The Brimstone Betrayal

by Terence West

  "Luke,” he said as if the name sounded alien. His face slowly started to soften. His anger and pain were beginning to subside. He remembered.

  "Luke,” I repeated, letting him hear it. “Can you tell me why Brimstone would have sent the Cleaners into your nest?"

  The Frankenvamp pressed his hands to the side of his head as if it hurt to think. Which, looking at the gaping hole in his cranium, it probably did. “I don't know. We were legal. I was legal."

  "I know,” I assured him. “But was your brood doing anything against the law?” A trickle of blood ran down his bottom lip and started to pool on his shirt. His gaze seemed far away. I was losing him. “Stay with me, Luke. Was your brood doing—"

  "Our Master,” Luke replied, during a sudden burst of clarity. “Our Master abandoned us.” The Frankenvamp looked at me with despair thick on his face. “He said he would protect us. He wouldn't let them take us anymore. He didn't protect us..."

  I leaned closer. “Wouldn't let who take you? Protect you from who?"

  Luke didn't answer my question. His mind was starting to turn to mush. “He did this to us by leaving. Didn't he?"

  "I don't know,” I answered honestly. “But I'm trying to understand why this happened. You didn't deserve to die."

  "Seeker,” he added cryptically. I wasn't sure if he was addressing me, as his gaze seemed far away. Luke crumpled to his knees unable to support himself. He was just about gone. Another moment of clarity struck him. “I don't want to die."

  It was too late for that. His body convulsed as a throaty moan escaped his lips. Falling forward, Luke hit the floor hard. His skull made a terrifying crack as it struck. Watching the last wisp of purple escape his lungs, his body became still. He was dead. Again.

  "Toss me the stake,” I said, looking up at Crash. Catching it out of the air, I knelt down next to Luke and placed my hand on his back. “Sorry, kid.” With one swing, I staked him again, just to make sure he stayed dead.

  Scooping up much of my equipment into my black tote, I slipped it back onto my shoulder. Lingering just a moment longer, I stared at Luke's body on the floor. He was just a kid, in human and Vampire terms. Standing, I settled my gaze on Crash. “Let's get out of here."

  Crash nodded. “That's the first smart thing you've said all night."

  Chapter 9

  Admittedly, it wasn't much to go on.

  I had worked my ass off, not to mention the three hundred dollars of my own money I slipped to Crash, to find out that the brood's Master had jumped ship. And the new park? That was easily one of the most incredible things I had ever seen. Regulations called for the bodies to be removed, the stench of death wiped away, and any trace of Inhuman activity removed. They didn't call for the house to be inverted and a freaking monstrous city park created. That will draw more unwanted attention than the nest ever did.

  Still, there was the odd reference to a Seeker, and Luke's comments about being taken. The problem with reanimating the dead is their minds aren't always cohesive. Even though Luke had been dead for less than twenty-four hours, his brain had already started to decay. I didn't know if he was telling me the truth, or if his brain was trying to understand random memories that were meshed together. It was too hard to tell. That's why reanimation had been effectively abandoned by Brimstone as a means of information gathering.

  There were a lot of things that just didn't seem to add up. But I didn't know what to do with it. I didn't know where to go from here. And the worst part? I didn't even find the ID card. Maynard wasn't happy when I phoned in my report. Forget Maynard, I wasn't happy.

  I signaled the bartender to refill my glass.

  After returning Crash to the Aztec, he disappeared into the wilds of Club Toltec, no doubt to try and recover his whores with the money he had earned. With nowhere to go and nowhere to be, I decided to drown my concerns at the bar. It seemed like the only logical thing to do. I was on suspension after all.

  The constant thump of bass mixed with the multitude of neon was making my head hurt. It could have something to do with the four Hurricanes I'd had, but I couldn't be sure. Worst of all, I was starving. I had forgotten, again, to hit the blood bank at work and refill my supply. It had been three days since any blood had touched my lips. A Vampire didn't need to ingest blood every day to survive, but it certainly put me in a better mood.

  The bartender, a svelte young thing with breasts that seemed to defy gravity, placed a thick glass in front of me. I looked up into her soft, brown eyes slightly confused. “This isn't what I ordered."

  She stared back at me, the emotion washing from her face. Pulling my gaze away I muttered a curse under my breath. She wasn't very strong-willed if all it took to put the whammy on her was to look into my eyes. That particular personality trait infuriated me. I bet she wasn't even capable of making her own decisions, and needed to have a lover to validate her very existence. I lifted my hand and snapped my fingers in front of her face. She shook her head once looking disoriented. I held up the drink. “Hey, this isn't what I wanted."

  It took her a minute, but she realized what she'd been doing. “Oh.” She pointed over my shoulder. “Compliments of that gentleman over there.” Throwing her hand towel back over her shoulder, she turned and walked away slightly bewildered.

  Frustrated, I hung my head. I hated bars. Why is it that a woman couldn't walk into one without getting the obligatory free drinks and request for her phone number? I just wanted a nice, quiet drink. Was that so much to ask?

  Apparently so.

  Curiosity overwhelmed me. Turning on my stool, I shot a quick glance over my shoulder. I didn't know it was possible, but my mood worsened. How the hell did he keep finding me?

  "Hello, Rosy."

  "Jared,” I acknowledged as emotionlessly as I could manage. His unearthly blue eyes appeared luminous in the low light.

  I kept my gaze from meeting his, all the while trying not to seem as though I was. No one was exactly sure how old Jared was. He had somehow skillfully avoided a paper trail that seemed to plague most really old Vampires. He had even avoided Brimstone. The first entry in the database had been input by me only about a year ago after he first approached me. He was good. There was no doubt about that.

  Jared pushed his black leather jacket aside and slid onto the empty stool next to mine. “How can Brimstone keep such a beautiful Vampire away from the moonlight?"

  Now this was more like the Jared I knew. He seemed like himself again, instead of the unsure Vampire I had encountered in the parking garage. Probably because he was drunk. “Been busy,” was all I could think to reply.

  Setting his glass on the bar, his hands moved languidly toward mine. I wanted to shrink away, but didn't want to show fear. As his pale fingertips met the back of my hand, I felt a tremor run up my arm. It was almost electric. I turned away from him, focusing instead on the glass of wine he had ordered for me.

  "I haven't received your answer yet.” His voice sounded far away, almost lost in the thrum of the club's bass. “I have been waiting so long for you, Rosy. Don't make me wait anymore."

  Dammit! He was trying to put the whammy on me. And it was starting to work. What was I saying about weak-willed people? I take it back. I needed to get out of here and away from him. “Listen, Jared, I've had a long day."

  "They treat you so unfairly at Brimstone,” he acknowledged. “If you accept my offer, you would never have to work again. You would be a queen."

  I had to admit, that sounded pretty good right now. I shook my head. I had to be strong. “I am not joining your brood. I'm sorry."

  "How can you say that?” Jared recoiled. “Brimstone makes you drink that horrible fake blood, and work with those barbaric Werewolves. It's inhumane. You are a predator, not a caged animal. How can they deny you the hunt?” He licked his pale lips, exposing a hint of his fangs. “And now you are suspended because a group of Werewolves botched an assignment?"

  My eyes widened for a moment, but I controlled my emotions
. How does he know about that?

  "You deserve more, Rosy,” he continued. “You will find that in my brood,” he paused, “and more.” Spinning his glass gently between his fingertips, the rest of his body became still, waiting.

  "I...” Dammit. I wanted what he was offering. I really wanted it. My fingers ached to run down his chest, and over his perfect face. His scent seemed to envelop and dance around me playfully. I wanted him in that moment. No, I craved him. He would make me a predator again, kill indiscriminately, and allow me to live life to its fullest potential. I realized in that moment I was wasting my afterlife in Brimstone's service. Turning toward him on the stool, I was about to give in.

  "Rose,” said a familiar, but somehow distant voice.

  Using every shred of concentration I had left, I turned away from Jared. As if emerging from water, the world around me burst into existence again. “Crash?"

  Crash stood a safe distance from Jared, but close enough that he could put himself between us if need be. “Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

  My head throbbed as I tried to cut through the fog that had settled there. I ran my hand slowly down my face as my focus returned. I heard Jared curse under his breath so quietly that I barely heard it. “Crash,” I motioned toward the Master Vampire at my side without looking at him, “this is Jared."

  "Pleasure,” Crash said quickly before turning back to me. “Listen, Rose, I got a lead for you. Didn't think you'd mind me butting in."

  "No,” I replied, trying to hide my smile. “That's fine. Thank you.” I stood from my stool without looking at Jared. “Sorry. Duty calls. If you'll excuse me."

  Jared frowned deeply contorting his perfect face into something monstrous. “There will be another time.” Sweeping off his stool with a flash of leather that almost seemed like bat wings, he disappeared into the crowd without another word. His anger was almost palpable.

  Waiting until I was sure Jared was out of earshot, I nodded to Crash. “Thank you."

  "No worries,” he replied almost modestly. “Didn't like the look of that bloke. Eurotrash. Could smell his disgusting cologne halfway across the club."

  Crash started to turn away, but I stopped him. I had to know. “Why did you help me?"

  The Raze Demon smiled broadly. “Now you owe me one.” He started back into the crowd. “And I won't forget, Seeker."

  I watched him disappear into the mass of people as well. Realizing I needed to vacate before Jared decided to return, I pulled several bills from my pocket and dropped them on the bar next to my empties. It was time to go home for the night.

  I really needed to stop coming to bars. Bad things always seem to happen.

  Chapter 10

  Claws and fangs ripped at me. The darkness seemed to swirl and fold in on me again and again. I tried to fight it; I tried to get away. Swinging wildly, I only heard their laughter. I wanted desperately to go home. I wanted to see my husband and daughter. They were all I could think of as I fought. I had to get free of this place. I ran, screaming at the top of my lungs. Why could no one hear me? Why would no one help me? I knew this place. I had seen it before. My mind started to whirl as the darkness swarmed again. I felt a pair of arms clamp over my chest and razor-sharp fangs sink into my neck again.

  I sat straight up and realized I was alone in my bed. Nothing had changed. It was just a bad dream. Leaning forward, I placed my head in my hands. It struck me as slightly amusing that I, a Vampire, had a nightmare. I was supposed to be the stuff of nightmares, not having them. I let the thought fade as I turned and dropped my legs over the edge of the bed.

  Lifting my arms above my head, I arched my back and stretched like a cat after a long and restless sleep. Collapsing onto myself with a yawn—some things never change, alive or dead—I lifted the heavy curtains on my window and stared into the darkness. The lights of Glitter Gulch were sparkling brightly in the crisp night air, truly a sight to behold. It was true what they said: there really was no place on Earth like Las Vegas.

  My mind wandered back to the dream. I hadn't thought about that place, that night in a long, long time. I felt wrong and I couldn't exactly explain why. I was just off slightly. My mind was somewhere else, somewhere dark.

  Snatching my worn wool robe from the back of my closet door, I pulled it over my naked body and enjoyed the warm comfort it offered. The dark blue fabric robe was starting to fray badly after years of use, but it didn't bother me. I really liked it. After putting my hair up in a messy ponytail with a scrunchy I found on my dresser, I sauntered through the living room toward the kitchen. Still a bit groggy, I pulled open the fridge possibly expecting a miracle or hoping the grocery fairy had visited me during the day.

  Still empty. Good thing I couldn't starve to death. I would have to visit Brimstone tonight whether I wanted to or not. I had to get more blood.

  Pushing the door closed, I spun and stared at the mess on my kitchen counter. There was a coffee pot here ... somewhere. Turning slightly, I spotted Mr. Coffee's smooth, white top partially buried by a stack of unopened mail. Brushing the envelopes promising I might already be a winner, and the postcards claiming I could lower my home mortgage rate onto the floor, I pulled the glass pot from the base and walked to the sink. Popping the top and cranking open the tap, I wondered if the bulk mail companies ever did any research before they sent out their offers. First, I didn't have a house or a mortgage to refinance, and secondly, I was dead. That pretty much excluded me from any of their offers.

  Glancing down into the sink, I watched the water overflow the pot and drench the sleeve of my robe. With a sigh of frustration, I snapped off the tap and realized it was going to be that kind of day. Dumping a bit of the water out into the sink first, I poured the remainder into Mr. Coffee. Sliding the pot back onto the warmer, I started the search for filters, and the all-important coffee. Fairly certain I had some, I pulled open cabinet after cabinet until I spotted a red and orange can. Another quick rummage proved I had no filters. Being a student of 80's television icon MacGyver, I used the next best thing: a couple of paper towels and scotch tape. Dropping a couple of heaping scoops of coffee into my makeshift filter, and reasonably satisfied it would work, I turned it on and headed toward the living room.

  Pushing a pile of dirty clothes onto the floor, I crumbled into my couch. It had certainly seen better days, as had everything in my apartment. Most Vampires were snobs when it came to decorating their lairs. They wanted the most stylish furniture, the most lavish decorations, and the latest technology with which to surround themselves. I seemed to be the exception to the rule. I just didn't care. The couch was old, but it was comfortable. Propping my feet up on an equally old end table, I listened to the coffee brewing in the kitchen. Pressing my knuckle to my bottom lip, I started to chew on the inside.

  Something was stuck in my craw. It didn't seem possible, yet I kept coming back to it every time I ran the information in my head: Brimstone was covering something up, perhaps its own tracks? It was the only solution that fit the puzzle. But then again, why did it seem so far-fetched? It was an organization swathed in deceit and disinformation. Brimstone was surreptitious by nature and its mandate was to keep the inhuman population a secret from humans. Why was it so hard to believe it was doing something nefarious right under my nose?

  Because even though Brimstone may be a cloak-and-dagger operation, it was a good operation. It policed, served, and took care of Inhumans. It wasn't like if a Werewolf caught the flu, it could go to the doctor. That could raise too many questions. Suppose the doctor wanted to take a blood sample? How would the wolf explain the unique characteristics of his blood and body? It was only a hop in logic from there to find the Werewolf in a laboratory being dissected. Personally, that wasn't how I wanted to spend the rest of my eternity. There was only one place for Inhumans to turn: Brimstone. It was all we had.

  I was treading a dangerous path. If I didn't find the evidence to support my claim, I was facing dismissal, and possible d
eath. But if I found evidence that Brimstone was killing Inhumans, I was facing certain death. Either way, things didn't look good for me.

  A loud knock on my front door startled me. Pulling my robe tightly around me, I walked to the door and peered through the peephole. A smile crossed my lips. Pulling open the door, I stepped aside to allow the Werewolf to enter.

  Toby looked me over. An odd look of bemusement dawned on his face. I think the robe threw him off. “It's a good thing one of us is trying to get our suspensions overturned."

  "I just woke up,” I growled. I pointed to myself. “Vampire, remember? Nocturnal? Ring a bell?"

  Toby laughed. He started to step inside, but hesitated. “Do I need permission or something like that?"

  I shook my head. “It's Vampires who need permission to enter your home, not vice versa. And anyway, that's an old wives tale. Didn't they teach you anything in Seeker school?"

  "Take it up with my teacher,” he jabbed.

  "But I was your...” I let the thought die, realizing it was a knock at me. I really was groggy. I needed coffee.

  Toby stepped inside and stared at my messy home. A crooked smile appeared on his face. “You eat the cleaning lady?"

  Choosing not to laugh, I closed the door behind him and walked back into the kitchen. Grabbing a mug from the cabinet, I left it open and hesitantly kept my hand inside. “Coffee?"

  The Werewolf cocked his head slightly. “At ten at night? Pass.” Toby moved toward the living room.

  "Your loss,” I said, closing the cabinet. Pulling the pot free, I poured the heady, black liquid into my ceramic mug. A picture of a kitten hanging from a clothesline with a caption that read, “Hang in there, baby,” adorned the side. I thought quickly of breaking the mug and hiding the pieces, but at this point it didn't matter. My image was already ruined the moment Toby saw my apartment. I'm sure he was expecting coffins, bondage equipment, and chains hanging from the walls.