Breach (The Blood Bargain)

by Reeves, Macaela

Dimitri.

  A sickly sweet taste crossing my tongue, my heart beat pounding in my ears with a curious echo. Somewhere across the blackened night my severed limb waited for reattachment. Soon I would be whole, for only with him did I have purpose. I could almost smell him, hear his deep velvet voice calling to me within my own thoughts. Crying out in-

  Agony. The pine scent of his skin dissipated, all I could smell was blood. A copper taste that would not leave my mouth. Perspiration coated my brow, dripping down the small of my back. Opening my eyes I wiped at my forehead, finding the liquid thicker, darker. Blood. Blood everywhere, my blood. Oh god...no. I couldn't waste it. He needs it. He needs me. I must go to him. Now I have to. Have to-

  No. Its not real. Rule your own mind. Whatever aspects of my consciousness that remained property of Evelyn Younger cut through my laments, severing the thrall state I had willingly driven myself deeper into. Dimitri-more accurately whatever bond he had created when he tricked me into drinking his blood-was an addiction, one I desperately wished to succumb to. Yet I could not. Not now nor ever. I would not be a hollowed soul.

  "Got it. Hold that." Rylie announced loudly, pulling me from my thoughts. He indeed did have it, triumphantly holding up the large pane by handled suction cups stuck to the glass. Cold gusts of howling wind invaded through the hole we had created.

  Ethan pulled the hook and cable out of the duffle. "Ready Candice?"

  The wicked smile on her face was better than any verbal response she could have given. I watched in awe as she took the hook from Ethan and jumped out the window.

  No, it wasn't a jump. It was as though she flew. Long blonde hair billowed behind her dark clothed form across the four lane road below as though it were nothing but a tiny puddle to hop over. For a fleeting moment I was stricken with envy. It seemed like only yesterday I was bed ridden and cane addled. An invalid incapable of caring for myself. To be able to soar like that was simple awe inspiring.

  "Will you look at that!" Ben exclaimed. "She did it."

  "Line's secure." Rylie announced, tugging on his end.

  "Who's first?" He tied the unsecured end of the line around the large U shaped desk in the room under the theory that it was too big to be pulled out of the window and appeared bolted to the floor anyway.

  "No volunteers?"

  "I'd go first but you'll have to untie me." China commented sourly.

  "You know what that is a damned good idea." Rylie drawled kneeling down in front of her. With his pocket knife he cut her plastic bindings, never breaking eye contact with our prisoner. "If you die, its no skin off my nose." The scav glared at him, rubbing at the red ligature marks that lingered on her tiny pale wrists.

  Ethan handed her the hook and harness combo, a big industrial clasp that fit around the wire that extended into the woven black material that clasped together to supposedly prevent the wearers demise. We'd had no problem picking up enough of the kits, the mountain climbing section of the sporting goods store had surprisingly been overlooked when the place had been pillaged.

  Anxious trepidations flowed through us as we observed her struggle with the harness through to the successful clip of the hook to the line. No remorse was generated from our lack of assistance, she was an outsider to us. Despite her agreement to be of aid in our endeavor, the scav may as well have been the embodiment of influenza. A foreign element in our fully functional cell. The scav did not hesitate in her plunge out of the fifth story window. It was not a sign of fearlessness despite all her previous posturing. As much as she tried to hide it there were glimmers of terror hidden under that steel gaze. No, hers was a challenge. Actions taken to spite death rather than avoid it.

  "Line's holding." Ethan commented casually, watching her streak across the night until we could not make out her form. "Holy shit, this plan is working."

  "Like you doubted me." Rylie laughed, then turned to Ben and me. "Lights out from here." Rylie ordered us to shut off all our flashlights and make sure our packs and weapons were secure. Ethan went next. Unlike China, Rylie made sure he was good and secure before sending him out the window. Rylie followed him, flashing me an unreadable smirk before jumping into the nights air.

  "You go Livvy."

  "Sure?"

  "Yep, I can bundle myself up." It was somewhat awkward to navigate the harness straps with my backpack and bow, but I managed to get a successful click out of each clip despite my shaking hands. Ben helped me with the industrial clasp and the zip line after my first two attempts to lock the clip on had failed.

  With a deep breath, I placed my feet on the edge of the window ceil. The black void below me made it impossible to tell how far of a drop it really was. Well, on the bright side if I fell from this side I'd probably die on impact before my corpse was devoured.

  "Go. I'll be right behind you." Ben tried to reassure me as he clipped his own harness on.

  "I'm not stalling." I countered, taking another deep breath. Pushing off I held onto the harness with both hands, the wind beating against my face with such force I had to close my eyes.

  "Gotcha." Rylie grabbed me by my waist. Before I could protest he lifted me up over the lip of the awning and set me down, that wide masculine smile of accomplishment on his face. It was over. I had made it.

  Allowing my messy windblown hair to hide my rosy cheeks I started uncoupling the hook from the line. "Thanks." I muttered at a level only audible to myself. Whatever thoughts I was entertaining about Mr. Everen were going to have to wait until we got back for reflection, after all-the line went slack.

  "Ben!" I cried.

  "Did he fall?" Ethan barked.

  "No! He's got a hold." I could barely make out his outline in the darkness. Heart pounding in my chest, the sounds of the man eaten alive on the wall an unending symphony between my ears. No. Not Ben. I didn't like the guy's choices but not this not-

  "Pull the line! Quickly!" Rylie shouted. As one Rylie, Ethan, China and I clasped our hands around the metal cord. The metallic surface ripping the leather of my fingerless gloves while I pulled as hard as I could. If I had to fathom a guess Ben weighed close to two hundred and fifty pounds.

  "Candice help!" I looked to her for assistance and found only fear.

  Eyes wide, her head shook violently as she stepped away from us. "I can't!"

  At that point it didn't matter, our combined strength had raised the line far enough that we could get a grip on Ben, pulling his large body over the lip of the roof and onto the tarred tiles. The scent of copper hit my nostrils, groping in the darkness for my flashlight to see if he was okay. Ethan beat me to it. When the beam hit his form I gasped. There was fresh blood all over his jeans, smears on his shirt. Laying on his back he rocked back and forth, bending his knees. I could tell he tried to suppress his pain, lips pursed to conceal the agony filled moan that bubbled up from his throat. Deep gouges ran through both of his palms and the back of his hands where he had wrapped his bare skin around the line. Ethan pulled back the wire from his skin, bits of white showing underneath where it had torn through to the bone. Shedding my leather jacket, I took of my tee-shirt and started ripping it into cloth strips.

  "Wrap up his hands. Please." Candice's fangs had extended over her bottom lip. "Oh my god...please...clean him up." Her hand quickly moved to cover her mouth, as she turned her back on us.

  "Working as fast as I can." Ethan hissed, binding his wounds as quickly as I could provide material. "Easy there big guy."

  "We can't take him inside." China leaned into Rylie, her words barely audible over the commotion. "Look at the vamp's reaction. Would be like cutting someone's femoral artery and throwing them in a shark tank."

  "Shut your mouth scav."

  In my peripheral vision I caught a blur of motion, her arms flying up in frustration. "Fine, get us all killed."

  "I think I got the bleeding slowed, but these wounds are deep. This gets infected, you're gonna lose your hands."

  "You have to stitch him up or loosing his hands is gon
na be the last worry he has." China looked irritated. Pushing me out of the way without touching me, she knelt beside Ben. Turning over his left hand, her brow dipped into a frown as she examining his wound. "Don't tell me there's no needle and thread in that bag of yours?"

  "There's some in the med kit, but I'm not a medic."

  "Get it out. Quickly."

  Ethan didn't move.

  China rolled her eyes then lifted her shirt, a nasty eight inch long scar ran along her stomach just above her right hipbone. "I've done this shit before on my damned self, so I think I can stitch up your boy."

  "Ain't no way you're touchin him with a needle." Ethan glared at her.

  "I'm not going to poke him in the eye with it."

  "Ethan give her the damned med kit for crying out loud." I snapped at him. Behind me I heard Rylie murmuring something to Candice, I looked over my shoulder to find her still facing the cement wall with her head bowed, arms wrapped around herself.

  "Here." Pulling the kit from his backpack he shoved it hard into her hands, then walked over to Rylie who's large dark form was now crouched in front of the window. Could only assume he was cutting the glass for our entrance. With morbid curiosity my gaze drifted back to China, who had pulled thread, a hooked needle and a small plastic packet from the white bag. The scent of sanitizer assaulted my nose when she ripped open an iodine packet, running the strong smelling sanitizer over his skin.

  "Give him something to bite on."

  "I'm fine...just...just do it." Ben spat out.

  "Suit yourself." She shoved the hooked needle into a flap of skin just beneath the knuckle of his index finger. His eyes went wide, but he didn't cry out. She worked fast, methodically loop stitching his torn flesh with nothing but moonlight to guide her hand. Ben's leg kicked, his teeth gnashing together as he turned toward me.

  "Liv, if I don't...will you..." His Adams apple bounced as he swallowed his pain. "Will you tell Sammie I..."

  "I'm not going to tell her anything...you're going to come home and tell her yourself." Running my hand over his forehead I tried to comfort him, the scav was relentless in her work. She didn't pause in her stitch, no matter how much pain it caused her patient. Still he impressed me, Ben did not scream or cry out, or perhaps that was just shock setting in. His wide eyes darted back and forth, focusing on nothing.

  "I'm sorry...tell her I'm..."

  "Shhh easy...you're going to be fine. Look, she's almost done with the right side."

  "Re-wrap this one." She ordered me, tying the thread off in a knot she bit through the string with her teeth.

  I complied, looking over my shoulder to check the progress of the rest of the team. Rylie was making good progress.

  "Damn it he's shaking, will you hold his wrist?"

  "Why is he shaking?"

  "Blood loss, cold, shock. Pick one."

  "You are such a bitch." I muttered.

  "Realist. The word you were looking for was realist." Suddenly Ben stopped thrashing. His eyes rolled back, lids closing.

  "Ben...hey...Ben." I shook him, but his eyes didn't open. "Benjamin!"

  "What did she do to him?" Ethan came back over, forty five pointed directly at China's head.

  "He's just unconscious, heart is still beating. Normal with trauma. Lets get him propped up against the wall where he's out of sight."

  "Not leaving him here."

  "You want to carry him then?"

  "The girl is right. He has to stay here." Candice looked a lot better, the color had returned to her face, fangs retracted. It was almost as if she had recently...fed. My eyes immediately found Rylie's form in the darkness, done with the glass he was pulling his right sleeve down. No...he hadn't...there was no way...A shiver ran down my spine, a gust of wind beating at my bare shoulders. I felt along the roof tiles where I had shed it, the black material visually undetectable in the endless night. My fingertips found the smooth leather behind me to the left. Fumbling with the arm holes I quickly pulled the thing back onto my shoulders, trying to figure out why I suddenly felt pissed off.

  "I'm leaving him a weapon then, case he comes to." Ethan folded a .45 under his large bloody palms before following the rest of the group inside.

  I lingered, taking one long look at Ben, praying it wouldn't be my last. A small white owl landed on the edge of the roof. Tilting its head from side to side while puffing its feathers. "You'll keep an eye on him for me won't you?" I asked the little bird. It just blinked at me then took to the skies. "Yeah...that's what I thought." Muttering, I stepped through the looking glass.

  Inside we were welcomed by the modern decadent furnishings of a plastic surgery clinic. Expensive uncomfortable looking chairs in little groupings of three, walls covered in smiling faces of the beautiful people. Someone had drawn a thick mustache on a blonde holding up a sign that read 'Rhinoplasty worked for me!' I had to smile at that.

  China was talking fast, pacing in circles around the room while Rylie concealed our harness kits under one of the espresso tinted wood coffee tables. "If we leave through the north door we'll end up in the general lobby, we'll need to transverse it and take a left at the first hallway directly across. That will take us to the skywalk to housing."

  Drawing the curtains to conceal the massive hole we had created, Rylie nodded at her recommendations. "Let’s move it people."

  Rylie checked his rifle, Ethan put a clip in his pistol. We were going in hot, into a city full of innocent people. I reluctantly drew my bow around from my back, following the team out of the office into a wide hallway that opened into the center lobby.

  My eyes went wide as we entered the wide open space. I had never seen anything like it. It seemed like every desk, office chair, computer, and phone from the complex had been dumped here. Desks stacked on top of other desks, broken pieces protruding at every angle. Mounds of medical files, x-rays and papers were lumped haphazardly. The stonework under our feet was simply implied, any factual evidence of its existence masked under fliers and forms. The stairway to the ground floor had been ripped out, the hole blocked by the hoarders pile of debris.

  Welcome to the Land of forsaken furniture, I thought to myself, raising my hand to my nose to suppress a sneeze. All the discards were covered in a thick coating of dust and spider webbing. Overhead lights weren't on in this part of the complex, but soft yellow emergency lights cast over the ceiling every twelve feet, probably designating the most direct path to the exits. Their warm glow was blocked by the office furniture exodus. Rylie made a military gesture for us to split up and go around the obstacles to our target. He took China in front, Ethan stayed with me. Slowly, we navigated the space in the direction we were heading. It was slow going, whomever had packed this room had done so with the assumption that walking room was not a necessity. Forcing us to alternated between crawling under desks and climbing over piles.

  My footing slipped. Falling forward I caught myself on my palms, knees grinding against the tile floor buried under the debris. I had mistrusted the sturdiness of a pile of manila folders, which were now scattered about beneath me. I sneered at the paper cut that had been inflicted along the outer edge of my left thumb, of all the pains I had suffered I still loathed the fine slice of reconstructed wood the most. So cruel they were to leave the ground haphazardly littered with medical charts, x-rays, patient forms and-

  Buried under the throngs of medical doctrine was an object unlike the others. A file with the eagle seal I had grown so accustomed to seeing on my father's desk. Pushing everything else out of the way I ran my finger over the seal on the outside of the manila folder. What are the odds, I mused. Flipping open the cover I did my best to make out the wording in the almost nonexistent lighting. Status reports on open cases, surveillance logs, expense reports...and a telegram. Raising the small half sheet of paper to my face I read it over.

  Attn: Agent Johnson

  RE: Project Moses

  Security measures have been deemed insufficient. Proceed to coordinates.

&
nbsp; 44.4494° N, 92.2669° W

  The paper had been torn beneath the coordinates, whatever secrets this message held were long gone. Still...there it was again....Project Moses...

  Stuffing the telegram in my jacket pocket I looked up. Absorbed in my discovery I had not noticed how far I had fallen behind. Looking around, I did not have a visual on any of my team members, just the twisted haunting shapes of forsaken office furniture. Shit. Keeping low on the floor I crawled forward, minding the placement of my feet and hands. Past a wide manager desk, I caught sight of Ethan making his way towards our destination. Adjusting my course to intercept, I stood behind a filing cabinet. Fully prepared to give him a ton of shit for not waiting for me as soon as he walked around the-

  There was a shout. Male. A loud metallic thud, a gun hitting the floor. In its wake a gurgled lament faded as quickly as it had begun. Oh god, it was just around the corner.

  Immediately falling to my knees I backed up until I was under the cherry desk tucked inside the hollow meant for a leather chair. I did not breathe, my heart pounding in my chest despite my commands to cease entirely. Consumed with a need to know I did something dangerous. Peering out the hole meant for Ethernet cables I saw Ethan standing not ten feet from the other side of the desk.

  A fist protruding from the center of his chest. Bone and skin bowed outward, red spot on his shirt widening by the second. Covering my mouth with shaking hands I forced my terror inward. Blood was starting to pool on his boots from the steady drip above.

  Whomever was standing behind him retracted their hand, his limp body falling to the ground with a sickening plop. Ethan's soulless eyes appeared to look directly at my location, long hair cascading over his jaw shielding my view from his final expression of surprise.

  His murderer wore tennis shoes. Standing with his profile to me in a dark colored warm up suit was a vampire. His facial features appeared British; cleft in his chin, nose upturned slightly, high pronounced cheekbones. A stoic yet smug expression on his face despite the horrible act he had just committed.