remember reading about Claude. If I remember correctly, Claude is a little…touched…? Is that right? He was like that before being Turned. His unpredictability and psychopathic tendencies have caused concerns and made him the focus of many Council meetings, but Uncle Henri won’t agree to any suggestions of having him placed under twenty-four hour surveillance. Officially that is. Henri has his own people with him at all times, more or less. Perhaps Catrionella Monsignac is one of those people?”
“Yeah, Henri dotes on his psycho cousin as he’s his last male blood relative,” Reyes added.
“Based out of New York,” Moused continued, “I believe the Toussaints were one of the first Houses to shun the Segher House when Hendrick and Oscar joined forces with the Nowhere Wolf Pack. Many other Families followed their lead. Although they do carry a lot of influence in vampire society, they, like many of the other Houses, have fallen on some hard times over the years. That’s about all I can recall from memory. How did I do?”
“Not too shabby, Mousey. We might actually make a Ret out of you yet. Right now I can’t maintain the focus I need to really go through the Toussaint files with a fine toothcomb, but I’m forwarding them to you to read and study at your leisure. Which reminds me, did you get around to picking up those suits I ordered for you?”
“Whoa, boss, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. I got the haircut you suggested and I’ll get around to making the appropriate sartorial changes sometime soon. I promise. Let’s focus on the more important stuff for now…like…did you say ‘enforcer?’ Isn’t that just vamp for ‘assassin’?”
“Wait a minute,” Reyes said incredulously, “are you telling me that you just represented me – and the Segher House - at the Wainwright Museum wearing your ripped up jeans and a vintage metal T-shirt?”
“Come on, boss,” Moused laughed, “Give me some credit. The jeans are new, not a rip in sight.” Moused threw open his long winter coat to show Reyes via the security camera what he had on underneath: dark blue jeans and a cashmere sweater. It wasn’t a business suit, but it was definitely a step up from what Moused usually wore down in his basement workshop, a.k.a. mission control.
Reyes gave a heavy sigh. “To answer your question, funny boy, yes, enforcer can mean assassin. If this Monsignac woman is a Toussaint Enforcer then she’s possibly their head of security and then some. Watch your back, kiddo. She’s definitely much more than a pretty face and we’ve no idea what it is she wants exactly.”
“Or more specifically, Rey-Rey, what the Toussaint Family wants from us. Perhaps all they want is a little financial advice,” Moused said hopefully. “Or maybe they just want to beg our forgiveness for snubbing us for all these years.”
“You could be right. Although the ‘she just wants to drink your blood’ option isn’t completely off the table either,” Reyes said with another chuckle. “It says in this file that she’s rarely seen without Claude Toussaint. Since he’s one step away from Crazy Town, I’m going to guess Henri Toussaint has her keeping an eye on his beloved nephew. Claude’s last… caretaker… ended up being accidentally decapitated.”
“How does one get decapitated by accident exactly?” Moused asked with genuine curiosity.
“I swear that’s what I saw when I glanced through the file,” Reyes answered. “You can read it more thoroughly yourself. Maybe he fell onto a chainsaw or one of those wood-cutting tables.”
“Where did this ‘accident’ supposedly happen?”
“In Queens.”
“So, random chainsaw mishaps are a little unlikely…”
“Unless of course they’re being wielded by Crazy Claude, and you’re having a bad hair day and he’s determined to fix it,” Reyes said, laughing heavily now.
“You’re really enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”
“If Catrionella Monsignac is following you, then be assured Claude Toussaint is nearby. In all seriousness, kiddo, just make sure that if thi
s Catrionella, or any other chupa sangre, approaches you, or arranges for a face-to-face, that it be in a public place. Don’t put yourself in a position to be left alone with one of them, okay?”
“You do realize that now you’re more than halfway through the process of becoming a vampire yourself, you aren’t allowed to call them ‘bloodsuckers’ anymore? That includes in Spanish too.”
“You’re hilarious, kid,” Reyes deadpanned. “Just do what I tell you and watch your back. You do have your security detail with you right now, don’t you? I’m not seeing the entourage on my monitor here.”
“Spencer is with me,” Moused answered. “Well sort of with me. Which means he’s more with the car at the moment than actually with me, with me. I let the others go back home to Nowhere a couple of days early for the holidays. They’ll all be returning with me tomorrow night after Christmas dinner.”
“You did what?” Reyes exclaimed in disbelief. “Are you crazy?”
“Stop worrying, grandma. You have nothing to worry about. You’re the one all safe and sound in the penthouse suite of a Las Vegas Hotel and Casino. I’m the one who currently looks like lunch. I live with three wolves, Rey. I also have a werewolf driver and bodyguard. What could possibly happen?”
“Haven’t all your roommates already gone home for Christmas?”
“Not Theo. He opted to stay in New York to keep his girlfriend company while she works on some biological experiment