The Brimstone Betrayal

by Terence West

  "Time to go!” the commando shouted.

  Pulling a grenade from his belt, his partner nodded. Yanking the pin, he rolled it underhand like a bowler and stood behind the doorframe. The commando carrying me did the same. Lifting my head, I watched another alien just make it to the door as the explosion hit. A fireball ripped through the door incinerating the shrieking alien and the Troll right behind it.

  Not waiting for the smoke to clear, the commandos charged out of the door and into the warehouse. I could hear the compressed sound of their P90s firing, but it sounded distant, as if I were listening at the end of a tunnel. My body was jostled as they avoided more attackers on their escape route. A stream of blood was seeping from the holes in my temple and the back of my neck. As it ran down over my face, I watched it creating a nearly solid trail of crimson behind us.

  I couldn't hold on any longer. I closed my eyes.

  Chapter 29

  I opened my eyes but found only darkness, yet I felt better. The pain in my hand and shoulder was almost completely gone, while only a dull ache remained in my head and neck. I had slept, but for how long and where, was a mystery. Reaching up, I found my hands blocked slightly above my chest. Running them over the ceiling, my fingers slid across the ruffled, silky interior. I could feel the end just beyond my toes, and the soft pillow behind my head. I knew exactly where I was:

  A coffin.

  Relaxing my body, I closed my eyes again. It had been some time since I spent a night in a coffin's claustrophobic confine. It wasn't all together unpleasant. There was something about being completely enclosed in a soft, warm place that was almost like being a fetus in the womb again. Odd that a normal human's life span began and ended with this similar sensation. Except, of course, most didn't get to actually experience the luxury of their coffin. Their dead vessels were merely stuffed inside and lowered into the ground. The comfort of the coffin was only a final illusion that our dearly departed was safe and secure. They were meant to bring more comfort to the living than the dead.

  I heard the squeak of the hinges and slowly opened my eyes. It didn't take long for my eyes to adjust to the low light in the room. Tall, flickering, candelabras occupied just about every empty surface. The room's brick walls were painted black and covered with heavy, purple, velvet drapes. Another coffin, with a glossy black finish and red satin interior, sat on the opposite side of the room. Two beautiful love seats, almost the same deep purple as the drapes, sat facing each other in the center of the room while a large, black marble fireplace occupied most of the front wall. I think Dracula's personal interior decorator wandered into this room and vomited.

  "Are you all right, Rose?"

  Recognizing the voice, I slowly turned to find him standing behind the coffin, his arm elegantly draped over the open lid. Catching his unearthly blue eyes, I dropped my gaze slightly so I was staring at his nose. I wasn't going to let him put the Whammy on me again. Not this time. “Jared,” I greeted him coolly.

  He wore only a beautiful black silk robe. His hair was a little more ruffled than usual, but still nearly perfect. His muscular, nearly porcelain-colored chest was peeking through the v-neck the robe created. “I trust you slept well?"

  Sitting up in the coffin, I again ran my fingers down the silky lining. “I haven't slept in a coffin in a long time,” I admitted. “Not since I was a newborn vampire."

  "Why did you stop using them?” Jared asked.

  "Choice,” I admitted. “Trying to maintain the illusion of humanity is difficult when you have a coffin in your home."

  "Why bother maintaining an illusion?” Jared asked, almost pointedly. Turning away, he didn't give me time to answer the question. “Your friends are safe."

  I hopped out of the coffin, my ears perked. “Toby and Karl?"

  Jared nodded as he moved toward the love seats in the center of the room. “They are recuperating as well, and are protected from my brood.” Sinking down into one of the posh seats, he crossed his legs and adjusted his robe. He motioned gracefully for me to join him.

  After I moved slowly across the room, I warily sat down on the opposite loveseat and waited.

  Lifting a cell phone from his robe pocket, Jared then flipped it open and activated the walkie-talkie function. Three quick beeps signaled the channel was open. “Luther,” he said expectantly.

  "Yes?” Came the reply.

  "Breakfast,” he instructed the man and let the channel close. Quickly pressing the talk button again, he smiled at me. “For two."

  Once he snapped the phone shut, he slipped it back into his pocket, then folded his hands neatly on his lap. “You have been betrayed."

  The words slapped me across the face, and the casualness with which he spoke them made the attack all the more jarring. I placed my arm on the couch as I felt like I was reeling. I wasn't ready for that. I didn't even have a cup of coffee in me yet.

  "You have been played for the fool,” Jared continued, “but I saw through his plans and sent in my soldiers to save you."

  It made sense that Jared had his own commando unit. Perfectly reasonable, in fact ... in the Bizarro Universe I was apparently still in. I sat forward on the couch expectantly. “Who betrayed me?"

  "Ah,” Jared said, looking up. “Breakfast is served."

  Luther, a stubby man with a penciled-on mustache and goatee, wore a completely black suit with an ivory white tie. Reddish fang marks on his throat, just above his perfectly pressed collar, told me that even the help wasn't above being fed on. I assumed he was Jared's personal attendant, and snack when the occasion called for it. Luther was a Ghoul, a human in the service of a Vampire for the promise of being turned. Holding a tray with two cups and a coffee warmer, he quietly went about setting them on the table before us.

  I pulled my gaze away from Luther and back to the Master Vampire across from me. “Who betrayed me, Jared?"

  Jared wagged his finger disdainfully in front of his face. “We do not speak in front of the servants. They are not worthy of our conversation."

  But Luther was worthy enough to feed from? I hated all this aristocratic Vampire bullshit. I simply had no use for it. Sitting back in the couch in a huff, I waited for Luther to pour two mugs of thick, crimson blood, and be dismissed by Jared. Lifting the mug, Jared recrossed his legs and sipped the blood as if it were his morning coffee.

  "I apologize for having to discipline you in front of Luther,” he said slowly, “but in time, you will learn your place."

  "My place?” I angrily sat forward. “I don't belong to you, Jared. Never have, never will."

  Jared's eyes flashed black for a moment as anger gripped him. He didn't like hearing the word “no.” Still very intent on me joining his brood, he knew, someday, if he wore me down enough, I would give in. This was his plan: persistence.

  Of course, threatening a Master Vampire in the heart of his lair probably wasn't the wisest idea I've ever had. “I apologize,” I acquiesced. “I am a guest in your home, and I spoke out of turn.” I was just so tired of being jerked around. I knew that no matter how much he wanted me, it wouldn't stop him from killing me right here on the spot. I had to mind my manners.

  Jared swallowed his anger and dismissed my apology with a wave. “Don't give it another thought,” he said politely.

  Apparently he wasn't going to come right out and say who betrayed me. I had to take the long way around. “Jared,” I said carefully, “why did you bring me here? Why did you rescue me?"

  "It seemed the chivalrous thing to do,” the Master Vampire replied, then let out with a gentle laugh. “You were the damsel in distress. It was my duty to rescue you."

  I, like every girl, had visions of a white knight galloping in to save me, but rarely did he wear full riot gear and pack an automatic weapon. “But how did you know I was there?"

  "I maintain a vast network of...” He paused and tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Let's call them information brokers."

  "Spies?"

  "That would be ano
ther name,” Jared confirmed.

  I shook my head in disbelief. I had no idea the lengths he would go to. “You were spying on me?"

  "Keeping tabs,” he corrected me as he took another sip of the blood. “Sounds less nefarious that way.” Jared cocked his head slightly. “Is your beverage not to your liking?"

  I looked down at the mug of warm blood and realized I had been too wrapped up in the conversation to even acknowledge it. After what he just told me, I wasn't sure I wanted it anyway. Probably laced with a knock out drug or something of the like. I placed my fingers on the mug and spun it gently. “Just not very hungry."

  "Ah,” Jared said with a nod. “Too bad. Good vintage this morning. Twenty-five year old Filipino girl. Very smooth."

  His comment made me shiver. He kept humans like wine now? I could only imagine what his collection looked like. I wiped my hand over my eyes. Sometimes it felt like Jared and I were from completely different species. Although probably, in reality, he reminded me of the Vampire I used to be. Maybe that's why I hated him. It was like seeing a reflection of who I once was, and completely capable of becoming again.

  "I can sense that something's making you uncomfortable,” Jared soothed me. “Perhaps we can continue this discussion later?"

  "No,” I said a little too quickly and paused. “I'm fine,” I assured him. “Please, let's continue."

  Jared forced a smile. “If you wish.” He took the final drink of blood and set the empty mug back on the coffee table. “Someone is trying to subvert the Brimstone Syndicate."

  I heard his words eerily echo Chithula's. “Why do you care?"

  "I do not,” Jared stated clearly. “I care about you. This ill-advised loyalty to the Syndicate, I see...” He ran his finger over his lips. “I see that this is important to you. So it has become important to me."

  "All right.” I took his words carefully. Not everything here was as it seemed, but his explanation made more sense than others I had heard. “Who is trying to subvert Brimstone?"

  "Operatives within the government,” Jared answered.

  I felt the tale take a big turn toward The X-Files. “You mean the United States Government?"

  Jared nodded. “They want control of the Syndicate. For too long, Brimstone has been acting like a shadow government for Inhumans. The United States Government simply wants what it feels should be rightfully theirs, and they are in the beginning stages of a full coup."

  It didn't make sense. “Why?"

  "The whole coup can be boiled down to one of the oldest motives in the book.” Jared frowned. “Control. The government has been working for decades to control every action, every thought of the population. This had been in the works for a long, long while, and only now is the time correct."

  I stared in amazement. “How do you know all of this?"

  "I observe, my dear,” the Master Vampire answered. “I have been watching this country since before it actually became one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."

  "That would make you over two hundred and thirty years old.” I calculated quickly, but I was certain he was actually much older.

  Jared nodded. “I have seen it decay from a government by the people, for the people, to a corrupt organization of greed, ambition, and racism. They have slowly become aware of the Syndicate's worldwide operation, and now they want it all."

  I shook my head. “But the Maryut in the warehouse, how do they fit in?"

  "They are merely kin to Chithula,” Jared replied.

  "They're Jinn?” I asked.

  "Yes,” Jared replied. “Somehow, there has been some kind of partnership between the Jinn and the government. Details are sketchy,” he apologized. “But we can trace their involvement back to at least the 1950s."

  My mouth fell agape. “So the Maryut are really the aliens of abduction mythology?"

  "Most likely.” Jared nodded.

  I sat back in the cushy love seat and considered his words. As frightening as it was, it did seem to make sense. I looked back up at Jared. “But why now?"

  "It's very simple. They are on a very specific timetable,” Jared answered, “laid out in great detail by its architect."

  I cocked an eyebrow. It was the question I was waiting to ask: “Who?"

  Jared lifted his mug to his lips and took a long, deep drink of the blood. Pulling it away from his mouth, his gaze settled uneasily on me. “Chithula."

  I felt my heart sink.

  The Master Vampire studied my reaction, and seemed somehow satisfied. “Chithula gave you a name, did he not?"

  "Overseer Matthew Sumner,” I answered.

  Jared nodded. “Has your investigation uncovered any evidence that Overseer Sumner is involved?"

  I thought for a moment. “Not directly. But there is the question of where Maynard's orders to eliminate the nests were coming from. That would seem to implicate Overseer Sumner as he is the only soul who gives marching instructions to North American offices."

  "So it would seem,” Jared agreed. “Or is that what Chithula wanted you to believe?"

  I wasn't sure how to respond.

  "The Ifrit has been manipulating you,” Jared accused, “pointing you toward clues that supported his agenda."

  A horrible ball of worry began churning in my belly. “And what is his agenda?"

  "Ask yourself this,” Jared started calmly. “Why would one of the most powerful beings known to the Syndicate live in the desert outside of Las Vegas?"

  "He said he was fulfilling his destiny,” I replied.

  "His agenda,” Jared corrected me. “He made a deal with the devil, as it were. He's working with the government, and once you eliminated Sumner, he would be installed as the new North American Overseer. Merely a figurehead position as the government would run the Syndicate through him, but it would give him unlimited scope to basically do whatever he wanted. He could seek all the power and glory he wanted right under the government's nose."

  I ran the information in my head. That's why Chithula was testing me when we spoke. He wasn't trying to find out if I fit in some sort of prophecy; he was looking for a patriot to do his bidding. I was loyal to the Syndicate and didn't want to see it falter. I took the bait hook, line, and sinker. I was his patsy, his Lee Harvey Oswald. Carefully controlling every step of my investigation, even showing me pieces of the larger government conspiracy, he wanted me to come to the inevitable conclusion that Overseer Sumner was the villain of the piece and take him down. That way he could ascend to the position of Overseer and have me safely at his side.

  "And the copying operation?” I asked.

  "A two-pronged purpose,” Jared replied. “The first is simply as you would imagine, to replace Syndicate operatives with clones who will be loyal to the new order. That would ease the transition and ensure the government maintains control. This operation is in its beginning stages, but has already spread to every major urban center in the country. The second purpose,” he said slowly and deliberately, “is a bit more wicked."

  I leaned forward. “How so?"

  "Some Inhumans have amazing abilities,” Jared stated. “They have built-in biological weapons, such as the power to bend light around them and become invisible, or create thick, nearly impenetrable armor that can look like regular clothing, highly advanced regeneration capabilities, immortality,” he added with a nod to me. “The list goes on. The government wants this biotechnology for itself."

  "The experiments,” I breathed.

  Jared nodded. “They are using the cloning operation as a cover to abduct and experiment on Inhumans. And we have no rights in their eyes; we are merely wild animals to be captured and studied. There is nothing we can do."

  "We can stop this,” I said, shaking my head.

  Jared smiled. “Indeed."

  It seemed to make sense, but could I really trust Jared? Was he telling me the truth, or just trying to bend me to his will? “I need some kind of proof,” I said, readdressing Jared. “Something
more than just your word."

  Jared nodded. “I understand. And if it were I in your position, I would ask the same.” He again retrieved his cell phone. “Luther? Please see that my other guest is ready for visitors. Ms. Webb and I will be down shortly.” He paused. “And have the Werewolf and Goblin meet us there."

  I cocked my head. “Other guest?"

  Snapping the phone shut, Jared smiled politely. “It's a surprise."

  Chapter 30

  After excusing himself for a few minutes to throw on a pair of overly expensive leather pants, a white dress shirt fashionably untucked and unbuttoned nearly halfway, and to run a comb through his hair, the Master Vampire had personally escorted me through his lair. It was massive. Never having seen it before, inside or out, I had no idea he lived in such luxury. Far removed from the overt gothicness of his personal chamber, the rest of the compound was beautifully, and more importantly, tastefully decorated. Nothing seemed to be out of place as everything had a purpose. It was feng shui in its purest, and most exquisite form.

  Oddly, or perhaps I shouldn't think it so odd after all, there were no windows or mirrors in the compound. The mirrors were a given as they became useless decorations in a Vampire's home, but the lack of windows surprised even me. This place was as far removed from the rest of the world as possible. With no sense of day or night, it was a completely enclosed space. I imagined it felt like living on the moon. There was no need to go outside, or to meddle in the affairs of mankind, as everything they wanted was here. That was how Jared kept himself and his brood off the Syndicate's radar. But certainly it must be a slow, and painful death sentence. As Vampires age, their insanity grows. To be locked up in one place for the rest of eternity, despite how lavish it is, must be maddening.

  Vampires of all styles and heritages were represented in his brood, but they all had one thing in common: they were utterly beautiful. Every creature seemed powerful, elegant, and a perfect representation of Hollywood vampirism. Swathed in expensive suits, lavish gowns, and sipping blood from champagne glasses, these monsters seemed eternally ready for the ball. This was Vampire high society. These weren't the gutter rats I was routinely forced to clean out of abandoned houses or dirty back alleys, these were cultured and sophisticated reflecting Jared's image.