“I’m sorry, Mr. Austin.”
“I told you to call me Samuel.” Mr. Austin stopped, hooked his cane over his forearm, and pulled out a pipe and a pouch of tobacco from his overcoat.
“Sean,” he said, returning the pouch to his pocket and pulling out a small box of matches, “I’m sure you understand why I’m concerned about Veronica.”
Sean suppressed the impulse to heave a deep sigh. “Yes, sir, I’m well aware.”
Mr. Austin struck a match and lit his pipe. “Are you also aware of her intentions?”
Sean nodded.
“I know she updates you on her progress.”
“Mr. Austin—er, Samuel—I’m just as concerned as you are about her being in Minneapolis.”
Mr. Austin held his pipe steady between his teeth and snatched the umbrella from Sean’s hand. “No, you’re not.” Smoke billowed from the side of his mouth.
The rain dissipated, turning into a light drizzle. Droplets still covered the leaves and grass, causing their color to appear brighter than they were. Mr. Austin’s presence provoked Sean, and he knew Sean had to choose his words carefully. Being in the presence of the President of the Midwest Division and the overseer of all the local Chapters in that region was intimidating. He had to think before he spoke.
Mr. Austin sucked hard on his pipe, expelling smoke while he spoke. “I heard she went to Dark Sepulcher.”
“Yes, sir. I begged her not to go, but she went anyway.”
“It’s obvious she isn’t listening to you.” He fixed Sean in his gray-eyed stare.
“But, you see—”
“You’re a valuable asset to this organization, son. More than that, Veronica likes you.” He turned his pipe upside down and smacked its stem against the side of his hand, knocking ash onto the ground. “I spoke to Mr. Luzier and we both agreed that you’re perfect for the task.”
“Yes, sir, I know, but—” Sean paused. “Task? What task?”
“Mr. Luzier has agreed to promote you to field researcher,” Mr. Austin replied. “And you’re to go to Minneapolis and bring my daughter back unharmed.”
“Sir?”
“My daughter trusts you.”
Sean shook his head. He didn’t want any of it. A field researcher? Just the thought created a mild pain in his chest. “Sir, she’s only called me once. I mean, I’m grateful you decided to choose me, but I’m not right for this.”
“You can make her listen.” Mr. Austin’s voice grew louder. “Kenneth informed me and Mr. Luzier that you acquired documents for Veronica. You violated your oath by acquiring these documents and giving them to someone who isn’t a member of The Brotherhood.”
“Sir, I—”
“What you did by helping my daughter is punishable, Sean.” Mr. Austin puffed on his pipe. “Do you understand?”
Sean quickly zipped his mouth shut and he nodded.
“But I persuaded Mr. Luzier to hand you over to me in exchange for dropping the charges against you and bringing shame to your family.”
“Yes, sir.” Sean stared at the ground but forced himself to nod.
Mr. Austin again reached into his pocket, this time pulling out a folded manila envelope. “You will leave tomorrow.” He placed the envelope in Sean’s hand. “And you won’t tell anyone where you’re going.”
Sean stared at the envelope. “Sir, I appreciate what you’ve done for me but I have no experience as a field researcher.”
Mr. Austin held up his hand. “Your parents were loyal members of The Brotherhood, Sean. Being charged with treason will bring shame on your family name.” He grabbed the umbrella from Sean and he walked forward. “After you arrive, you will report to Kenneth via email. He’s now the new Region Leader of Minnesota.”
Sean looked over his shoulder at Kenneth who stood against Mr. Luzier’s limousine. Kenneth waved at him and a feeling of anger ripped through Sean’s mind. That bastard.
“You won’t inform my daughter that you’re coming,” Mr. Austin continued. “You will keep in contact with Kenneth Dearhorn via email and phone. You will sway my daughter away from Dark Sepulcher. Any information from here on out will be about the sanctuary fires and that alone. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir,” Sean replied in a defeated voice. “I do.”
Mr. Austin nodded. “Don’t mess up this opportunity, Sean.”
Tentatively, Sean unfolded the envelope and peeked inside and found a short stack of bills and a small piece of paper topped by a single plane ticket to Minneapolis.
CHAPTER SIX
A line filled with provocatively dressed young men and women wrapped around the block which led to the front doors of Dark Sepulcher. Veronica froze, shocked to see how the line had grown since her last visit. Perhaps they’d scheduled a special performance for tonight? Had the club’s popularity blossomed so quickly? She took her place in line behind a tall man wearing a ruffled white shirt, black pants, and long artificial nails. Amused, she watched him press his fingers against his fake vampire-style teeth, trying to make them adhere to his natural overbite.
She surveyed the crowd, finding it difficult to separate Deamhan and vampires from humans. Deamhan meticulously disguised themselves with make-up and clothing. And with so many wanna-be humans dressed like vampires, she couldn’t tell one from the other.
The line inched forward. Veronica eavesdropped on several conversations until her gaze met the eyes of two women in line behind her. Except for their height, they looked identical—long brown hair and deep brown eyes. The shorter of the two wore a white mesh shirt revealing a black bra and a white miniskirt. The other wore purple leather pants and a pink tank top.
Twins, Veronica thought. Great.
“Aren’t you cold?” the taller twin asked Veronica.
Surprised, Veronica pointed at herself. “Me?” She knew she wasn’t dressed for Minnesota weather, but neither were they. She no longer owned gloves or a scarf. She sacrificed warmer clothes for club apparel. She shivered then nodded.
“I’ve never seen you here before.” The taller twin’s eyes roved Veronica’s body.
Not again. Veronica wanted to stop the conversation before it started. She turned her back on the twins and stared straight ahead.
“Don’t scare her, sister, especially on her first night here.”
Veronica cringed as they conversed behind her.
The line crept forward and when she reached the front door, the bouncer waved her through without checking her ID. Veronica walked through the curtains and into the stodgy air and interior of Dark Sepulcher. She pushed her way through crowds of contorting dancing bodies, trying to create distance between herself and the Deamhan twins. Music thumped throughout her body.
“You’re back,” a familiar voice said from behind Veronica.
She turned to find the waitress who’d served her the night before.
“You ran out in a hurry the other night,” the waitress stated as she placed a napkin on a nearby table.
“Oh yeah, I-I lost track of time. Sorry about that.” Veronica had no idea why she apologized. She looked over her shoulder. Realizing the twins weren’t following her, she caught her breath and relaxed.
“Wow, you look like you just saw a ghost,” the waitress said.
“I’m fine.” Veronica slicked back her hair.
“Can I get you anything?”
“No, nothing right now. Thanks.”
“You look like you need a drink.” The waitress ignored Veronica’s answer. “I’ll tell you what. We have a new drink. It’s on the house.” The waitress playfully slapped Veronica on her wrist. “It’s called Sensual Appetite, and it’s delish!” She patted a chair next to the table. “Sit and relax.” She leaned toward Veronica and whispered, “My name is Chelsea. If you need anything else, just holler.”
Before Veronica could refuse, the waitress pushed through the crowd and disappeared. A fresh burst of fog spewed from a machine above, engulfing the dance floor. The gyrating crowd cheered i
n approval.
Veronica’s eyes moved to the back at a small room nestled in the corner directly above the dance floor. A rowdy cheer to her left caught her attention. A group of scantily dressed men and women hovered around a circular table. The light flickered above them. Veronica recognized Alexis; her arms draped around the neck of a man sporting a business suit and red tie. He sipped from a chalice and pointed to the crowd on the dance floor.
Chelsea returned and placed a clear plastic cup on the table in front of Veronica. The dark red drink had no ice, but a hint of blue had settled at the bottom of the cup. “Here you go,” she said, tucking the tray underneath her arm.
“I’m not thirsty.” Veronica pushed the cup away.
Immediately Chelsea latched onto her wrist and pulled Veronica’s hand toward the cup. “Nonsense.” Chelsea’s eyes narrowed in on Veronica. Her eyes turned black and her mouth opened slightly, revealing her fangs. “Now drink up, researcher. Don’t let a good drink go to waste.”
Veronica looked to her left then to her right. The club music seemed low-set as all eyes in the vicinity were on her, including Alexis’. Chelsea released her grip and waited for Veronica to drink.
Veronica grasped the cup, lifting it to her lips. She closed her eyes, paused, and then tipped the cup. When the liquid touched her lips, she opened her eyes. The Deamhan now encircled her, standing close enough that Veronica felt Chelsea’s breasts pushed against her forearm.
“Drink,” Chelsea whispered, “or I’ll drink you.”
Veronica took a long, deep swallow; thick liquid slid down her throat. The wretched taste of iron and blood made her choke, and she dropped the cup onto the floor, gagging. The Deamhan laughed.
Veronica shoved a napkin to her mouth as the liquid circled in her stomach. Her eyes filled with tears and her mouth frothed. She rushed to the bathroom, elbowing her way through the crowd. Her stomach gurgled and heaved. A sudden gust of air pushed her forward, and cold hands grasped her arms and yanked her into the bathroom.
“Please struggle.” The voice of the taller twin tickled Veronica’s ear.
“Yes, please.” The voice of the shorter twin tickled Veronica’s other ear.
With the bathroom door slammed shut behind them, the twins pushed Veronica to the cold, dirty floor. She winced as her ribs smacked the tile; pain shot through her stomach and into her back. She stole a glance under the stalls before she raised her head. They were alone. Bare fluorescent bulbs flickered overhead, giving the room an ominous glow.
The taller twin gripped Veronica’s arms in her powerful grasp. She easily lifted Veronica to her feet and violently slammed her against the bathroom wall. Breathless, Veronica made a dash for the door, but was shoved back. The taller twin wrapped her fingers around Veronica’s neck. Veronica clawed, trying to break free, but the Deamhan was too strong.
Veronica stared into the twin’s dark, menacing eyes. Her vision twisted in and out. The bathroom floor rippled as if water suddenly covered the floor. Veronica’s head swooned and fear dissipated. The drink flowed through her veins, intoxicating her.
It was a high she hadn’t felt since she smoked weed for the first time in her teenage years. A sense of invincibility and relaxation overtook her. She tried envisioning a brick wall in preparation for the Deamhan twins to invade her thoughts, but the tingling sensation never came. Instead she drifted into the furthest part of her mind where she kept sacred memories of her mother carefully hidden from human and Deamhan alike.
“I told you, sister.” The tall twin licked her lips. “She’s ripe.” The Deamhan twins knowingly locked eyes and giggled.
With a handful of Veronica’s hair in her grasp, the taller twin pulled, yanking Veronica’s head violently to the side. She opened her mouth and her canines protruded from her pale gums. “Her scent is strong, Brandy. And her skin,” she said, sniffing Veronica’s neck, “is so soft.” She stuck out her tongue and licked Veronica’s neck from her ear to her collarbone.
Veronica shivered from the trail of wet spittle left on her skin.
“What to do with her.” The tall twin increased her grip around Veronica’s throat. “She doesn’t have the markings of a minion.”
Brandy stepped away from the door. “But, Branda, I heard she is protected.” Her mouth opened, exposing sharper and longer fangs than her sister’s.
“What Deamhan would be stupid enough to give a researcher protection?” Branda scoffed. “Especially one as stupid as her.”
Protected? Veronica struggled to keep her eyes opened. Darkness toyed at her periphery, and she thought she might faint from lack of oxygen.
“I want her first, sister.” Brandy’s eyes widened. “Oh, can I? Can I please have first bite?”
“Sure.” Branda slowly released her grip.
Veronica gasped, her lungs searing as they engulfed fresh air.
“But don’t get greedy.”
Brandy replaced her sister’s stance and shoved Veronica back against the wall. She sniffed the side of Veronica’s face and chortled as Veronica struggled against her. “I like it when they fight.” Brandy closed her eyes and swayed her head back and forth as she spoke in a singsong voice. “Like a fly, caught in a spider web, about to meet its maker.”
“Protected.” Branda huffed, her nostrils flaring. “What a crock of shit.”
A strong wind manifested, and Brandy instantly released her grip. Her head jerked to the bathroom door as it flew open on its own.
Veronica’s legs crumbled. She fell to the floor gasping for air. She looked up in time to see a fuzzy image of the Deamhan twins running out of the bathroom with Deamhan speed and the door slamming shut behind them.
Whatever scared them away had impeccable timing.
Veronica leaned against the wall, coughing up phlegm. She rubbed her tender neck and lifted herself to her feet. Veronica shuffled over to the sink and turned on the water. The euphoric feeling from the drink had subsided. Her hands now trembled. She splashed warm water on her face. Her breathing relaxed. She examined the red and purple bruises on her neck in the mirror.
“Shit,” she said, her voice hoarse. “But I’ll be damned if I’ll let these freaks run me out of Dark Sepulcher again.”
She touched the wall to steady herself. The Sensual Appetite ravaged her body. The drink’s stimulating effects returned with a punch. Veronica hurried out of the bathroom and to the main room.
The club walls swirled around her. White and gold streaks trailed behind the patrons dancing on the dance floor. Afraid to walk any farther, she rested against a pillar and dropped her head into her hands.
Who would protect me?
She knew what it meant. If a human or even a Deamhan was said to be protected it meant that someone claimed them as their own. They were off limits, untouchable. To achieve this status, the one being protected was usually a minion or claimed their loyalty to a very strong and old Deamhan. But she wasn’t anyone’s to claim and she wasn’t any Deamhan’s minion. Her curiosity grew. Who protected her and what was she being protected from?
Veronica lifted her head from her sweaty palms. Flashing strobe lights semi-blinded her; however, she found her vision acquired more depth. She could see into the darkness and make out shapes, people, Deamhan and vampires she hadn’t noticed before. Noise from the crowd grew quieter, more distant. The drink was altering her senses!
Just as the thought occurred, her vision became crystal clear. Immaculate. She now could single the Deamhan out in the crowd. They looked taller, darker. Their fluid movements, their hardened skin. When provoked by one of their own or a vampire, the Ramanga threatened with their fangs. White light pulsated from the Lamia’s mouth and the Lugat’s hands, and there was a weird glow around the body of the Metusba. They fed indiscriminately in the crowds with Deamhan speed, only taking enough from their human victims to not notice. Blood dripped from Ramanga lips. Lamia embraced their victims in intimate kisses as they sucked the life from their mouths. Veronica watched in horro
r as a white streak of light flowed from the mouth of a pretty young blonde into the mouth of a muscled Lamia. Victims dropped to the floor, their energies weakened by the Metusba. Desperate Lugat on the dance floor swiped their hands on railings, disposed cups and napkins—anything to get a psychic taste of their victims.
And that was the Deamhan. Vampires were just as repulsive.
“Now you see what we see.” A voice caressed Veronica’s ear.
Veronica quickly turned, standing face to face with a jubilant Alexis, dressed in a short and shiny black pleather dress. She sported a pink wig, the hair cut into a short bob.
Alexis snaked her cold hand up Veronica’s arm and moved in closer, standing inches from Veronica’s neck. “It’s a funny drink, isn’t it?” She dropped her hands to Veronica’s hips and sensuously slid them up her stomach, over her breasts, and to her neck.
Electric vibrations ran through Veronica’s body and she found herself unable to move, unable to struggle.
“What did she give me?” Veronica’s breathing raced. “Vampire blood? I’m dying?”
Alexis threw her head back in laughter. “You researchers aren’t the sharpest tools in the box.” Her body swayed with the pulsating beat of the music, and her hands caressed Veronica’s face. “To be made a vampire, researcher, you’d have to be drained of your blood and have it replaced by vampire blood. It’s a simple process which takes only a night.” She curled her fingers into Veronica’s hair, tilting her head to the side. “To be made Deamhan, your physic energy needs to be drained and replaced by the energy of a Deamhan. A somewhat complicated process that takes several days.”
“Then what did she give me?”
“It’s not for you, you know,” Alexis answered. “But it’s so entertaining watching a human on it.” Her mouth engulfed Veronica’s in a passionate kiss.
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