by C. M. Cevis
Roger sat back with a frown and crossed his arms over his chest. Well, she had that last bit right, he definitely deserved better than this line of bullshit she was feeding him. If he’d known that she’d turn out like this, he wouldn’t have bothered with her in the first place.
“I understand,” Roger lied.
“Really?” She looked so hopeful. Roger almost laughed.
“Yes, really. I appreciate your honesty in coming to me with this. And you’re right, the plan needs unwavering faith, and I’m glad that you were able to recognize the signs and let me know before it began to cause issues.”
“Thank you so much for understanding,” Remi said, a wide smile across her face that Roger returned.
“Of course, hun.” Roger already needed to replace Valencia, now he was going to have to replace Remi too. That was annoying.
“I… I know that you have to get going, you said that we couldn’t meet for long, but I wanted to tell you this in person. It seemed too important for over the phone.”
Roger nodded his agreement. “You’re right, and to be honest I should probably get going before whoever’s watching me starts to wonder where I disappeared to,” he said, gathering his few things.
“Thanks again,” Remi said. Roger nodded and smiled, and then slipped out of the small private room. As soon as the door closed behind him, his smile turned to a scowl, and he sighed. This was getting to be more and more annoying as time went on, wasn’t it? But that was how great things got started. Nothing went perfectly according to plan, but it always ended up being for the best in the long run. This wouldn’t be any different. He wouldn’t allow it to be.
Twilight outside had turned to full night in the time that he’d been inside the bar, and he hunched down in the light jacket that he’d slipped on not for protection against the elements, but as a bit of a disguise. He turned and made his way down the block a bit before quickly scaling up the side of a building and perching on the roof. From up there, he could see the entrance to the bar that he’d just left, and everyone who was coming and going. Remi had no reason to stay in there much longer. She’d be coming along any minute now.
It took about twenty minutes, though Roger couldn’t figure out for the life of him why. She walked out onto the street, waved goodbye to someone in the doorway, and began walking towards the building Roger had been sitting on. Oh goodie.
There was a small park just a few blocks further on, and around that time of night, it was filled with joggers who had waited for the sun to set to exercise in the hopes that it made the run a bit more bearable for them. Remi slipped into the park and hid herself as Roger watched on, figuring that she was about to hunt.
Remi turned out to be a picky hunter, letting three other joggers pass her by before finally choosing one to grab. Her victim went slack as Remi’s powers took hold, and Remi fed from her quickly and neatly. She left the woman on a park bench after inserting something to replace her memories for the few minutes that she’d been out of it and slipped back into the shadows. Roger chuckled to himself, she was waiting to make sure that no one else took advantage of her victim. That was adorable.
A few moments later, the woman woke up a bit confused but none the worse for wear, and continued her run, albeit at a slower pace than she’d approached.
Roger waited until he was sure that the jogger was gone and that no others approached and dropped in behind where Remi crouched. She stood to leave but didn’t make it far as Roger’s hands on her shoulders stopped her. He spun her body to face him, put his hands on either side of her head, and gave her neck and brutal and abnormal twist. The sickening crunchy snap was her neck snapping, but Roger had been mad and had given the limb a bit more of a twist than he’d meant to, leaving her head almost dangling there as her body sunk to the ground. She wasn’t dead, simply out of it.
He hadn’t wanted her to scream and bring around attention, which was why he’d snapped her neck first. While she was still getting herself together, Roger pulled a small dagger from his bag, one that Max and Owen had given him several years ago as a birthday gift. The dagger plunged into Remi’s chest as he roughly cut out her heart, tossing it several yards away before making quick work of separating her head from her shoulders. That part of her body was going with him back to the other side of town, as he had no interest in someone trying to bring her back. She’d abandoned him.
Roger slipped the head into a plastic bag that he’d thankfully happened to have and slipped it into his bag. The bag hung in a rather odd, bulky way now, but nothing showing would cause any concern. He’d just have to make sure to keep the head out of sight until he got downtown. That particular bag would go into the harbor.
Once he was satisfied with his handiwork, he pinned one of his notes designed to instill distrust in Max to what remained of her body and left it there for someone else to find.
He was gone in an instant.
~*~
SAMSON WATCHED ON FROM A rooftop across the street, well aware that Roger had no idea that he was there. He was so full of himself that he’d probably convinced himself that he’d shaken him hours ago if he’d realized that he was being followed at all.
That poor girl. What in the world had she done to deserve that?
Samson waited until Roger was good and gone before he moved, pretty sure that he’d seen Roger leave something with the body. He wanted to know what that something was, as it didn’t make sense to murder someone and then leave a note telling everyone that you did it or something. Was he some sort of serial killer leaving behind a calling card?
Samson started to move when the scream of a human stopped him, and he turned back towards the scene that he’d just watched Roger create.
A woman stood horrified over the heartless decapitated body, her phone already in her hand as she dialed 911. So much for seeing if he’d left something with the body, Samson thought to himself, changing tactics and going to catch up with Roger. Murder wasn’t a good thing, especially murder of another vampire, but Samson had a gut feeling that wasn’t all that Roger was doing. He needed him to lead him to whatever the bog catch was before Samson could turn him in.
Samson took off in the direction that Roger had. He was considerably slower than Samson, so it wouldn’t be a problem catching up.
25
THE NEXT NIGHT BROUGHT ABOUT the concert. Ottobar was packed with fans that had been invited, and while the guys were bummed that Owen wasn’t there, they were excited to play their show. Max had encouraged them hoping that it would lift their spirits, even without their friend. Part of him felt like he was the only one who should be depressed about Owen missing since he was the father. He wanted to do something for his son’s friends.
The bar had granted him and Samson access to a small private room, and that was where they waited for the agent they’d requested to arrive. They hadn’t been given a name to put on the list, and they hadn’t inquired about one. Max wanted to see if he or she could get inside on their own, just out of curiosity.
At ten on the dot, there was a knock at the door to the room. Max and Samson exchanged a look, and Max nodded for Samson to answer it, He couldn’t see around Samson as he opened the door, but he noted that Samson paused for a moment, and then stepped back out of the way of the person there with an amused look his face.
“I thought you said that you wouldn’t take this assignment because you were already biased against Roger?” Samson asked the pretty young woman standing in the doorway in a pair of tight leather pants and a tank top. Her hair was wavy and long, cascading down over her shoulders and while she could pass for another concert-goer as long as no one was paying close attention, Max could see at least three weapons hidden on her from where he sat.
“Is that his name?” the young woman asked with a smirk. “I didn’t ask for this assignment. I was told that I was requested.”
“So you’re the agent that has Mr. Blue in a tizzy over not following directions,” Max asked, standing and motioni
ng for her to come inside.
She rolled her eyes before she responded. “Mr. Blue is always in a tizzy over something that I’m doing. He hasn’t fired me, so I must be in someone’s good graces.” She settled herself into the chair across from Max almost elegantly, and Samson took a seat on her behind her. That seemed to make her a bit nervous, but she hid it well. If it hadn’t made her nervous, Max would have wondered how much training she actually had.
“This is the agent that showed up at the hotel the night that Owen disappeared, Max,” Samson explained from where he sat.
“I remember. Chloe, correct?” Max knew who she was. She was the agent who had survived being punished by Elenore. If she was human, and that was a huge if, she shouldn’t have been alive. And yet there she was. Max found himself just as impressed with her that day as he had been watching her walk away from her punishment.
“Yes sir,” she replied, as if out of instinct. The title made Max laugh since he was aware that he didn’t look that old.
“Sir, hm? I don’t normally get that one from people who are Directorate in some capacity.”
Chloe smiled. “While you may not look too much older than maybe twenty-six, you feel much older, which makes you my elder and worthy of a title.” Interesting.
“How old do I feel to you? I’m curious.”
Chloe frowned as if she was trying to feel him out in some sort of metaphysical way, though Max didn’t feel anything odd going on. There was clearly something happening, since Chloe’s skin seemed to suddenly take on a subtle glow. Max met Samson’s gaze over Chloe’s shoulder, and Samson nodded slightly. He’d noticed it too.
“I’d say at least two hundred. You aren’t that old, not the oldest I’ve met, but one of the more powerful.” She answered eventually.
“You can feel power and age? I’m impressed. I wasn’t aware that humans could do that.” Max said, calmly watching her for some sort of tell that he’d figured out something. Instead, Chloe shrugged.
“I’ve always been able to do it. It’s one of the things about me that caught the Org’s attention.” Her reaction and response seemed genuine, which puzzled Max. There was clearly something inside of her that wasn’t fully human, but she didn’t seem to be aware. She just thought that she was different. He wasn’t sure if that was adorable or dangerous.
“What about the other vampires that you’ve met. The ones that are older than Max?” Samson asked. It was a good question, and Max had told Samson to jump in whenever he wanted to during this process.
“Some of them I can’t spill specifics due to the nature of the assignments, but several of the elders were people I approached when I was tasked with finding an agent who had pissed off the Directorate.” That made Samson pause.
“You pissed them off?” he asked.
“Yeah, I have a tendency to piss off just about everyone at least once a year. It’s never on purpose, and often it’s because I’m following orders. There’s a reason I don’t always follow orders anymore.”
“What type of agent were you sent to retrieve that could stand being punished by the elders of the Directorate?” Max asked.
“He was vampire as well. Turned, but old.”
“What type of agent are you that you could survive pissing off the Directorate several times and still be alive?” Samson asked.
“A resilient one.” She didn’t even blink as she responded. The room fell into a deep silence, and Max and Samson shared a look over Chloe’s shoulder yet again. Both of them liked this girl.
“Tell me what you’d do first, were you to take on this assignment, agent,” Max asked.
Chloe thought for a moment. “Well, for starters, considering how powerful you are, I assume Owen is of similar power. I’d look into what can hold a vampire of that power level. That’s a short list, and it has to lead me somewhere good.”
Max nodded, she was right. It was a very short list indeed, and most of the things that could hold someone as powerful as he was, as Owen was, weren’t known outside of vampire kind. That was a scary thought.
“Can you think of anything off of the top of your head?” Max asked.
“Maybe a hell of a lot of silver heavy chains. He’d be pissed about it, but the pain of the silver burning into him would probably keep him still. Silplacid works on most vampires, but it wouldn’t work on Owen unless someone had done something to it.” Chloe said, thoughts streaming through her lips.
“What do you mean, done something to it?” Samson asked. Max wasn’t aware of anything that could be done to silplacid to make it work on a powerful Wellborn, but Chloe seemed to think otherwise.
“I’ve heard rumors that if enough magic is poured into silplacid, it’s powerful enough to stop a Wellborn. Of course, there’s not really a way for me to confirm it other than finding a powerful witch and incapacitating a powerful vampire. And while I could say that it’s for science, most of the vampires I know, I like and wouldn’t be willing to do that to.”
That was an interesting theory, wasn’t it? Max hadn’t heard anything about that, but it was something worth looking into, just in general.
“I wasn’t aware that Baltimore had any powerful witches living here,” Samson added.
“There are a few, newly imported. One wouldn’t do something like this. The other… might for the right amount of money.” Chloe’s eyes darkened, and Max got the distinct impression that whoever that second witch was wasn’t someone Chloe cared for in the least.
“But that’s just a rumor, correct? About the silplacid.” Max asked.
“Yes. So I’d probably start by doing like the police do when they have a serial killer with a fetish for hardware, and start looking for people who made large purchases of silver items lately.” Smart.
The door to the room flew open with such force that both Max and Samson turned in surprise. Chloe, however, was suddenly at the door, a rather large caliber gun in her hand and its barrel pressed tightly against Roger’s temple. Samson was quick, but somehow, Chloe had been quicker.
“You’d better be damn glad that I am not in the mood to shoot first and ask questions later right now,” Chloe said to a very shocked looking Roger.
“The door was locked, and I thought something might be wrong,” Roger stated.
“Bullshit,” Chloe responded before anyone else could. “I ought to blow the side of your head off just to teach you a lesson about privacy and knocking before entering.”
“Isn’t that a bit extreme?” Roger asked. Chloe finally removed her gun from his temple and allowed her hand to fall to her side.
“You won’t die,” she said with a shrug. “The spray would probably mess up Samson’s suit, though.”
Chloe returned to her seat in front of Max, crossing her legs and waiting to see what would happen next. Or at least that’s what Max thought it looked like she was doing. Samson sat behind her, an angry look on his face. To be honest, he wasn’t entirely happy with Roger barging into the room either. The door had been locked to keep people from intruding on the meeting. What the hell was going on with Roger lately?
“Get out. And close the door behind you.” Max said, squaring his gaze with Rogers.
“But I was just—”
“Out. I will deal with you later.” Max said, cutting him off. He wasn’t interested in his excuses just then. Roger looked rather dejected and slightly pissed off about it but backed out of the room and closed the door behind him.
“He didn’t burst through that door because he thought you were in danger,” Samson said from behind Chloe.
“What makes you think that?” Max asked. It was Chloe who responded.
“Because he’d have to be a complete idiot to think that Samson wasn’t in here with you and that Samson can’t defend you for damn near anything thrown your way. Samson could probably defend you from a dragon that swooped down out of the sky and ripped the roof off of this building. His reasoning is complete and utter bullshit,” she snapped. That was two people who di
dn’t like Roger. There was clearly something that Max was missing about his son’s oldest friend.
“Do you think that Roger had something to do with my son’s disappearance?” Max asked. Chloe’s eyes popped up at the question, her lips pursed tightly.
“I think that he is a bad person. I just can’t tell you how yet,” she responded.
Max had intended on having Samson test her ability to defend herself, but after seeing how she’d reacted to Roger’s sudden intrusion, he didn’t think he needed to see that anymore.
“I’d like for you to look into my son’s disappearance, Ms. Chloe. I trust you to find him and bring him back to me,” Max said.
“That’s a pretty hefty order, Max. I don’t know what’s happened to him since he’s been gone,” Chloe said. Max nodded, he was aware.
“I trust you.”
26
ROGER WATCHED AS CHLOE LEFT the bar alone. She stepped outside and began a slow stroll down the street towards where most people in that area parked once the venue lots were full.
“Max told me that you’ve been given leave to help me,” she said. It took Roger a moment to realize that she knew that he was there following her and that she was speaking to him. Well shit.
“I have,” Roger replied, stepping into the light since there was no use in being sneaky anymore. How in the hell had he known that he was there anyway?
“I don’t need your help, Roger. However, since I don’t trust you for shit, having you around does mean that I can keep an eye on you. That’s not a bad thing.”
“I don’t understand why you don’t trust me. You don’t know anything about me.”
“I’d advise you stop trying to follow me like you know what you’re doing. You don’t by the way. I knew you were there as soon as I hit the pavement. If I need you, I’ll let you know. If I don’t, stay away from me.” She said it as if it were implied that the directions would be followed. As if Roger couldn’t make his own decisions.