Vampire Ascendance

by Alex Dire

  Kara looked to another wolf. “Show him, Claude.”

  One of wolves reached into a pocket and produced a photograph. He held it out.

  Norman stepped toward them and grasped for the photo.

  Claude snatched it away and handed it to Adrian.

  Adrian looked down at the picture and back up at Norman, his eyes wide with shock. “What’s the meaning of this, Norman?”

  He shoved the picture out. Norman took it and looked. It showed Walsh sitting at a desk and Skeete leaning over and speaking into his ear.

  Claude said, “We agreed to go along with you and Walsh. Not with Skeete. This changes everything. We could stomach Walsh. But Skeete?”

  Norman raced through scenarios that might put the two together. He looked up from the picture. “It’s just politics. You don’t have to worry about Skeete Daniels any more. We have much bigger problems.”

  “You have bigger problems,” said Kara.

  “Let him speak,” said Adrian staring her down.

  Claude and the other men made subtle growling sounds.

  “Skeete is not an issue. Walsh has his Vampire Registration Bill. That’s the thing. Now that I’m on the inside, I can influence him.”

  “Apparently so can she,” said Claude.

  If the wolves got involved in this, things could get out of hand. All Norman needed was more public bloodshed. “Let me take care of that.”

  Kara barked at Adrian. “We’ve taken great risks and violated sacred rites to join with him.” She pointed an accusing finger at Norman. “Now we’re working with Skeete? That was never part of the arrangement.”

  The four men’s muscles began to tense.

  Norman took a step back. “Relax, friends. No need for hostility here.”

  “You may not have noticed,” said Claude. “But our pack is in shambles. We’ve had enough trouble holding our side together in the face of Eric’s challenge. If we’re working with Skeete, things become much, much harder. She is vampire enemy number one.”

  “Trust me on this,” said Norman.

  Another man spoke up. “I never trusted vampires. I…”

  “Quiet, Jamie!” said Adrian holding up his palm to the wolf.

  Jamie’s mouth pulled into a snarl.

  “I’m still the alpha here. Norman has been honest with us all along. I think we need to hear him out.”

  “He’s sweet talked us all along. You trust too much, Adrian,” said Jamie.

  “That’s alpha to you!” replied Adrian, his eyes cold.

  “For how long?” said Claude. “More of us go to Eric’s side every day. Some leave the fold altogether. “If this keeps up, you’ll have no pack at all, Alpha.”

  Now Adrian snarled. “Hold your tongue.”

  “I told you he wouldn’t listen,” said Jamie.

  “Wait,” said Kara.

  “She’s right,” said Norman.

  “We’ve waited enough. This alliance is over,” said Claude. “If you want to hold onto a shred of your leadership, you’ll come with us, too.”

  “No. Shut up. Listen,” said Kara. She twitched her head.

  The wolves fell silent. Norman pricked up his ears. He heard it. Shoes trudging through muck. Someone approached. More than one. They all turned toward the smashed wall of the chamber. The sounds grew louder. Then whispers. Then nothing.

  Norman spun and faced the wolves. “Expecting anyone else?”

  Claude shook his head. Before Norman could turn back to the opening in the wall, five figures exploded through. They flew at Norman and the wolves, mouths open, fangs displayed.

  One landed on Norman and grasped him around the neck, hissing. Norman tumbled back, the weight of the berserk enemy crushing him down to the stones. He felt fingers squeeze on his throat. The grip was weak.

  Norman grasped back at his attacker’s neck and wrenched him off to the side. His hands tore from Norman’s neck, leaving lines of blood.

  Two wolves had shifted and tore bloody gashes into their foes. Adrian and Kara remained in human form, wrestling hissing vampires.

  Norman got a full look at his own opponent. He was a young vampire, maybe fifteen in human years. No older than his Night School students. Not even a man.

  He charged with adolescent fury at Norman who easily deflected him. The boy bounced off Norman’s arm and tumbled back to the ground. This was a youth in human and vampire years. Was this all that was left of Skeete’s gang?

  The nymph rose up again, charging with futile speed.

  “Stop,” cried Norman. But the vampire sped on.

  Norman braced for another glancing blow, but the instant before it came, the boy flicked something out from his back pocket and slashed.

  Norman reached out to push the vampire aside, again, but when he did, the arc of the boy’s swing sliced through Norman’s gut. It tore through flesh and muscle with a thousand splinters. The young vampire held a small wooden knife before him. It was the weapon of a soldier, but this boy was no soldier.

  Norman gripped his stomach. Blood rushed out between his fingers. He groaned as streaks of pain shot through his body. He felt the weakness that wood always left.

  The vampire stood, defiant, with Norman’s blood dripping from his knife.

  The growling and scuffling in the chamber distracted the adolescent, momentarily. He looked past Norman to where his comrades fought with Adrian and the wolves.

  “You can’t win here. They’re werewolves. They’re designed to destroy you.” This vampire was just a kid. He deserved to be more than Skeete's fodder.

  “But you’re not.” He charged again, leading with his knife.

  As he rushed in, Norman grasped the knife wielding hand and drove his own elbow down onto the boy’s arm below the shoulder. The youth’s bone cracked and pierced through his flesh, sticking out, jagged and bloody. He cried in pain as the bone stabbed up out of his skin and shirt. His limp hand released the knife, and he dropped to the ground whimpering.

  Norman kicked the wooden weapon away. His own wound had begun to heal. He knelt to speak to his enemy. “You can’t win. Not this way.”

  “You broke my arm,” replied the teen.

  The sounds of fighting died behind Norman. The young vampires had been no match for the wolves. More needless death. How many lives would Skeete waste?

  “It will heal. What’s your name?”

  The boy looked past Norman to where his friends had been fighting. His eyes widened.

  Norman looked back as well. The bodies of his friends lay strewn about, disemboweled. Intestines and gristle tangled with their limbs. The wolves chewed on their torn muscular hearts.

  Norman turned back to the boy. His whole face shook.

  “I hate you,” he said spitting mucus and saliva.

  Then a furred figure swished past Norman’s head and landed on the young vampire. The wolf growled and bit into his throat. The new vampire reached a hand up to grip the wolf’s snout. When he did, the canine scraped at the vampire’s unprotected stomach with its hind legs. The claws tore through flesh and organs like razors. Muscle and other tissue flew in spatters.

  “Stop!” said Norman.

  The wolf looked back, hate in its eyes. It was doing what it was born to do.

  Norman approached and looked down into the youth’s face. Blood streamed from his mouth. His eyes squinted in agony. Words formed on his lips. “Skeete Daniels says, hello.”

  The wolf barked and dug its snout into the boy’s chest, tearing away rib and tendons and then heart. It tore the organ free of its veins and connective tissue and consumed it. It ate the muscle in seconds, howled, and transformed. Its skin bubbled beneath its fur and its features stretched and pulled. Some fur dropped out and some thinned to hair. Claude stood before Norman, naked, face covered in blood.

  This was a fearsome creature with a blood lust in his eyes. A frightening sight. Norman stepped back.

  “Do you see?” said Claude. “Skeete Daniels is deceit incarnate.
And now this teacher is in her pocket, too.”

  “I hate Skeete Daniels,” replied Norman. “I would kill her but she’s not a factor now. The whole world is allying against us.”

  “Not a factor?” said Jamie. He reached to the ground and retrieved the photograph holding it out toward Norman. He looked to Claude who nodded and turned to the back of the chamber.

  The rest of the wolves turned and retreated deeper into the tunnels. Adrian watched them go, the skin on his face stretched tight.

  “Norman,” said Adrian.

  “I understand,” said Norman.

  Adrian left, head drooping, through the back of the chamber.

  20

  Constituent Meeting

  Norman left the condo and gently shut the door, careful to avoid any noise that might disturb the nymphs. He’d gotten home after they had gone to sleep, and it was just as well he didn’t see them before school. He walked with light steps down the hall, but relaxed as he approached the elevator.

  He hustled down the street as quickly as he could without arousing suspicion with super-human speed. He’d need to get to the capital soon. By this time, most legislators had gone home, but Walsh would still be there, hopefully, and they had some business to discuss. Skeete Daniels’ entrance into the mix was an unacceptable variable.

  Norman arrived at the capital as the night swept away the last of the horizon’s light. Two Secret Service agents stood at the main doors. Capital security had been stepped up now that one of their own was running for president. Norman expected it would be doubly so inside since the incident at the press conference.

  “ID please,” said one of the beefy men.

  Norman produced his driver’s license. “I’m with Walsh.”

  He looked at the front and back of the license.

  “Part of his campaign.”

  The agent raised his wrist to his mouth. “It’s the teacher.” He paused a moment. “You’ll have to come back tomorrow. The senator is busy.”

  Norman narrowed his focus. The guards will floated before him, red and wild. “He’s not too busy for me,” he said, the guards fully in his grip.

  Their faces relaxed. “Of course not.” They unlatched and opened the doors, giving way.

  Norman paced through the too familiar halls of the capital. He detested school politics. He hated the real thing even more. After the election, it would surely get worse.

  Norman climbed the rotunda stairs and made his way down the branching hall toward Walsh's office. Two more large men stood outside his door. From a distance, he could tell these guards were different. When he reached them, he realized what it was. They were Corps V. Soldiers, probably enhanced.

  Norman recoiled, his muscles all tensing in unison. He wished he had a few vials of Georgios’s serum. He’d known some enhanced vampires had escaped at the White House that day and elsewhere around the world. Who knows where they would pop up? For now, the answer was right here. He cursed the NSA for confiscating all the serum.

  The two soldiers moved closer together, asserting their mass to block the door. One had short cropped blond hair and a mean snarl, the other a long-braided pony tail. He knew he couldn’t beat them with his fists and fangs. He couldn’t even beat one. He had a few tricks of his own, though. He narrowed his focus and saw their wills floating before him. He reached out to grip their slippery arcs of smooth light, the projections of their intentions. He found purchase on one. The other proved too evasive. Norman struggled to grip. Something was different. This should be easier.

  “You’ll let me in to see the senator, now,” said Norman. “I’m approved.”

  “Of course,” said the blond guard, moving aside.

  “What are you doing?” The braided soldier gripped his comrade’s arm.

  “He’s approved.”

  The vampire not under his control hissed at his companion. “You fool. He’s got you.”

  The super-V reached inside his jacket and produced a small slim wooden blade. He peered into Norman with malice. “We’re under orders to avoid messes except in emergencies. We might have one on our hands now.”

  Norman was tired, drained from seducing the door guards and the super-V soldier. It was so much harder to subdue a vampire. “No emergency.” Norman stepped backward down the hallway. “I’ll come back another time.”

  Halfway down the hall, Norman turned and strode quickly out the capital doors, and walked through the night back home. He didn’t get to see Walsh as planned, but he’d learned much. Skeete’s involvement with the senator was deeper than he’d imagined.

  She’d provided Walsh with super-V body guards. Norman could glamor his way past any human interference and enforce his will, at least temporarily. But with vampires, it was harder. And with enhanced Corps. V, he couldn’t count on his fighting skills to save him in a lurch. The FBI had seized all of Georgios’s serum to use for their own purposes. Norman wished he’d stashed some for emergencies.

  Norman would have to reassert his position with Walsh somehow. If he could get to see him, he could begin influencing him. Getting past Corps. V guards without instigating a bloodbath would prove a problem.

  Norman turned the corner to his condo building. Felicia paced back and forth in front of the door. She shook with frantic spasms.

  “Mr. Bernard,” she ran to him and grasped him in an embrace. He could feel her shaking. “Declan.”

  “What? What is it?” said Norman.

  “Declan’s missing. He didn’t come home.”

  Norman’s mind raced through the myriad distractions that might keep an adolescent out without warning.

  “And he’s scared, Mr. Bernard. I can feel him. Something’s happened. I’m going to look for him.”

  A lone, panicky nymph’s foray into a dangerous night. This was a decidedly bad idea.

  21

  First Flight

  “Absolutely not,” said Norman. It’s too dangerous. If Declan’s scared, that should tell you something.”

  “I have to,” said Felicia. “He’s in trouble. I’ll go without you.”

  Norman focused his feelings. When he concentrated enough, he could feel the rest of the nymphs. Not like he could feel Felicia. They were fainter because he was twice removed. But she was right. Something bad was going on with Declan. Norman's own heart sank. All he wanted was to protect his nymphs. Hide them away. Teach them, but there was no hiding. He had to see his plan through. It was the only real way to protect Declan and the others.

  “Go where?” said Norman. “You don’t even know where to start.”

  “Everywhere. I don’t care.”

  Norman didn’t doubt her. It was hard to resist the feelings of your own progeny. Feelings were hard to tame. It took many years. Part of him wanted to go with her. Right now. Find Declan and rush him to safety. He fought the urge. If he wavered from the plan now, all was lost. Felicia's own emotions tore at him. His guts felt like they were shredding.

  “It’s too dangerous out there. I can’t let you.” Perhaps Norman needed to tame some feelings of his own.

  Felicia stepped back. “You can’t stop me. I don’t need you.”

  Norman had a strong connection with Felicia. He felt her fear and grief. Her connection to Declan was stronger than his own. Her youth, both in human and vampire years, made her more a subject of her emotions than the reverse.

  “Felicia.” Norman stepped toward her. “Skeete’s back. It’s not safe for any of us.”

  Her eyes twitched back and forth. He could feel her connecting the information to her situation.

  “I have to find Declan. She might get him.” She stepped away again.

  “Declan is strong, Felicia.”

  Felicia looked back up. “But, he’s scared. Something’s wrong. This is so bad.”

  Norman wanted to help her. But things were moving fast now. The election was in a week and Norman had non-stop public appearances until then. He had to find a way to get to Walsh. There was no time to rush
off to scour the city for a wayward nymph.

  Norman searched his own emotions. He looked past his feelings for Felicia. He felt for clues to Declan's location. Any feeling. Any hint. But Felicia's feelings were so intense right now, it was hard to sense any of the nymphs. Within the spastic tangle of her emotions, he could feel fibers of the others. Declan’s was the clearest. But it faded and moved. Seeing past her was impossible right now.

  He wanted to join her and at least protect her. He also wanted to make sure Declan was safe. The boy had come so far. He was much smarter than anyone gave him credit for, even Felicia. Norman had sensed his growing separation from the others.

  The greater danger to Declan, to all of them, though, was the consequences of this election. Norman had no desire for them to be registered. That was a road that could lead only one place. It might not be immediate or even during Walsh's term, but registration was the beginning of the end of his dwindling race if he couldn’t get Walsh to water down the bill. Could he hope for a veto? Possible, but messy.

  Norman prayed that Declan had learned enough to take care of himself. He was so strong but was he ready? Would he ever be? Would any of them? This was a moment all vampire creators faced. Even though Declan was technically not his nymph, his relationship with the boy had gone deep, through his classroom and beyond.

  “We have to wait.”

  “Wait?! I can’t believe you.” Anger tinged her words. Norman saw it, but he felt it, too. It was real and it was large.

  “Felicia.”

  She opened her mouth in a snarl. Her fangs emerged with a hiss. Then, she was gone in a blur of speed.

  Norman felt her receding. He longed to chase. To embrace. To protect. Not today. He was a politician now. Politics.

  22

  Old Allies

  Later that night, Norman found himself at the entrance to an office building downtown. The whole section of the city was dark except for a few windows on the fourth floor of the sky rise in front of him. He pushed a button next to the door.