by Sean Davies
“Take the stairs,” the MPK shouted. “I don’t want to reset that bloody alarm again!”
Genevieve left the station through the front entrance and looked wistfully at the few shops that were still open as she walked back to her jeep. She would have to postpone her retail therapy until the Golden Fangs were feeling generous again.
She arrived home in good time and saw that the answerphone was flashing. Genie grabbed some blood from the fridge and played the message.
“You’re wanted at HQ,” a brash voice began. “The boss wants you to bring Scythe and the restaurant’s earnings, too. Don’t be long.”
Genevieve sighed miserably. She had been planning on typing up her latest intel on Annabelle, but it would have to wait. Genie equipped her Katana on her back and packed a bag full of spare clothes, just in case she was stuck at the fort for a while, and she reluctantly left her apartment for the second time that evening. Genevieve parked directly outside the Woodsholme Grill’s entrance, just as Seth had done a few nights before, and entered the restaurant.
Business had definitely declined since the short time she’d spent working there. Only a few human customers were eating the delicious looking food, but most of the clientele were Supernaturals using the establishment as a drinking den. Dane rushed from table to table as he attempted to keep his masters happy, and Genie gave him a sympathetic smile as she made her way to the back area. The gang members either greeted her loudly or shot her nasty looks, but no one stopped her as she made her way up to the first floor and into Dane’s old office.
Scythe, the glamourous blue and purple haired Mage, was sitting behind a simple wooden desk. Her impressive figure was flaunted by a tight blue dress, and just like her male counterparts she was covered in gold jewellery. She was counting piles of money and writing in a ledger, and slowly looked up as Genevieve entered.
“What the fuck do you want, new girl?” Scythe snapped rudely.
“Nice to see you, too,” Genevieve hissed sarcastically. “Seth wants us at the fort. He wants you to bring the earnings, too.”
Scythe’s pen turned to ice and snapped into pieces in her grip. “Why is he sending you? Why didn’t he call me?” she asked angrily.
Genie shrugged. “I don’t know. Just passing on what my answerphone said…”
“You’re fucking him, aren’t you?!” Scythe rose from her seat and slammed her hands down on the cheap wooden desk. “He ain’t been the same since you came along!”
Genevieve laughed. “No, I’m definitely not. He’s all yours, so you can drop this jealousy crap. Now are you coming or not?”
“I’m not going with you. I don’t even want to see whatever piece of crap you drive,” Scythe said snobbishly.
Genevieve couldn’t help but provoke the woman. Genie walked over to the window that ran along the length of the office and looked out over the front of the restaurant. “That’s a shame. Seth brought me that one down there,” she said, pointing in the direction of her sporty dark blue jeep. “I wonder if he thinks it’s a piece of crap too?”
The air in the small office grew colder, and Genie saw frost forming on the inside of the glass window panes.
“Keep your trap shut,” Scythe warned, “and stay the fuck away from Seth. He’s mine. Use Archie or Chaz to fuck your way to the top, or Gaius if you’re feeling extra, extra brave.”
Genie shook her head in disbelief. “I’m not planning on screwing any of them. That might be your style, but it’s not mine.”
Scythe smirked. “Good for you – they’ll get bored of you even sooner than I hoped. Maybe I’ll convince them to make you my personal maid…”
Genevieve hated the woman’s attitude and wanted to smash her pretty head against the desk, but she knew that arguing would get her nowhere productive. “Whatever, I’m going.”
“Uh huh, run while you can, new girl,” Scythe cackled.
Genevieve’s temper flared, but she took a deep breath and spoke in a level tone. “I’m not running, it’s just that I don’t want to get your filthy blood on my Spell-forged steel… it was a gift from Gaius, you see, so it looks like you don’t have to be a slut to make it in this gang after all. I guess I’m just better than you.”
Scythe seethed with rage but said nothing in response.
Satisfied that she’d knocked the arrogant woman down a peg, Genevieve left the jealous Mage to stew in her rage, quickly hopped into her motor, and drove alone to Fort Dominia.
Chapter 6
Kill or be Killed
Seth, Gaius, Archie, and Chaz stood around the map table in the middle of the War Room, along with Genevieve and a few other high-ranking gang-members. The black-skinned beauty Varsara roamed the room in revealing white lingerie, passing out drinks from a silver tray to the Golden Fangs as they waited for Scythe. Genevieve received a tall thin glass containing a fizzy pink cocktail, and Varsara gave her a wink and a sly sexual look with her feline yellow eyes. Genie went red and thanked her. The drink smelt sweet and fruity, but when Genevieve took a sip she was almost knocked back by the strength of the alcohol. She took a bigger sip and hoped it would help to pass the time.
Genevieve had arrived at Fort Dominia hours beforehand, but Scythe was still nowhere to be seen, and Genie received an earful from Seth because she didn’t bring her along at the same time. Apparently, the icy Mage had a reputation for taking her time, especially when she wanted to look her best.
Genie was still unsure as to why she had been summoned to the fort, and the others just told her that it was about their ‘business rivals’ and that they’d explain once Scythe arrived. Genevieve drank the rest of the cocktail and asked Varsara if she could make her another. The liquor had gone right to her head, and she studied the woman’s backside and tiny white thong as she walked off.
‘Naughty, naughty…” she imagined Annabelle to say.
“Shush, you,” Genevieve whispered. “I’ve got to do something to kill the time, what would you do in my place?”
‘You’ve got me there,’ her mental image of Anna purred, ‘and I definitely know what I’d do if I was there with you.’
Erotic images of the three of them together swam through Genevieve’s imagination, and when Varsara brought over her new drink she blushed even more than before.
The scantily dressed Werewolf grinned as though she sensed Genevieve’s desires. “Anytime you want it, cutie…”
Genie gave Varsara a confident smirk, glad that she was tipsy, and could hear Annabelle giggling in her mind. Although, she did look down at her fresh drink and decided to slow it down a bit.
“Hi all, sorry I’m late,” Scythe said in a charmingly sweet voice.
The Mage had curled her hair and skilfully applied purple and blue make-up that was the same shade as her hair. Scythe had donned a long, figure-hugging blue dress with golden snowflake patterns around the seams, slit all the way up to her thigh and cut low enough at the front to reveal as much cleavage as possible without exposing her large breasts completely. Genevieve stared in awe of her for a moment, thinking that the Mage looked like a prom queen, until she remembered that her beauty was only skin deep.
Scythe threw herself at Seth, pressing her body into his as she snogged him shamelessly. After groping her ass, Seth pushed her away and rubbed his hands together. Everyone began gathering around the table, so Genevieve joined them.
The figures on the map had been replaced with different sized wooden tiles that had been painted with various banners, and Genie could tell from the style and detail that it was Chloe’s brushwork. The western half of Rura was covered in large tiles painted with either three hollow white circles on a black background to represent the Shadow Circle, or three black tears on a light pink background to represent the Triumvir of Sorrow. The eastern half of the map was less populated and shared with tiles belonging to the Shadow Circle, Golden Fangs, and Morriganigh. Genevieve was impressed at the level of detail that had gone into the Morriganigh’s banner and with Chloe’s a
bility to replicate it. It was of three black and white crows flying across a dark green background, decorated with interwoven light green and white tribal patterns and thorns.
Scythe glared at Genie from the opposite side of the table as she stroked Seth’s arm. “Honey, shouldn’t the new girl be off washing dishes or something?”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Chaz added as he confidently ran his hand through his spikey white hair.
“Nope,” Seth said firmly. “Me and Gaius want her here.”
“She’s smart,” Gaius began. “I feel… we feel, that Genevieve may be able to contribute to this discussion.”
“Gee, thanks guys,” Genie said, taking a swig of her drink. She hated being spoken about as if she wasn’t there.
Chaz looked shocked. “Discussion? No, this is me telling you the plan – there isn’t anything to discuss.”
Gaius glared at the Mage for a moment before replying in a cold tone. “Are you sure about that? I’d prefer to go over it one more time… I think your plan needs work, a lot of work.”
“Awkward,” Genevieve said comically under her breath, and then wondered if the cocktail was actually pure alcohol laced with food colouring.
Chaz looked at Seth, but the leader of the Golden Fangs deferred to Gaius with a gesture. “It won’t hurt to go over it one more time, Chaz.”
“For fuck’s sake, Seth!” Chaz said thumping the table, making the wooden tiles rattle.
“Watch yourself!” Seth pointed in the angry Mage’s face. “Now… discuss away.” He thrust a plotting rod into his friend’s hands aggressively.
Chaz took a deep breath and composed himself before beginning. “Right, well, we’re going to take the Morriganigh out of play by wiping them out right at the source.” He poked Gaelliard City with his stick. “They have close ties with the Ironthorn Private Security firm, whose offices and supply depot are both in Gaelliard. Gaius can’t tell for sure which one is their headquarters-”
Gaius pursed his lips. “I can’t tell if either of them are; that’s the problem, Chaz. Unlike some, the Morriganigh are very discreet…” he added insultingly.
Seth waved his hand dismissively. “Discreet is good, but we’ve stormed through our opponents because they cling to the shadows like the pansies they are. I reckon we can storm in, take ‘em out, and then mop up the leftovers that don’t go running afterwards. Which one do you wanna go for, Chaz, depot or offices?”
“Both,” Chaz said with a wide grin, as though he was revealing the key point in a wickedly strategic plan.
Genevieve laughed so hard she almost blew liquor out of her nose. Everyone except for Gaius looked at her critically, so she waved her hand apologetically and tried to stop her giggles.
“You got something better, bitch?” Chaz asked in an acidic tone.
Scythe chuckled humourlessly. “Yeah, why don’t you enlighten us with your wisdom, new girl?”
Eager to prove them wrong, Genie looked at the map and took in the positions of the banners, and then pointed to a small tile far north of Gaelliard. “What’s that?”
“Just a lumber yard,” Gaius answered. “Nothing special, except for a few Morriganigh sightings and the fact that Ironthorn oversee security. Probably a minor stash or a BW crossing point.”
“Then why don’t you go in and mess the place up a bit-” Genevieve began.
“What’s that gonna do?” Chaz interrupted.
“Not much,” Genie continued, “but if you get people in the city to watch…” She paused to wave her finger around in the direction of Gaelliard. “You might just see where the Morriganigh pop out from. If that doesn’t work, pick another little target and repeat until it does. Then you’ll know where to attack for certain.”
Gaius nodded his head in approval. “So we provoke them until they show us where their HQ is.”
“Exactly, Gaius,” Genie slurred, “exactly!”
“As if you hadn’t thought of that yourself,” Chaz shot at Gaius.
“It had crossed my mind,” Gaius admitted, “but if a new addition to our organisation can see a better way to achieve our goals than making an exhibition of ourselves unnecessarily, then that should tell you something, shouldn’t it?”
“I’m with Gaius and Genie,” Archie weighed in. “The Trinity have their limits, we shouldn’t keep pushing our luck.”
Everyone seemed shocked that Archie had said that, but almost everyone agreed with him nonetheless. Scythe and Chaz both bit their lips and scowled with disdain. The brutish leader of the Golden Fangs took his time looking at the map, moving his head side to side in thought, and then slowly nodded to himself.
“This ain’t a democracy,” Seth said, forcing the room into silence, “but I think the smart way is best…” He broke off to raise his hand to Chaz and Scythe before they could protest. “…for now. There’ll be plenty of time to do it the old-fashioned way in the future.”
Genevieve drained her glass and performed an elegant bow. “Thank you, thank you.”
“We’ll put things in motion two nights from now,” Seth began. “Gaius, get your people on lookout in the city. Chaz and Archie, find some lads with a bit of restraint to help, and Genevieve…” Seth grinned menacingly and licked his gold-plated fangs. “You and Scythe will lead the attack. This requires a delicate touch, and I sense some animosity between ya. So think of it as a bonding exercise.”
“What?!” Genevieve gasped.
“Oh, I can think of a more exciting bonding exercise for the pair of them,” Archie said with a deep laugh.
Chaz sniggered. “Now that I can agree with.”
Seth chuckled. “Knock it off, guys, I’m trying to be responsible here.”
Scythe moved over to Genevieve, who was still dumbfounded, and put her arm around the Vampire’s shoulders. “Oh, you boys! We’ll do our very best to get along, and who knows how close we’ll get out there...” the Mage whispered seductively.
As the lads hooted in approval, Scythe dug her nails into Genie’s arm, but the Vampire was still in shock and barely felt a thing.
“Get her gliding or swarming, Gaius,” Seth demanded. “And teach her how to shadow-shroud. Start tonight.”
“Certainly, right away, boss,” Gaius agreed in his charming voice.
Genevieve looked down at her empty glass which kept moving across her vision, and groaned. “Oh, shit.”
Gaius led her out of the War Room and to a locked storeroom filled with guns and ammo, reagents and potions, stacks of Imperial Credit notes, a few gold and silver bars, and small see-through containers filled with sorted jewellery and gems. He collected a small green bottle and took a wad of Credits, held together by a paper band, and handed them both to Genie.
Genie looked drunkenly at the bottle and the cash. “What’s this for?”
“The potion will knock the booze out of your system,” Gaius explained, “and the cash is for your good work in the War Room. You helped me derail that awful plan.”
Genie was confused. “How did you know what I’d suggest, though? We didn’t talk beforehand.”
“You’re very intelligent.” Gaius gave her a smile. “And so am I. I figured we’d come to a similar conclusion. All I needed was for you to throw some doubt in the mix, but you hit the nail on the head with your provocation plan. I’m very impressed.”
Genevieve blushed and necked the contents of the glass bottle. The liquid was spicy, but the taste didn’t last long. In a flash, Genie received a crippling migraine and ached all over, and she felt as though a hot poker had been shoved through her skull, but after a few seconds the pain faded and took her intoxication with it.
“Be warned, it hurts a bit,” Gaius said far too late.
She pulled a face and pocketed the cash in her white coat. Genie desperately wanted to count it but didn’t want to appear vain and petty in front of her mentor.
“I thought Vampires, and Supernaturals in general, would be resistant to alcohol and drugs,” Genevieve gru
mbled as they left the storeroom.
“We are,” Gaius chuckled, “but Varsara makes a lethal cocktail. If you were still human, you’d probably be in a coma right now.”
Genevieve raised her eyebrows and wondered just how much alcohol she’d ingested to overpower her Supernatural defences.
As the head of security led Genevieve through the stone halls of Fort Dominia, she couldn’t help but wonder why she was being sent along on the mission, apart from a laddish joke.
“Gaius, why the hell am I going with Scythe?” she asked. “I know I’ve got natural talent, but wouldn’t my extreme lack of experience endanger the whole operation?”
“Truthfully, there isn’t much to endanger. It’s a minor target, and Scythe is a cold-blooded killer,” Gaius replied. “And you two will have a pack of Golden Fangs backing you up.”
“You haven’t answered my question,” Genie pressed, “and unlike Scythe, I’m not a cold-blooded killer.”
Gaius stopped to explain. “Seth values strength the same way I value intellect and cunning, and he wants to see what you can do in the field. The whole Scythe thing is his way of forcing you to play nice while having a laugh at your expenses.” He narrowed his yellow eyes before continuing. “You’ll do fine out there, and like I’ve said before, you won’t think twice about morality when your existence is on the line. There’s no room for sentiment in survival,” he added nonchalantly before walking off again.
Genie grumbled an unconfident acknowledgement and followed the Werewolf closely. They came to another locked door which led into a small room containing nothing but a metal ladder leading upwards.
“We’re going on the roof?!” Genevieve asked in disbelief.
Gaius gave her a sadistic smirk. “The battlements make a great place to practise gliding.”
Genie didn’t move a muscle. “You’re kidding, right?”
Gaius shrugged and began climbing the ladder. “I was going to say ladies first, but as you’re dragging your heels…”