by Alex Dire
“Thank you for making time for us, General.”
The sarcasm did not escape the officer. “What do you want Bernard?”
“I want you to do your duty. That which you’ve pledged to do. Uphold the Constitution. Nothing more.”
“I thought I made my position clear.” He stood with a jolt. “I don’t work for you.”
“I beg to differ. The constitution makes it very clear.”
“You’re a vampire.”
“Yes. I was also born in this country. And I’m far, far older than thirty-five.”
“You’re not one of us.” For the first time, Sykes’ voice wavered. Despite his bravado, this man was afraid. He should not have let it show. He could use a few years in an inner-city classroom to strengthen his game face.
Norman relaxed his shoulders. “On no? Prick me, do I not bleed?” Shakespeare had something for every occasion.
The general flicked his head and his resolve snapped back into place. “You’re not human.”
“Do you want me to get rid…escort the president out?” said the woman behind the desk.
Norman took a deep breath. “I was hoping this wouldn’t be necessary.” He focused. The wills of the two officers dangled in front of him. It would be temporary, but he would only need their allegiance for a short time.
“General…” Norman sniffed at the air. That smell. Dog. A knock on the door. Norman snapped back to the moment, his concentration broken.
Sykes shouted past Norman. “What took you so long? Enter.”
Three werewolves in suits came into the office. They saw the vampires and arranged themselves side by side, blocking the exit. The one in the middle snarled his lip.
How the hell did he get wolf bodyguards? Norman hadn't counted on this. Sykes had countered Norman's best move. He pursed his lips in frustration.
“Please refrain from your mind games with me, sir,” said the general. “Now if you’ll please, we are extremely busy.”
“This is a waste of time,” said Rae.
“Wait,” said Norman.
The middle wolf let out a low rumbling growl.
“No games,” said Norman. “I have a plan, but I need you on my side.”
“Mr. Bernard, I thought I told you…”
“Mr. President,” said Norman.
The general narrowed his eyes. What a position he must be in. The constitution which granted his authority also demanded his loyalty to Norman. However, the general was in clear defiance. His heart rate increased. Norman could feel it.
“What if I ordered your soldiers to follow me out of this room right now?” Norman broke eye contact with Sykes, looking to the woman behind him. “Your duty would be to follow me.”
She looked past Norman to the security at the door.
He returned his gaze to Sykes. “I could relieve you of duty, sir, and take these soldiers with me.”
The general leaned back in his chair. “Is that right?” His gazed bored a hole in Norman’s face. “What do you say to that, Mathews?”
The woman responded. “I take orders from you, sir.”
The general cocked his head. “Douglas, Paniagua?”
“With you sir,” replied the two soldiers on the other side of the open door.
“Mr. President, I think you’ll find if push came to shove, I’d have the loyalty of every single soldier under my command. How dare you come into my office and make demands of me and threaten my position? All I have to do is give the order, and my people fall into line.”
Mathews placed a hand on her holstered side arm. Behind Norman, the sounds of metal on metal told him of soldiers making their weapons at the ready.
“Let’s go, Norman,” said Rae.
Norman kept his eyes locked with Sykes’. “Good.”
“Norman!” said Rae.
The general shifted in his seat.
“I think I have a bargain that you will find impossible to resist.”
“What could you possibly give me?”
“Exactly what you want.”
The general stood and walked around the desk. He stepped to within an inch of Norman’s face. “I. Want. You. Gone.”
Norman smiled. “Then I think we can work together. Please. If you’ll excuse these dogs. You won’t need them anymore.”
33
Felicia
Felicia unlocked the door to Norman’s condo. She looked back and nodded the rest in. They entered.
“It could take us forever to find it,” said Darius.
“No,” said Felicia. She walked to the coffee table in front of the sofa. Norman’s map lay unfolded upon it. Next to the table, Declan’s war hammer lay on the floor.
“Declan!” Felicia raised a hand, covering her mouth.
“How does Mr. Bernard have that?” said Cindy.
Felicia lowered her hand. Her lips pursed into a tight circle. “He’s hiding things from us. From me.” Felicia had felt this sting before. Her mother promised to protect her. She’d never let anything happen to her little girl. But she kept bringing them home. Those men. Why mama? Now Mr. Bernard knew something about Declan and he's hiding it. He's lying to me.
“I think we might be on our own from now on.” Felicia sat and looked at the map. “We have work to do.” Ink marks twisted over the surface of the thick leathery paper.
“What part of the city is this?” said Cindy.
“I don’t know.” She brushed her fingers along the paper, tracing various paths. “Mr. Bernard spends a lot of time with this map. It’s not what we think. When he uses his abilities, it changes.”
“Try it,” said Tyreese.
Felicia new she would have to. She wasn’t sure why she was reluctant. Maybe because everything seemed to frighten her so much. A whole new world to be afraid of. She wouldn’t be afraid. She closed her eyes and breathed deep. Then she opened her lids. The world dropped away. She felt the orbs of her friends floating around her. They were smooth and cool. She stared down at the map. The inky lines squiggled and moved, then set, showing a new set of pathways and tunnels. She moved her eyes along the edges, the map changed with her motions.
“How are you doing that?” said Cindy.
Felicia heard each word, but ignored them. She didn’t know how she did it. She wasn’t even sure why she was doing it. Just a feeling. She needed to find Declan, and this was a map. She knew it was special and she took a chance. Declan needed her. She saw his face in her mind. Images of it being gnawed on, bleeding. She couldn’t help it.
She breathed faster and faster. The imagery wouldn’t stop. Then the map changed again. It swirled through permutations, but then froze. The lines set themselves on the paper again as if permanent. Felicia let go of the force she’d summoned and stared at what now appeared to be just paper. In the lines, she saw what she needed.
“We have to go,” she said.
“Where?” said Cindy.
“I know where Declan is.”
The moon was a tiny sliver, leaving the woods almost black. Felicia could see the silhouettes of the brambles and twigs as she led her nymphs though the forest. Finally, they arrived. A thicket of twisted prickers and rotting leaves. It looked like all the other bunches of forest brush. She knew more, though.
“Why would Declan be here?” said Darius.
“No one would come lookin’ for him here,” said Tyreese.
“That’s for sure,” said Darius. “Smells like dog.”
Tyreese huffed a chuckle. He always seemed find a dark humor in everything.
Felicia began picking her way through the mass of brambles. She had seen the wolves speed through it as if nothing were there. It was more difficult for her. It was dark and things had overgrown since her last visit here. Apparently, the dogs hadn’t been keeping it up. Had Declan discovered this place abandoned? Was he still alive or…? No she felt him still. He was scared. And angry. I’m coming.
On the other side of the thicket, the many scratches to her face and hands qu
ickly sealed themselves up.
“Sheesh,” said Darius. “They need to put a door on this place.”
Felicia took cautious steps along the rocky floor of the cave. She remembered her previous journey through the tunnel. Juda and his brothers had accompanied them. Mr. Bernard had wanted to plead for help. It hadn’t gone well. The wolves had set on each other. A coup. A revolution. It still went on and cost her and her friends their canine allies.
She couldn’t tell if the heavy dog smell meant they were still here or if it lingered from who-knows-how-long-ago. Anyhow, this was the place the map had shown her. She saw that moment in her head again. She felt Declan as the lines on the map showed her the way.
The memory vanished abruptly. She stopped, confronted by a door. She stared down at the silver handle.
“Who wants to open it?” said Darius.
“Maybe I can hack it off,” said Cindy, withdrawing her sword from the sheath on her back.
“No, this silver would crack the wood in your sword” said Felicia.
“Only thing that’s good for is vampires,” said Darius
“Hope we find some,” said Tyreese.
“I can handle this.” Felicia placed the duffel on the ground and unzipped it. She withdrew Declan’s war hammer. It was heavy. But she was strong. She looked to the others. “Ready?”
Darius gripped the rifle he had slung over his shoulder. Tyreese tipped the point of his javelin toward the door. Cindy gripped her sword with two hands.
“You know,” said Tyreese. “If it’s wolves on the other side of that door…”
They all looked to Felicia for a response. They always did that. She glanced to the floor. She didn’t want the responsibility. But they were her nymphs. Her burden. Her family.
She looked back up.
“How do we fight them?” asked Cindy.
“We run.”
She heaved the giant hammer above her head and brought it down with all her might against the handle of the door. The door shook. She swung again. A crack split the wood by the latch. The third stroke punched through. She breathed heavy. The ruined hardware dangled from the hole in the door. She reached into the hole and pushed the door open.
Inside was the werewolves circle. And in the center chair, where the alpha had once sat, was Skeete Daniels.
Felicia hissed. Her fangs flicked out and saliva spattered from her mouth. She leapt across the room, clearing the pews, descending on her enemy.
Skeete smacked her away with one arm and grasped her wrist with another. She flew off to the side but Skeete tugged her back. Her momentum twisted her wrist. A crack. Shooting pain.
The nymphs charged in after. Tyreese and Darius flanked to each side. Cindy went right up the middle. Cindy reached the semicircular table and swept back her sword, ready to strike.
“Easy does it, kids.” Skeete twisted Felicia’s hand.
Felicia screamed. Cindy halted her strike and looked to Felicia. Always looking. Seeking guidance, approval. She didn’t know shit. “Gut her,” said Felicia through clenched teeth.
Cindy flicked her eyes back to Skeete. But Skeete was much older and despite the weakening effect of her modifications, much more powerful than any of the nymphs. In a blink, she’d slipped a stake out of her waist and driven it through Felicia’s arm, pinning it down to the table. Skeete then blurred away.
Felicia screamed. Splinters and shards of wood tore at her muscle. The pain shot through her like poison. She twisted to free herself but each tug was agony. She writhed and screamed.
Skeete blurred past Darius, knocking his rifle to the ground. Felicia stopped struggling. The scene came into focus over the pain. Skeete flowed around the perimeter of the room, almost too fast to trace.
The white-haired wraith angled toward Tyreese. She was too fast. He’d never be able to draw his spear back for a thrust. “No!” she shouted.
Tyreese was smart, though, he didn’t need to make a complete thrust. He tweaked the angle of his javelin. Now Skeete rushed at its tip. She twisted her chest to avoid the point, but it caught her shoulder. The javelin slid threw her body like water. That wolf tooth cut through vampire flesh as if it weren’t there.
Skeete careened to the side, her momentum ripping the spear from Tyreese’s hand. He lurched to the side. Skeete tumbled past him and across the floor. The long sharp wood tore a greater hole as it jostled with her. She slid to a stop in a streak of blood.
For an instant, the chamber fell silent. Felicia moaned as she twisted the stake from her arm.
Then the echoes of barks and growls filled the semi-spherical room. Felicia looked up from her gushing wound. Wolves padded into the room from a stone archway. Two snarling beasts thrust their snouts at each vampire. Felicia pushed back with her feet until her back pressed against the wall.
Another wolf entered the room in human form. She recognized him from the last time she’d been to this place. Eric.
He walked with a casual gate to Cindy. He cocked his head and reached down to her face, stroking her hair. “So young. You can’t be more than a few years old.”
She snapped her mouth open and her canines shot down. She hissed as her nose bunched and saliva dripped from the points of her teeth.
Erik chuckled at the display. “Watch where you stick those.” He removed her hand from the hilt of the sword and grasped the hilt. He rose again, lifting Cindy’s weapon above his head. He whirled it in the air around his head, displaying fencing moves and briefly pointing the tip to each vampire. It finally settled on Felicia. He approached her, point first. He placed the tip in the center of her chest. She felt an ancient hatred well up insider her. Her fangs shot out.
Eric tipped his head back. “Shall I take care of her?”
Skeete approached from behind and looked over Eric’s shoulder. Her smile sent spikes of ice through every pour in Felicia’s body.
Skeete grasped Eric’s hand. She stared into Felicia’s eyes wrapping her heart in cold.
“No. Wait.” Skeete kneeled and brought her face to Felicia’s. “How did you find us here?”
Felicia spat.
Skeete didn’t flinch. She slowly stood and wiped the saliva and phlegm from her cheek. “I’d really like to know.” Skeete grasped the sword from Eric and pointed it at Felicia.
Hatred melted the ice in Felicia’s heart. Maybe she would die here, but she’d take that bitch with her.
Skeete cocked her head. “Hmmmm…” She handed the sword back to Eric. “See what you can do.”
Erik took the handle. “I hate to mess up such a pretty one.”
“She’ll heal,” said Skeete.
“True.”
Felicia’s bravado fled. She pushed back harder with her feet, but the rock behind her did not relent. Eric plunged the tip of the sword into Felicia’s healing arm wound. Pain wracked her body. She twitched and recoiled.
“How did you find us?” said Eric.
Felicia grimaced and breathed spittle down her chin. Her vision blurred as she grasped the wounded wrist.
Eric raised the blade to her throat. The point drew a drop of blood. Even this tiny scratch felt mortal. Wood. She hated wood.
“Wait,” said Skeete. “I know a better way.” She left the chamber though the stone archway. A silent moment passed. It stretched on. Felicia heard Skeete’s voice.
“This way. I have someone you should see.”
Skeete re-entered the room, leading Declan by the hand.
For an instant, Felicia’s pain evaporated and a smiled crept up the corners of her face. Then it passed. This was much worse than a blade of wood across the throat.
“I believe you’re acquainted with my new best friend,” said Skeete.
Declan saw Felicia on the floor and drew his hands back into fists. “Felicia!”
Three wolves phased to human form. Two grasped his arms one wrapped an elbow around his neck.
“Eric, lend me that sword for a minute,” said Skeete.
Felic
ia’s hate drained away. She couldn’t fight. She couldn’t resist. Skeete had her by the heart.
34
Jitters
Norman sat with Rae in a plush room. He swiped a finger across his forehead. Sweat.
“You’re nervous,” said Rae.
“Of course.”
“I would be too. You’re the only thing that stands in the way of that bill. This is the right thing.”
“I wish I could’ve gone over that speech one more time.”
“Always the English teacher.”
Norman thought on that a moment. He saw his old classroom and his students, an amalgam of colorful faces, always reluctant to hear anything he had to say. He hooked them with his power, but it was Shakespeare that finished the job. His racing heart slowed. The corners of his mouth turned up.
“Hmm. That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile since you hired me.”
“I was thinking about my class.” Then his lips reversed as dread filled his heart. “My nymphs.”
“Not now,” said Rae. “Focus. This is the most important thing you’ll do in your life. You need to stick this.”
Norman shook his shoulders and banished his memories from his mind.
A knock rang out from the door. A voice came from the other side. “Two minutes, sir.”
“Thank you.” A shudder pulsed through Norman’s body.
“You can change the tone today,” said Rae. “You may not have many allies in these halls, but you’ve got your bully pulpit. You’ll strengthen the sympathizers. Powerful people all want something from you. You can use that.”
Norman closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He envisioned the press that waited in a throng in the briefing room. If he could handle thirty-four night school students, he could definitely handle them. He was determined, though, not to use his special abilities. This had to seem organic. He had to evince nothing but sympathy and strength. A tough needle to thread.
Another knock.
“Okay! I get it. I’ll be ready,” said Norman.
The door swung open. Skeete strode in dressed in full political battle gear: grey power suit, tight white bun on top of her head, glasses.