by Zara Novak
I looked at Wardorf. “How far is it to Monroe’s country house?”
“About five hours by car.”
“Is there a quicker way?”
“Chopper. We can be there in forty minutes.”
I nodded to myself. “Something tells me he needs my help.”
“Your help?” Wardorf said. “What can you do?”
It was a brilliant question, and one that I didn’t have an answer to. All I knew is that something had gone wrong, and I was the only one that could help. “That’s for me to know and you to find out. Can you fly this chopper?”
Wardorf nodded again. “Yes, but I’ll have to get a team first, storming into Monroe’s place is going to require manpower—”
“We’re not storming in anywhere,” I interrupted. “It’s just me. Get up. We fly now.”
“Sunset isn’t for another hour; I can’t go anywhere until then.”
“One hour then. Then we’re out of here.”
Wardorf stood up. “You’ve got to be fucking crazy. Monroe is the most dangerous vampire in this whole god damn game. There’s no way you can fight your way out of there alone.”
“I’m not fighting my way out, or in.” I actually had the vague idea of a plan now, but it was hinging on a whole lot of luck. “I go in myself, and I get Vincent out, this Monroe doesn’t scare me.”
“Rachel,” Tasha pleaded to me. “What you’re proposing here, you could get hurt. Killed even. Don Cartello might even be on his way back—”
“He’s not,” I said, taking notice of the sinking feeling in my stomach. “I don’t know how to explain, I can just feel it. Something has gone wrong and he needs me there. It’s almost like he’s summoning me.”
Wardorf considered me carefully. “He’s far away, but it’s possible he’s speaking to us through her. If that’s the case, then I’ll chalk this insanity up as a direct order from Vincent himself.”
“So, you’ll help me?” I asked.
“I’ll take you,” Wardorf said, “but if Don Cartello asks this was your idea. You’ve got another thing coming if you think Monroe will let you walk out of there with Vincent.”
I smiled to myself as I considered the words.
“When I’m finished, he will beg me to take him. You can be sure of that.” I turned and looked at Tasha. “I need your help again before we leave.”
“What do you need?”
I looked down at the outfit she had picked out for me. The dress was beautiful, but it no longer aligned with my current plans.
“An outfit change. Something a little more… terrifying.”
An unholy storm swept in as we took off from the castle. Wardorf didn’t want to fly the chopper at all, he kept complaining that the conditions were too dangerous. A stern look and an arch of my brow was all it took to get him in the chopper.
It looked like the threat of my power was more than enough to move mountains.
Rain and wind blasted the chopper as it took off into the sky. I have to admit that I was scared. In any other circumstance there was no chance I would take a chopper in weather like this, it felt like I was voluntarily climbing into a deathtrap.
Circumstances demanded risk though. Vincent was in trouble. He needed me.
Liftoff was the hairiest part, but once we were actually in the air things were less troubling. From that point on it was pretty much straight flying through the night until we touched down an hour later.
As Wardorf started to bring the helicopter down a voice broke over the radio. Wardorf warned me something like this would happen. He glanced at me and I nodded back, prompting him to give the answer I had prepared.
“You’re in private airspace,” the voice from the ground said. “Identify yourself.”
“Vagner Wardorf,” Wardorf said. “I have brought an offering for the release of Don Vincent.”
“Offering? What offering?”
“His wife,” Wardorf ordered. “The breeder, Rachel Chase.”
There was silence for a second, but the voice spoke again. “Set down at the front. Arms in the air when you exit.”
I was in. Just like that.
A moment later Wardorf brought the chopper down on the front drive of a sprawling country estate. A group of armed vampires approached the helicopter and aimed their guns at us, while keeping a safe distance. Wardorf shut the engine off and we both climbed out.
Wind whipped my hair and the long black coat Tasha had prepared for me. As soon as we stepped onto the ground Monroe’s guards were shouting.
“Hands in the air! Both of you!”
We complied and the guards came over. There were five of them in total, all wearing suits and holding automatic rifles. One at the front stood out. He had long black wavy hair and a thin scar running diagonally across his face.
“Casper Black,” Wardorf whispered to me. “Monroe’s head of security.”
“Cuff him,” Casper shouted to one of his men. The guard ran forward and apprehended Wardorf, leaving me with my hands in the air. “Explain why you have come here,” he said to me very curtly.
“My name is Rachel. I am Vincent’s wife. I have come here to negotiate his release.”
“What makes you so sure he is here?” Casper asked.
“He has contacted me,” I said. I knew vampires had the ability to communicate without words. While I hadn’t distinctly heard anything from Vincent, I knew he was calling for me.
Casper’s unnerving expression didn’t change. “What do you bring as an offering?”
“Me,” I answered. “Myself. I am a breeder. I’m sure Don Monroe will find that of extreme interest.”
The vampire’s eyes brightened a little at my prospect. There was a wariness in his eye, the same one I had seen when talking with Wardorf. I just had to hope they were all afraid as he was.
“Wait here,” Casper said. He walked away from the group and pulled a radio from his belt. After a short conversation he came back over. “Don Monroe would like to see you. Your pilot will wait here. You go alone.”
“Fine.”
“Bring her,” Casper said to his men. He looked at me again before we started walking and produced something from his jacket. It was a gag. “She wears this. She doesn’t talk without permission.”
My heart sank as one of the men came forward and fastened the gag around me. They tied my hands behind my back and started marching me forward. Being able to talk was a big part of my fucking plan. I looked back at Wardorf as they led me away, seeing the same fear now in his eyes too.
I was starting to wonder if I’d fucked up in a massive way.
The guards marched me to the manor and passed the front doors. We went down a set of stairs that led into some sort of service entrance. There we crossed through several armed checkpoints, weaving through a large industrial kitchen and a labyrinth of service corridors underneath the house.
Monroe clearly wasn’t fucking around.
I started to contemplate the gravity of this situation. I had come in here with a plan and it had been taken away almost immediately. Without my mouth I had no way to win this battle.
Or did I?
If breeders like myself really had this ‘voice’ then did it necessarily have to be one that I used out loud? Vincent had controlled me several times without speaking. What if this power I possessed was the same?
As we walked along the corridor, I focused my eyes on the armed guard walking in front of me. I had no idea what I was doing really. I just stared with all my intent and used my inner voice, trying to make anything happen.
Hey you, I thought. Turn around and look at me.
To my surprise he did. The guard turned around and looked at me. It wasn’t a glance either, he turned and stared while carrying on walking. I had two guards walking on either side of me, and one of them jabbed their rifle into his back.
“Eyes forward, Mike!” he shouted.
Mike broke his gaze and looked forward again. It was a small experiment, but one
that gave a little hope.
Maybe there was a way out of this after all.
At the end of the corridor another set of stairs led us up into the house proper. It was a nice building with shiny hardwood floors, oil paintings and vast white walls. The property itself definitely felt less like a home than Vincent’s castle. Monroe’s setup was more reminiscent of a drug baron’s fortress.
The journey through the fortress ended in a large parlor room that had to be at the very back of the building. The room was tall, long and wide. Huge windows looked over gardens at the back, where more armed security posts had been set up.
More guards were stationed in here, but right at the end of the room was the man I was here to see. He had a cigar in one hand and was facing the door as we walked through. The way he was standing unmistakably signaled that he was the leader.
Monroe.
The group escorting me walked me through the room, stopping short of Monroe by about fifteen feet. I was close enough to seem him properly now. He was wearing a white suit with a blue shirt. His blazer was draped over his shoulders. He had dusty blonde hair—greased back—and a short beard.
He wasn’t a bad looking man. Most would even say he was attractive, but there was something in his eye, a small glimmer that suggested he could fly off the handle at any moment.
The hairs stood up on the back of my neck, and I realized something in this room made my skin crawl. I only noticed what it was when I looked at the sofa just behind Monroe. There was a body on the floor.
I could just see two feet poking out on the hardwood floor. One had a heel, the other was bare. It was a woman’s foot, still and motionless. The rest of the body was lying on the ground, out of sight behind the sofa.
A large puddle of blood had run across the hardwood floor. Some of it was on Monroe’s shiny black slacks, though he didn’t seem to care.
He saw me take in the scene and smiled.
“Just a slave. She got out of line,” he said, his eyes glimmering with amusement. “There are plenty more where she came from. You’re a slave, you know how it is.”
I swallowed, breath rushing from my nose while I tried to compose myself. Monroe and Vincent were obviously two different vampires, and there was a very real chance that I had underestimated the man I had come here to deal with. I instinctively went to talk and remembered the gag. Monroe lit his cigar, filling the air around him with plumes of light purple smoke.
“She had an attitude. That was her problem. Human women tend to think they’re immortal when they think they’ve earned my love. The only thing she earned was a paperweight to the side of her skull.” He laughed and I then also noticed the murder weapon dropped on the floor behind him. A broken white marble ornament covered in bright red blood.
“How many slaves is that this week, Casper?” Monroe said to his head of security, who was standing off to the side from me.
“Four I think sir.”
“Four,” Monroe laughed. “You should see what I’m like when I’m in a bad mood Rachel. Fortunately, there are thousands of dumb leggy whores out there. They are a dime a dozen. Anyway, I digress.” He held his cigar in his mouth and blew out smoke. “My point is that I’ve already got enough cunts. What do I need with another?”
He stepped forward, still leaving about teen feet between us. “You come here offering yourself for the release of Vincent Cartello. Is that it? Wow. He must really have his slaves brainwashed. And they claim you’re a breeder too.” He stopped and inhaled the air. “While I admit you seem to have the scent, that kind of thing can be easily faked. Have you bore him any children yet? Have you proved that cunt is good for anything other than fucking?”
I didn’t say anything, I couldn’t, but the expression in my eyes was answer enough. Obviously not.
“That’s what I thought. You see, you don’t get to my position without being a little ruthless. Everyone likes to think they’re more than they are. You are just another dumb slave. Maybe you’re a breeder. Maybe you’re not. Who cares? I will fuck you a couple of times and if you bring me an heir? Great. Children are thankless maggots anyway.”
I had no idea where this was going, but I didn’t like it so far.
Monroe paced back towards the couch, leaving a trail of bloody footprints on the floor. He turned again and faced me. “What I don’t understand is what you expected from this visit? I’m not going to release Cartello. I caught him trying to steal from me. He will die a slow death here. Did you want to see him before I throw you in a cell too? No problem.”
The Don clicked his fingers and a door opened on the wall behind him. Two guards came in, carrying another figure between them. They dragged him across the floor and threw him down in front of Monroe. It was Vincent, bound in silver chains. His eyes opened wide upon seeing me.
“Rachel? What the fuck are you…” I saw him pretend to figure the rest out in his head. Then I heard something, his voice, clear as crystal, in my mind.
You got my message. Good.
My heartbeat spiked upon hearing him. I tried talking back. Again, I had no idea how this worked. I just focused on him and used my inner voice.
What do I do? He has me gagged.
Have Caspar cause a scene. Get someone to ungag you when the distraction happens. We only need your voice. With that we can do this, his voice said.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Monroe said. “You’re going to watch me rape your stupid whore, Cartello, and then she’s going to watch me slit your throat. I have to thank you guys for giving me something to do this afternoon. I was starting to get bored of torturing slave girls.”
“Just give me the necklace and let us get the fuck out of here,” Vincent growled from the floor. “Killing me is only going to start a war.”
Monroe shrugged. “War is inevitable. I might as well make the first move.” He turned his cold red eyes on me and silently nodded at the guards holding me, prompting them to bring me forward. They started moving and I looked over at Caspar, Monroe’s head of security. Something told me it wasn’t enough to just will a direction. I had to get in his head. I had to try and give him a thought that he would have.
What would a man like that think? He was head of security for a psychopathic mob boss. I imagine he had done some bad things himself, but I bet he was probably sick and tired of serving an asshole higher up the chain. I locked eyes with him for a second and tried to plant the thought.
Do something Casper, you asshole, I thought. This son of a bitch has finally lost his mind. He’s going to start another war and get us all killed. Everyone else is sick of his shit. Take him out and you’ll finally be boss.
The guards carried on dragging me, and Caspar, to my dismay, didn’t do anything. He didn’t move a muscle. His face didn’t surrender any inkling that my thoughts had just got through to him. I watched in horror as a sordid grin spread across Monroe’s face. Seconds separated me from horrific abuse.
“You know, you’re larger than I normally like,” Monroe said as he ran his fingers over my hair. He smelled aggressively of smoke. It was unpleasant. “It’s going to be real fun defiling you in front of Cartello here.”
“I swear to god,” Vincent hissed. “I will fucking kill you if you harm a—”
The rest of Vincent’s threat went unheard as Monroe’s head exploded. His body stumbled back and flung backwards over the couch, crashing onto the floor to rest with his dead slave. I looked over and saw Casper, his smoking gun still pointed in Monroe’s direction.
An audible gasp swept through the room.
“Casper!” a guard shouted. “What the fuck are you thinking?!”
“You all heard the man,” Casper said. He kept his gun pointed out, but I could hear the surprise in his own voice. My command had got through, whether Casper wanted it to or not. “He was going to start a war! He would kill us all! He’d finally lost it!”
“You’ve lost it yourself,” another guard growled, turning his gun on Casper. “Put the weapo
n down, you’re out of your fucking mind.”
Within seconds paranoia and fear spread throughout the room like a chain reaction. Guns pointed in every direction, guards instantly making silent affiliations with colleagues, or taking stance against others that they didn’t like. Half the room looked like they were in support of Casper, the other half didn’t. Everyone was pointing a gun at someone.
It was a Mexican stand-off of epic proportions, a perfect distraction. If only Vincent and I weren’t in the middle of it.
That’s Monroe taken care of, Vincent’s voice said in my head. Now we just need to get out of here.
I nodded at him and my eyes scanned the crowd. Casper and a few other prominent figures were shouting amongst themselves, quickly trying to deescalate a situation that was rapidly sliding towards widespread bloodshed. I found the guard I had tested my power on and singled him out.
Mike, take her gag off, I thought. Trying to make my voice sound like his thoughts. She’s the only one that can end this peacefully.
The lone guard broke his focus and looked at me. He very slowly lowered his weapon and came over to me. Were it not for the stand-off he wouldn’t have gone unnoticed, but he did.
“I don’t know why I’m doing this,” he whispered under his breath. “But I’m all out of other ideas.” The guard slung his gun over his shoulder and used his hands to unfasten the gag around my mouth. I took a huge breath and felt relief at being able to talk again.
“Thank you,” I said. “Uncuff me too please.”
He did.
Although my voice was the important thing in this situation, my hands were more important. Truth be told I was terrified that neither Vincent nor I were going to get out of here alive, even though I could now put my plan into place.
Monroe’s men were continuing to argue, the tension in the room rising while voices escalated, and nerves started to fray. I had to act fast before this became a full-on bloodbath. With no other option than to try my idea, I opened my mouth and shouted.
“Stop!” I screamed, lifting my voice high enough and letting the word ring out until all other sound in the room came to a halt. They were all looking at me, which was good, it was what I needed for the next part to work.