CHAPTER NINETEEN
The taxi pulled up in front of Palm Oaks.
Veronica handed the driver a hundred dollars, convincing him to stick around while she went in. She unlocked the front door of the building and slowly walked in, looking up at the stairs leading to the second floor. The smell of home cooked spaghetti lingered in the hallway. She heard a muffled cry of a baby coming from an apartment down the hall.
The smell of a tobacco pipe stung her nose.
The sound of footsteps shuffling across the floor echoed above her. She slowly climbed the stairs, carefully pacing her steps to avoid making any noise.
She stopped when she reached the second floor, watching two men in black trench coats walk from her apartment. They passed by her without a glance and descended down the stairs.
She needed just one sign and seeing their signature researcher trademark dress: black trench coats, and dark clothing, she knew they had arrived. She approached the front door of her apartment quietly, her eyes drifting back and forth to Murphy’s front door. She expected him to rush out, grabbing her and pulling her from the hallway before she made a sound but it didn’t happen.
Mixed voices coming from men and women seeped through the slightly opened front door. Cautiously, she pushed it further open.
Her couch, overturned with the cushions on the floor, sat next to her broken coffee table. They moved the television next to the bookcase in the corner of the living room. Researchers stood in her kitchen, her living room, her bedroom, and her bathroom, tearing apart her belongings. They didn’t block her from entering her own apartment, and they didn’t acknowledge her presence. They moved aside while she entered in wonder, stepping over broken pieces of glass and shredded pieces of paper.
They packed her things in medium sized boxes, labeling them and sealing them shut. They emptied out the cupboards in her kitchen, packing away her dishes, her microwave, and her coffee maker. Coffee grounds covered the counters and the kitchen floor, along with a mixture of milk and orange juice. The smell of a smoking pipe stifled the air.
“What the hell are you doing?” She screamed above the noise. All movement immediately stopped.
They silently looked at her.
“Veronica Austin.” Kenneth walked from her bedroom.
She swiped back her hair. “Kenneth?” She couldn’t believe it! Of course, she knew about what she called his “cock riding” all the way to the top in The Brotherhood, and how he became her father’s closest confidant. But for some reason, she didn’t expect him to be in Minneapolis as Region Leader.
And to think. She actually had a crush on him at one time.
“Veronica, it’s good to see you’re okay.” He pointed to her neck. “Were you attacked?”
She covered up her bruise with her hand. “Doesn’t matter. What’re you doing here?”
“I’ve come to take you back to San Diego.”
She held up her hand, giving herself only a brief moment to understand what was happening around her. “I’m not going back.” She pushed him aside and walked toward her bedroom.
She kicked the foam on the floor from her path, finding the picture of her and her mother lying on the floor. Her mattress, now inundated with slash marks, leaned up against the bedroom wall. She turned around and slapped Kenneth across his face.
“You and your friends have five seconds to leave my apartment. Now.” She grabbed a suitcase from her closet and began to pack whatever she could find: shirts, shoes, jeans, underwear, and bras. She walked into her bathroom, grabbing any necessary toiletries. She felt him still close behind her, following her. He spoke again in a tone that could only be described as a line taken from The Brotherhood’s manual.
“By order of Marcel Alvaro, Head Master of The Brotherhood, and Samuel Austin, President of the Midwest Division of The Brotherhood, you are to be taken back to San Diego where you will undergo evaluation according to the laws of The Brotherhood set forth by its founding fathers; Chapter Seven, Rules, Regulations, and Conduct of members.”
“I’m not a member of your shit organization.” She tossed the picture on top of the clothing, closing and latching the suitcase. “Now, are you going to leave my apartment or am I going to have to call the police?” She felt her eyes beginning to tear and her body shaking uncontrollably.
He moved in close to her and lowered his voice. “I don’t care if you come willingly or if you don’t. Hell, I don’t care if you stay here and end up like your mother.” His eyes narrowed. “But you will not mess this up for me. Just because you’re Mr. Austin’s spoiled daughter doesn’t mean you’re going to do what you want.”
Undeterred, Veronica smiled impishly. “Where is he?”
“Where’s who?” Kenneth questioned.
“Sean. Where’s Sean?”
“Don’t know.”
“Don’t play games with me. I know that my father sent him here to spy on me. I know everything. Where is he and what did you do to him?”
He straightened his black trench coat.
She walked around him and out to her living room. The researchers invading her apartment looked fairly young and new to the organization with their clean trench coats and pressed white shirts. She glanced around at the new Minnesota Chapter of The Brotherhood and cringed at the sound of her father’s voice calling her name from across the room.
She dropped her suitcase. The researchers stopped their movements and stood straight in their stance like programmed puppets. She looked over her shoulder, seeing her father standing in the doorway next to her overturned couch.
He drummed his fingers on its soft surface while examining the interior of her apartment. Kenneth brought a chair from the kitchen and placed it next to him. He then helped Mr. Austin take off his trench coat and Veronica’s father slowly lowered himself into the chair.
He puffed on the pipe in his mouth, placing his cane across his lap. “How are you?” His cool and collected voice sounded odd to her.
Veronica swallowed the warm spit collecting in her mouth. She already knew why he was there. For the first time since coming back to Minnesota, she felt defeated and she wanted to get as far away as possible from him. She walked toward the door and her father called out to her, telling her to stop.
Veronica slowly turned around. She expected the next words to spew from his mouth would be intertwined with lies and deceit. “What did you do to Sean?” She watched her father continue to puff on his pipe. Never in a hurry, he always taken his sweet time when it came to answering questions that he didn’t want to answer. It made Veronica miss her mother even more. Her mother consoled her and never kept secrets. Her father was the total opposite.
“We sent Sean back to San Diego.”
“So, you did send him here to spy on me?” Veronica bit her lower lip.
“Sean did what he was trained to do.” Her father spoke slowly.
She grabbed her suitcase from the floor. “Ugh, I can’t believe you.”
“Veronica, you must understand. This isn’t about you or about me. It’s about The Brotherhood.”
“Yeah, father.” She mocked. “It’s always about The Brotherhood.” She squeezed the handle of her suitcase.
“Your mother knew that. I knew that,” Mr. Austin continued. “Coming back here, trying to stir up old dirt won’t bring her back.”
“She isn’t dead, Dad, and this would’ve never happened if you didn’t play God with our lives.” She shook her head. “The Deamhan don’t want you here. I don’t want you here and I’m not going back. You can’t make me.”
Mr. Austin licked his lips and he looked to Kenneth for a brief second before replying. “I promise. If you come back to San Diego, I’ll tell you everything I know.”
“I have nothing more to say to you.” She walked out of her apartment and hurried down the stairs.
She pushed open the front door of the building. The taxi was gone. She placed her suitcase on the pavement and searched for the phone Nathan had given her.
Her fingers shook uncontrollably as her body filled up with adrenaline. She tried hard to speed dial his number, ignoring the sound of footsteps slowly approaching her.
She tried to contain her tears. How stupid, she thought. Even if they knew where Sean was, they’d never tell me.
“Veronica?”
She stopped and turned around. Murphy stood feet from her, dressed comfortably in a black sweater and white shorts.
Immediately, she felt her adrenal glands beginning to react in overtime. She took a step back, startled and on alert. “Get away from me.”
“What’s wrong?” He took a step forward, and she took another step back to keep her distance. His eyes drifted to the side of her neck and to the bandage.
She quickly covered it with her hand, trying to avoid his attention.
“Are you okay? What happened?”
“You,” she said. “You happened.”
“Who’re those people in your apartment?” He took another step closer to her.
“Don’t come any closer.”
He grabbed her by the wrist. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.” He smiled.
She slapped him across the face, causing him to release his grip. He pushed her onto the cold concrete. Her suitcase opened, spilling her belongings onto the pavement.
“Where do you think you’re going?” His gaze concentrated on her.
Veronica’s first reaction wasn’t to scream. Instead, she kicked as hard as she could, striking him in the groin. He hunched over and she kicked him again, her foot connecting with his nose.
Murphy screamed and covered his face. A stream of blood rushed from underneath his hands and down his sweater. Veronica stood up and instantly took off down the street.
“I didn’t want it to come to this!” He wiped his nose with the back of his hand.
She heard his harsh foot stomps behind her and she looked back. In his left hand he held a small lead pipe and the entire lower half of his face and his right hand was covered in blood.
Her breath expelled in a puff of white mist as she ran down the sidewalk. She slipped once on a patch of ice, almost losing her footing. Behind her, she heard Murphy scream her name in a blood-curdling voice that drowned out the noise from his sprinting footsteps.
“Where you gonna’ run to?” he yelled. “You have nowhere else to go!”
She leaped over a snow pile on the edge of the road and continued down the street, not knowing what direction she was headed. She tried to speed dial Nathan’s number again as she ran around the corner and toward a park. She opened her mouth to scream for help, hoping that someone would hear her. But her attempt was frivolous. The streets were empty, and she was alone.
Before she finished speed dialing Nathan’s number, Murphy threw himself on top of her, pulling her down into the cold frothiness of the snow. She struggled to push him off her as he dug his elbow into her back and pushed her face into the frigid snow.
Her face went numb, and she could no longer breathe. He grabbed her hair, lifted her head, and she gasped for air.
“Get off me!” She forced herself to choke out the words. He dropped his pipe and muscled her body onto her back. He then pinned her arms to the ground.
“Stop fighting,” he said. “You’re only making it worse.”
She continued to struggle, but he increased his hold.
“If you stop, I’ll take you to Sean.”
She stopped instantly, staring into his eyes. The blood on his face began to drip, landing on her forehead.
“Good girl.” He loosened his grip. “Good girl.” He removed his hands from her wrists but remained on top of her. “I don’t want to harm you. I’m only here to watch you.”
“Where’s Sean?” She felt her wrists throb in pain.
“Sean is preoccupied.” He smiled.
Veronica lashed out at him again, swinging her fists in a rage. He easily pinned her down again.
“Relax!” he yelled.
“If you hurt him!”
“You’ll do what?” He leaned forward, smiling. “You can’t do anything. You see, I’m up here.” He raised his hand, above his head. “And you’re down there.” He pressed his hand into the snow.
“Get off me!”
“Y’know, I was just starting to like you, too.” His eyes scanned her chest. “Such a waste.”
“Who sent you? Kei?”
He moved his face closer to her, stopping within inches from her mouth. “They offered me immortality,” he whispered. “Do you know what that means?”
Veronica struggled, but he pushed her wrists further into the snow.
“No more humanity, no more living in this shit world as a human. Immortality as a Lugat Deamhan.”
“You’re crazy. You can’t trust them.”
He grabbed his pipe again and lifted himself off her. He glared down at her, taking a moment to speak again. “If you run from me again, I’ll cut off your fucking head and give it to him as a gift.”
She remained on her back, frozen in fear. She wanted to call Nathan, but it was impossible. He squinted with the look of a mechanical deviant. She knew she was going to die, right there, in the park.
An unusual clicking noise broke their conversation. Then silence. Murphy looked over his shoulder.
They heard a quick, loud noise.
He dropped to his knees next to her, clutching his lower stomach. She lifted her body, staring at a sudden rush of blood coming from a dime size hole in his abdomen.
Veronica’s eyes moved to a woman wearing a thick blue winter jacket with blonde hair. She lowered her 9mm, placing it into her purse, and she walked over to Murphy. It took only moments for her to realize that she’d seen the woman before, at the burnt sanctuary home.
She slowly stood up and watched the familiar woman gently kick Murphy onto his side with the tip of her boot. She then knelt down next to him and began to search his body. Still alive, he moaned in pain with his body curled into a fetal position. The woman reached her hand under his sweater and to his shorts. She then proceeded to search his sneakers.
Veronica wiped the snow from her clothes, still flabbergasted. The snow underneath Murphy’s body began to turn red, soaked with blood. He moaned again, and she pulled back the sweater on his left arm, revealing his tattoo.
“They usually don’t get branded anymore.” The woman didn’t look at her. “It makes them harder to find.” She stood up, readjusting her blue jacket. “I’m not here to harm you,” she said. “But you must trust me and listen to me.”
“I’m not falling for that.” Veronica took a couple of steps back from her. “Not anymore.”
“If his markings are what I think they are, then you’re in serious danger.”
Veronica stopped. The realization of being close to death finally struck her. The Deamhan twins and the van, that was nothing compared to what Murphy might have done to her. The palms of her hands were sweaty in the cold winter wind, and her legs began to feel weak and unstable.
The woman didn’t move. Instead, her blue eyes drifted to the body then back to her.
“Are you from The Brotherhood?” Veronica coldly asked her.
“No, I’m not a researcher.”
“You’re a minion?”
She nodded. “Yes, I’m a minion. My name is Jessica.”
“Who is your master?”
Before Jessica could reply, Veronica felt a cold rush of wind behind her. In an instant, she saw Jessica on the ground with an unknown assailant straddling her. Gripping Jessica by the neck, the assailant’s moves was quick. A Deamhan.
Veronica reached for Murphy’s pipe, still keeping her eyes on Jessica and her attacker. The assailant’s black cap and the fabric of a long black dress flipped around during the struggle, hiding the assailant’s identity from Veronica’s view.
She raised her hand in preparation to strike, when the assailant turned and faced her. It was Anastasia who glared back with black eyes and her fangs extended.
Her f
ace was blotched with chunks of snow, and the sight frightened Veronica to the point that she dropped the pipe. She didn’t have the time to think twice. If she didn’t do anything, Anastasia was going to kill the woman who had just saved her life. There wasn’t any time to explain. She opened her mind and consciously invited the Deamhan to read her thoughts.
Anastasia accepted the invitation.
Veronica felt the front part of her brain began to burn. She closed her eyes. A feeling of extra weight overcame her senses. It wasn’t like the time Remy read her thoughts. This pain was prominent, almost to the point of being insufferable.
Suddenly Anastasia pulled out and she raised herself from the ground, allowing Jessica to slide a couple of inches away from them. Jessica placed her hands on her chest, trying to catch her breath. She then pushed back the sleeves of her jacket, revealing her minion marking on her left wrist.
“You know the marking, Anastasia. I belong to her.”
Anastasia removed her cap, and her dark hair fell to her shoulders. Her eyes studied the marking before she spoke. “Selene.” Her teeth retracted and her eyes slowly reverted back to its normal color.
Jessica stood to her feet, wiping the wet snow from her ruffled jacket. She kept her left arm exposed, giving Veronica a better view of her marking. Her brand looked roughly the same as Murphy’s except the letters were vastly different. They were darker, and the calligraphy wasn’t modern but created in a penmanship from years past. For Veronica, they were unreadable, but for Anastasia it revealed the woman’s master.
“I belong to Selene.” Jessica regained her posture. She turned her attention to Murphy. “He belongs to Kei.”
“I know.” Anastasia tilted her head, staring at him. She quickly looked back at her.
“Selene has protected Veronica. Obviously, Kei has no intention of respecting that order, so he sent this minion.” She pointed to Murphy.
“He said he has Sean.” Veronica turned to Anastasia but she shook her head.
“Unlikely,” Anastasia replied. “The Brotherhood has your friend.”
Jessica spoke. “Veronica, I came here to get you and take you to my master. We need to go now.”
Deamhan Chronicles, Books 1-5: Deamhan, Kei. Family Matters, Dark Curse, Maris. The Brotherhood Files, Ayden. Deamhan Minion Page 18