A gentleman in so many ways.
And it’s not for nothing that I stand and wait here. A passion project of any artist is the same. Be it for the eyes of one or to mass produce. You want it to be a masterpiece in your eyes and those who behold it. This is why I’m hesitant. I don’t rush these moments. Not that I didn’t try on the night he came to me first. He had bigger plans he needed to orchestrate.
Now? It’s been days, maybe even weeks. How would I subside the butterflies?
“Yes, coming.”
Why did I speak? I could have prolonged it for a few sweet seconds more.
When the door swings open, there stands Mason. His calm, patient stance, welcoming red eyes, and beautiful smile welcome me to the calmer side.
“Come in.” I gesture he enter and only then does he step inside.
“I know you’re nervous. I’ve told you before, there’s no need for that.” He walks into my house with his lazy step and begins his journey to my – for lack of a better term – studio.
“Yes, yes, I know. There’s no need to stress, but you’re either going to love these or hate these, and I’m not sure I’m ready for the latter.”
He laughs.
Deep, calm, chilling.
“Then shall we just get it over with?” We’re at the door. It’s closed. He doesn’t breach. If I change my mind, he will turn around and walk out without an issue. We’re too far for that now.
My hand is tense on the doorknob. I push it open.
There, on individual stands, rest two oversized pistols that have no necessary reason for being as big as they are. One is black, its imminent power unquestionable. The other, silver, radiating at a lower frequency to its partner.
“They’re beautiful,” he remarks.
“Thank you.” I step in. The first comment is enough to set my mind at ease. “Each one has been made up for certain actions. Uniquely customized, there is nothing that is the same as either. Not even they share the same traits as one another.”
He steps closer, admiring them more with every step.
“I won’t bore you with the details that went into constructing them, but much like my staff, they share the power of the Forsaken. Each one is a beautiful blend of various components that make them up to be the ultimate weapons to fight basically anything and everything.” I take the silver one in my hands. “Angelic or demonic, each is geared to fight toward a certain archetype as a robust stopper. This one, in particular, is set to stop the more divine.” I hand it to Mason. It fits his hand perfectly. “Whereas this one is more for those that burn in damnation.” I hand him the black. Again, it fits perfectly. Even better, I would say.
“They are unique in their own right. Each one has its own abilities, bullets catered to each so that there won’t be confusion as they are equally housed in a golden shell.”
Mason raises his hands, ignoring most of what I’m saying to him.
“Extensions of the arm,” I add.
“Indeed,” he replies. “Thank you, Ankh. I do believe these will be a great deal of fun.”
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Those three little ‘beeps’ are all I need to know that this was probably the extent of his free time. He pulls his phone from his pocket, checks what has been sent to him, and turns to me.
“I have many questions on these little toys.” There’s always a sense of great pride when he refers to my gadgets as toys. “They will have to wait. It seems I am needed elsewhere. I’ll be back soon.”
“Of course, man. Take it easy. I know you’ve got big things in the works.” We start heading out.
“You don’t know the half of it...”
Cryptic.
I can’t wait to see where we’re headed.
Chapter Sixteen: Madison
There’s no real pin-pointable place. Not for this. When I started looking at Jack in this new light. The way his hair hangs in his face or the way the right corner of his lip curls slightly more in that awkward smile, when he’s told a joke no one finds funny.
That’s not really who he is – a funny man – even though he will try his best to make himself seem the clown.
It’s been a few weeks now. I’ve spent a lot of time around him and he around me. There’s always some delusion of a warm comfort between us, even when I’ve just gotten off the battlefield, practicing warring magic.
I can’t even really tell if it’s true. The stolen looks I feel him taking. The way his mind wanders, picturing me, the same way I do him.
Or maybe, that’s just me in my naivety, trying to work around a peculiar feeling I don’t quite understand.
Mason, the vampire, my protector.
Jack? My savior.
“So, what’re your plans for tomorrow night?” Jack asks. In my state, I zoned out completely, considering my options.
“Nothing much. Vicky and I have to work, I guess. So, I can’t really say.”
“Well, if your commanding officer gave you time off, would you accept it? I mean, he might only be doing it for his own personal agenda, but yeah.” Those silly jokes.
“What do you wanna do, Jack?” I’m panting. Vicky and I, in fact, just came out of another rough session in terms of our workout. My magic is weak, very weak, but both her and Jack believe I have some potential somewhere in me.
“I was thinking we go out. You’ve been working hard, and I’ve been watching you work hard. I think we deserve a break.” That one, I laugh at.
“Isn’t it good to be the big boss?” I nudge him.
We’re walking down a corridor that leads to the women’s locker room. I’m going to change and get ready to head home. Jack, the effervescent gentleman, always by my side.
“So then, I’ll pick you up at eight?”
“Eight’s good. Seven works, too. I don’t think Vicky wants to spend her entire Saturday here. I’m sure she’s got stuff to do herself.”
We stop at the locker room door. I stand outside.
“Then seven it is. I’ll pick you up at your place.” Again, I chuckle. My place is the Agency for now. No home, no money. It’s the only place that seems to want me.
Well, that and I’ve been out of the game too long to know what’s going on and how to adapt to the true modern civilization.
“Seven it is,” I conclude, walking through the door.
Chapter Seventeen: Mason
“I don’t think he’s going to want to see you,” Hamish says as I push past him through the door.
“I know he doesn’t. That’s why I’m here.” My reply is offhanded and could be perceived as rude, but that’s truly not the intention behind it. “I am not here to continue a fight. I’m here to speak to Daffyd.”
“You’ve been gone ten years. Daffyd will have had your head if he could find you.” His frantic, fat features wobble with every step.
“Learn to relax, Hamish. You’re going to give yourself a heart attack.” Everyone here is surprised to see me. I can just tell. The myth I must have become. The Ancient that ran from the king. The stories and lies that he’s spread. The gossip must be so delicious. “And truly, do you think he would have been able to take my head if he tried? Now you’re making me say things I’d rather not. I don’t want to belittle your king. I just wish to speak with him. So, step aside. I know my way to the throne room.”
Hamish stops dead in his tracks. Had any rumors spread, he would have known the truth behind them. The truth that if he truly thinks I’m no challenge, he will face his greatest fears.
My beautiful, little cave.
He quickly returns to my side. I can tell there will be no more mention of me leaving or backing down. So, I let him walk with me. “I see you’ve been busy.” The sheer number of pointless vampires that no doubt act as guards among Daffyd’s ranks is stupendous.
“Yes. There’s been a new edict. Daffyd isn’t playing it brash anymore.” I cock a brow. Interesting. “He’s going into the game with a greater plan. A plan th
at benefits himself, but it benefits us equally.”
My interest fades. “That’s the same nonsense he was spouting ten years ago. The death of a girl, the eradication of the Forsaken, which would all just be to the benefit of vampire-kind? I don’t see it. We’ve coexisted longer than you can imagine. He is a child throwing tantrums.”
“And what’s wrong with that?” I hear the familiar voice from up ahead. My focus was taken off my path while I spoke to Hamish.
“Well, if it isn’t the vampire Mason. Here to rub my nose in it?” He walks up to me. I was expecting a different reaction to say the least.
“In what?”
“The fact that your Forsaken buddies got me to throw dignity out the window to focus the war effort away from them and more on the werewolves.”
I have no idea what he’s on about, nor do I want to know. The way he’s walking up to us is rather unsettling. Daffyd had always been the kind who hides behind his power and title, not radiating true strength. Not that it makes any difference to me. He’s still just a drop in the bucket. I just find it peculiar that after centuries, it only took ten years to become a man of his own.
“I should actually thank you, Mason. Since you left and I suffered a tremendous drop in power, I had to change my tune a bit. I had to make sure that I could actually do my own work. I’m sure you know how I feel about that.” Lazy. I want to speak, but I let him continue. “So, with your disappearance, I ended up growing my own power, but at the same time, I found my wealth soar. Without having to find supernatural items for you, I got to find them for myself. The nice thing about that? I didn’t have to throw money at anyone to get it. They listen to their king. Things have changed in my ranks, and you’ll soon come to find that, without you, they have only become better.”
There is a second pause before he speaks again.
“So, if you’re here, hat in hand, looking for a handout or work, we have none.”
I burst out into laughter. Glorious laughter.
“You had me fooled for a moment, Daffyd. You had me believing you were truly a changed man, but you always have to take it a step too far. Throwing your snide comments in, belittling whomever you speak with.”
His face twitches. He remains composed apart from this.
“Rome wasn’t built in a day. I’m just making my way toward a better self. You’re precisely the same as I remember you.”
“Nor do I intend to change.” The hallway in which we speak is growing ever smaller with the two of us stepping toward each other. The rest of the walk is in silence until we are upon one another.
“Why are you here?” he asks.
“I’m here making contact. It seems like a lifetime, wouldn’t you agree?” Hamish stopped walking with us a few meters behind. Daffyd, from behind, has his pointless armada watching us with hawk eyes.
“Well, we’re fine here, Mason. We don’t need you. You were a valuable asset when I had no faith in myself, but I am a man of my own now. I do believe that there’s nothing more you can do for me. You’ve built your bed with the Forsaken, and now you can sleep in it.”
We are both unmoving, apart from our lips.
“Then so be it, Daffyd. I knew this would go down a very similar path. You’ve done well for yourself, and I’m impressed, but...” I intentionally pause for a while to watch him squirm.
“But what?” he shouts.
“It’s going to be even more impressive to watch this empire crumble and burn.”
Chapter Eighteen: Brooke
“Mason!” Running after the towering giant, calling his name to catch his attention. Was that the right thing to do? Now, the ball is in motion, and there is no way of stopping it. He will know if I lie. He will sense it, but would he even care? My plans are too big for just myself. I need him. I need someone.
“Yes, Brooke?” He doesn’t turn to me. He keeps walking toward the barriers of the Veil. We both know that whatever is said behind the barrier, Daffyd will have his ears on.
“I need to speak with you.” We carry on walking.
“Okay. Not here,” is all he says, and together we keep walking.
“I know,” I respond. “Even coming out here was probably the wrong idea.”
“Yes. He knows we’re talking.” The calm nature with which he speaks, knowing that he is being watched, is intriguing. I’ve never known anyone to be so carefree. It’s respectable. It’s terrifying.
“He can’t hear us out here. He just knows we’ve spoken.”
“Don’t delude yourself with fantasy, Queen of the Damned. He’s watching. Listening. We cannot speak here.” I nod.
“Then where?”
“Seek me out at sunset tomorrow night. I am sure you are aware of Ankh’s home. I have no doubt that Daffyd has eyes on my prodigy. I would if I were him.”
I play coy. Again, I’m sure that he knows I’m hiding behind false truths. “I’m sure I can find it.”
“Then we will speak tomorrow. Come alone. I feel I know what you’d like to discuss. I am on board.”
Those three simple words put my mind at ease.
Having an Ancient on my side…well, that will just work wonders for everything I have planned.
Chapter Nineteen: Romulus
There is an odd sense of euphoria felt while resting in the midst of war. Resting? This is not the right word. We do not rest, us wolves. Be it for hunting in the surrounding woods that make up our borders. The intense thrill of knowing that at any moment we can be caught and killed. A coward’s victory. This is the only way to describe the past ten years. A life consumed by slow decay. Every passing minute a painful reminder of what we’ve lost and what will be lost. We are a warring nation, us wolves, and as my influence shifts and we become more powerful, we find that the grass is always greener on the other side.
“Tonight, we plan and rest, for tomorrow we return to war.” My opening words over my people.
I see him there in the background, watching over us. The new addition to my tribe. Not in the traditional sense, rather more surrounding the idea that he is here to further his agenda. A traveler. Something I’ve never heard of nor would ever choose to understand. A powerful being by any terms.
“We’ve lost a great deal, sir,” someone says. My thoughts are elsewhere, even preparing for war today.
“What do you mean?” I reply.
“Have you not heard?” the same voice replies, but among the warring party, I can’t make out who is speaking.
“If I had, would I not seem so surprised by what you are saying?” Whatever it is, it can’t be too bad. Had it been, I would have heard it through the grapevine long before we sat down to discuss our next moves.
“The Forsaken have withdrawn from battle. They have taken their victory and are leaving us to fend for ourselves.” The crowd is in a panicked state. This is news to us all, it seems.
“Fend for ourselves?” I raise my voice. “The Forsaken may have stood at our side before, but fighting alongside them is comparable to staring into the sun. A blinding light of glory. Still, you are blind when you turn away. We don’t need them for this war. We don’t need anyone for this war. We are not here to stand idly by, are we?” The crowd returns to a state of normality.
“We are the forefront of this war. They stood back and watched as we went like lambs to the slaughterhouse on multiple occasions. They may have only called for peace now, but they have not stood at our side for years now. They allow us to believe that they are here to keep us out of harm’s way, but in reality they use us as cannon fodder, playing their games as they have always done, making sure that their first need is met…” I let my words resonate with them a moment before I finish my sentence, “Entertainment.”
They speak among themselves, and I allow it.
“Tomorrow, we go to war as we have a thousand times in ten years. When have the Forsaken taken the time to stand at our side, let alone aid us in our war efforts? Just because we fought the same battles doesn’t mean we were al
lied. We had our own agendas. Victory is not for the faint of heart. The torment and loss forever sit with you. A feeling I know all too well. So, are we going to sit by and let the vampires think that their peace with the Forsaken affects us? No!” I shout. “We are going to walk out onto that battlefield tomorrow, and we are going to claim their land. Is his majesty in command? Not for long. We will leave his men hanging from pikes, watching as they writhe and burn in the sunlight. We will have our victory over the stronghold of Torrine tomorrow. We will watch the vampires crumble beneath our might. They are nothing. Remember that.”
The crowd has long begun cheering. A fearsome group of rebels and warriors. The most effective power I have seen in years. Upliftment.
“They…are…nothing!”
Chapter Twenty: Victor
“Nunkah, bah met tyr.” Watching the wolves communicate over their impending war has only strengthened my own desire for battle. Not in that sense. I’ve long forgotten those days go. The warring side to life has come and gone in my reality some two hundred years before. My battle is internal. External, too, it seems. The vampires have claimed what isn’t theirs, and I will take it back. It’s all about the tact behind my advances now. I have, after all, been known as a ‘devil’ for some time.
“Tor nan, bafetu wenna.” Robert is in the house. He never comes out when I sit around my fires. When I hold my commune with the dead. When I do my voodoo and witchcraft. He’s a brave man, but he is afraid. Afraid to dabble in the arts. Had he known what freedom was, maybe things would be different for him, but with an eternity of servitude, he would not know what to do with freedom. It would eat away at him. It would rot him from his core.
So, he patiently waits. Worrying. Never knowing the true extent of what he has. What I’ve given him.
Maybe someday, when I am gone, will he take to his own.
The Vampire Touch 2: Into the Uknown Page 5