Deadly Assessments

by Drew Hayes

  I resisted the urge to gulp this time, as my focus was already back on the booth and the lone employee I’d left behind to handle it. “Perhaps I should get back to Lillian, just in case.”

  “Good idea,” Amy agreed. “And be careful, Fred. So far, these have been inconveniences, minor challenges. If whoever’s doing this decides to escalate, things could get bad, fast.”

  That was all the motivation I needed to move. The moment I saw Amy exit through the door, I made for the trade floor at a near sprint. Whatever was going on, I’d be damned if I left Lillian on her own to face it—especially when I still hadn’t been able to warn her about the Blood Council and our potential danger.

  7.

  By the time I made it back, the crowd was dispersing. Whether it was Amy leaving their line of sight or general vicinity was up for debate; all that mattered were the confused looks on their faces as they wandered away. None of them seemed quite sure why they’d been so hell-bent on storming an accounting firm’s booth. Funnily enough, now that things were under control, security had shown up, moving people along to clear the aisles.

  The booth was far from organized or pristine. Pamphlets and business cards were strewn across the floor, and everything but the table was knocked over. Amid the chaos, Lillian was trying her best to tidy things up, the few remaining vendors and stragglers giving her ample space to work in. I took a moment to scan the area, checking for Deborah. Sure enough, she was a few booths over, looking at the display for an insulation company.

  As if she sensed my attention, Deborah looked up from the box of pink fluff and gave me a cheerful wave. She didn’t act the part of a dangerous enemy—but then again, I didn’t really act the part of a vampire, so I should know better than to judge on appearances. Whoever she was, whatever she represented, it was time to stop skewing my priorities and get some answers.

  “You don’t need to bother with that, Lillian.” I took a stack of pamphlets from her hand and dropped them unceremoniously on the table, which gave an unexpected groan. Maybe it had taken damage in the chaos. “Let’s go somewhere private and talk. Things have been happening today, and I think you’re the most qualified person to shed some light on them.”

  “Um, who’s going to man the booth if we go for a stroll?” Lillian pointed out.

  “No one. But on the upside, it’s not like we have to worry about anyone trashing the place.” I gestured to the scene around us, drawing an unexpected laugh out of Lillian.

  She followed as I led us back off the trade show floor and into the stairwell I’d used to make my calls earlier. As we left, I unintentionally locked eyes with Deborah, who gave me a warm smile. Try as I might, I couldn’t actually perceive anything unsettling about her, which made her all the more dangerous. At least with people like Quinn and Petre, I knew what I was dealing with. Deborah wasn’t so easy to read.

  Getting to the stairwell wasn’t hard, although we did run into some jerk sneaking a smoke when we arrived. He apologized quickly, snuffing out his cigarette in a portable ashtray, and beat a hasty retreat. It was a minor inconvenience, though neither Lillian nor I were happy about the lingering stink in the air. This was why we didn’t let Arch smoke indoors, save for Charlotte’s special lounge.

  Finally on our own, away from crowds and prying ears, I debated over where to start. Should I fill her in on everything that had happened? Lillian had been there for pretty much all of it, so she likely didn’t need a refresher. I could kick things off with Deborah, but on her own, the new vampire hadn’t done or said much—not so far as I could prove, anyway. No, there was really only one place to kick off this conversation, and it was with the most pertinent piece of information Deborah had offered.

  “Lillian, have you ever heard of the Blood Council?”

  Up until that point, part of me was expecting Lillian to laugh at the term, or maybe take it in stride, basically do anything that might prove Deborah wrong. I’d seen her shrug off threats of death and starvation with a grin on her face, so it was hard to imagine anything would make her show fear. In that second, I no longer had to imagine it. Lillian’s eyes went wide as pure, naked terror flashed across her face.

  She looked around the empty stairwell, frantic, as if she might suddenly discern someone behind her, listening to every word we uttered. Only when she was satisfied we were alone did Lillian turn back to me. “Sometimes, I forget your sire didn’t stick around to teach you about this stuff. Yes, Fredrick, I am very familiar with the Blood Council as an entity, although I’ve been fortunate enough to never meet one of them in person. They’re our version of the bogeyman.”

  “I thought that was agents?”

  “Agents scare every parahuman,” Lillian explained. “The Blood Council deals only with vampires. They are the highest authoritative body our kind has, composed of the oldest, strongest vampires in existence. Agents deal with treaties, making sure the parahumans play nicely with both each other and the mundane people. The Blood Council sticks to issues between vampires, especially clans. Their authority is built into our treaties, too, so if they order the purging of a vampire, or even an entire clan, the Agency doesn’t have grounds to stop them.”

  The oldest and strongest . . . so, if Deborah was telling the truth, that meant she was among the most formidable vampires in existence. As someone who was generally weaker than even normal vampires, I had no aspirations of overpowering her in the first place, but it was still worrying to realize what a tremendous gap lay between our capabilities.

  “If they’re that important, why haven’t they come up before? This seems like it would have been a solid option for dealing with the House of Turva’s attempt to annex me.”

  Lillian blanched, then shook her head emphatically. “Hell no. First off, they definitely would have sided with an established clan over an abandoned vampire, so that was never even an option. Second, bringing in the Blood Council is dangerous for everyone involved. If they feel their time has been wasted, they’ll punish the people who called them, often in a very permanent fashion. The Blood Council is supposed to be a last-ditch effort, the sort of move you only make if you’re genuinely desperate. Given your propensity for taking long shots, I’m betting that’s exactly why no one’s ever mentioned them to you before. How did you even find out about them? And at a trade show, no less?”

  While she hadn’t exactly taken the first part well, I still trusted Lillian and her composure. Besides, if my clan was in trouble, then they had a right to know. “A vampire approached me earlier today, claiming to be from the Blood Council. She said a complaint had been filed, and that the House of Fred was under evaluation.”

  To her credit, Lillian didn’t leap up and sprint out of the building. That said, she did jolt and scan the area again, this time leaping up a few stories of stairs to be absolutely sure we were alone. When she came back down, the fear on her face had been replaced by resolve. She’d made peace with the situation.

  “Did the vampire give you a name?”

  “She called herself Deborah,” I said. “So she can’t be too old, at least. That seems like a fairly modern name.”

  “It’s not. There were Deborahs in the Bible, Fredrick.”

  It’s hard to say why that part, of everything, hit me so hard. After everything Lillian had just told me, it should have been a trivial detail, yet it was all I could do not to reel at the thought. With the probable exception of Gideon, who kept his private life extremely private, everyone I knew measured their lifespan in decades or centuries. The idea of someone living for thousands of years . . . that was troublesome to wrap my head around. How much had I changed in just the handful of years since I was turned? How different would I be if I kept up this pace for a millennium? There was no guarantee that Deborah actually hailed from ancient times; it was just a name, and that alone proved nothing. But going by Lillian’s description of the Blood Council, the lifespan would make sense. She’d specifically said only the oldest and strongest served.

  “D
o you know anything about a vampire named Deborah?” I asked.

  “If I didn’t get the point across, then let me say it plain. The Blood Council isn’t something we tend to casually talk about.” Lillian was still looking around, nervous, visibly uncomfortable with the topic. The amount this scared her told me it was a threat to take seriously, and every word she spoke only drove the lesson further home. “I heard a few rumors here and there over the decades. No one knows who heads it up, but supposedly vampires named Tadita and Okoro have appeared as representatives. Never heard of a Deborah, not that it matters. The vampire is less important than the power they represent.”

  It was a good point. I didn’t need to worry about the individual just yet, not until I was fully aware of what the Blood Council as a whole wanted with me. Evaluation was a vague concept; I was going to need more to go on before I could decide the best path forward.

  Slowly, so as not to startle my friend in her jumpy state, I caught the handle of the door leading back to the convention area. “I’m going to speak with Deborah—clan leader to council representative—and find out what they want. When it’s over, I’ll call you. If you don’t hear from me by sunset, pack the booth up as best you can and go back to Charlotte Manor. Krystal is on a mission, so get in touch with Arch and tell him everything that happened today. He’ll either know what to do, or who to ask next.”

  “I should go with you. You don’t need to face her alone.” The fear in Lillian’s eyes had subsided slightly. She was still visibly shaken, but refused to let it hold her back. I admired that determination and resolve—it was part of what had showed me how formidable Lillian was in the first place. But even determination has limits.

  “If we both go, and she kills us, then no one will know what happened. You’re my backup plan, Lillian. You’re the one who makes sure our friends are in the loop. And, to be perfectly honest, if someone from the Blood Council decided to kill me, do you think having another vampire at my side would make a difference?”

  “Having ten vampires at your side wouldn’t make a difference,” Lillian admitted. “But I still don’t like you going in alone.”

  “Neither do I. But I knew the responsibility I was taking on when I formed this clan, and it’s my duty to keep it safe.”

  I spun around, leaving the stairwell before I had a chance for my mind to be changed. If there was one thing I’d learned from Krystal, it was that, sometimes, bravery was a matter of charging in before common sense had time to catch up.

  Making my way through the halls, I noticed something was off, but it wasn’t until I returned to the trade show floor that I realized what had happened.

  It was empty: not a single living soul to be found in the aisles or booths. A complete wasteland. The lone figure that remained was a single person who certainly didn’t qualify as living. Deborah was here, alone, and waiting for me.

  8.

  “How?” Not the most brilliant question, I’ll grant you, but certainly a salient one given the circumstances.

  Deborah was sitting in one of the chairs at the Fletcher Accounting Services booth, restacking the business cards with unexpected efficiency. “Come on, Fred. You seem the sort who can put this together. From what I’ve read, you’re a smart man. Think back on all that’s happened today and hunt for the common theme. I bet you’ll figure it out.”

  The common theme? Well, there was the aggressive drunk who pissed off Richard, the crowd of people storming our booth, and now the sudden evacuation of an entire trade show. What was the common theme? People, maybe? No, humans. A human who knew just how to piss off Richard. Humans who’d flooded our booth. Humans were the ones who had left the scene. Did she have the power to control them? It wasn’t in the standard vampire toolkit, but part of what made our kind so dangerous was that we took on the traits of other parahumans when we drank from them. I hadn’t run into any parahumans that could completely control minds, however. The mind was a fickle, fearsome thing that resisted outside dictators. Influencing a brain, on the other hand, was much more viable.

  “You drank from a parahuman with the ability to mess with people’s heads. I don’t know if you’re fiddling with their emotions, showing them illusions, or what, but my guess is you’re doing something along those lines.”

  With a set of cards restacked, Deborah turned away from the table, meeting my eyes and applauding briefly. “Bravo! Most vampires your age would assume some manner of brute force or make things far too complicated, suspecting the use of potions, magic, or other trickery. You were vague, but in the right ballpark. A little extra aggression and some suggestions for how to vent it with a drunk, dialing back people’s self-control when they encounter a mage with enhanced charms, giving a whole trade show floor the hallucination of a fire alarm—nudges, really. People are often ready to make the wrong choice, they just need an opportunity.”

  I was, admittedly, not the most educated on the parahuman world by this point, but I still knew enough to understand that influencing an entire trade show at once was not a small feat. “What kind of creature did you drink from to fool that many humans at once?”

  Deborah wagged her finger at me, along with a few “tsk” noises. “Ah, ah, ah, Fred. I don’t mind questions in general—heaven knows you have much to learn—but you’re not getting anything that specific. I won’t be teaching you about one of my favorite bloods to drink and, may I say, the question itself underlines a fundamental failure in your understanding of how our power works. To clarify, the creature I drank from wouldn’t have been able to touch that many minds. They lack the raw strength. When we take on their traits, we take them on at our level of skill and power, and the older we are, the more punch those abilities have. The wisdom of experience is nice, but that’s the real reason vampires are feared as they increase in age.”

  That was not the answer I’d been expecting. Carefully, I made my way to another chair, righted it, and sat. Vampires were able to draw more power from what they drank as they aged . . . what, then, would happen if someone from the Blood Council took a sip of blood from someone like Gideon? A single drop had augmented my strength to near unmanageable levels. I couldn’t imagine the horror an older vampire might cause with that kind of power. No wonder dragons naturally evolved an aura of terror to cow vampires; it was a defense mechanism against creatures that could grow exponentially stronger if they managed to draw even a small amount of blood.

  “You see, Fred, this is a prime example of the issue you’re facing. As an abandoned vampire, you haven’t been properly educated in the ways and culture of our people. The House of Turva has claimed you are so lacking, in fact, that you do not have the authority as a vampire to form your own clan.”

  Of course the House of Turva would say that. After the jerks had tried to force me into their ranks, their representative ended up furious when I founded a new clan to prevent annexation. Though I hadn’t expected or known about it at the time, many of my friends had joined in the effort and become members of the House of Fred. Albert, Neil, Lillian, Bubba, Amy, all of them were in this mess because they’d wanted to help me.

  “If you’re here talking to me instead of outright killing me, should I take that as a sign that the Blood Council hasn’t sided with the House of Turva yet?”

  “This is so refreshing. I can’t tell you how many fools would try to attack me or run at this point instead of putting the pieces together.” Somehow, despite the content of the discussion, Deborah was still perfectly at ease and spoke with sincere warmth. It was unusual by vampire standards—or the standards I’d encountered thus far—but as it was helping me keep a level head through a tense situation, I wasn’t complaining. “You’re quite right,” she continued. “At the moment, the decision is considered pending. Some of the others wanted to purge you outright once they learned you’d allowed non-vampires into your clan, but I persuaded them to let me do a full evaluation first. Most of your alliances are worthless against us, sorry to say, but even the Blood Council sh
ows prudence before killing a servant for the King of the West.”

  Part of me wanted to protest the word “servant,” since Gideon and I were more akin to business acquaintances. In another context, we might have actually been friends, but there was only one non-dragon Gideon cared enough about to hold that title, and it wasn’t me. Regardless, I could see Deborah’s hesitation. As one of the most powerful dragons in the world, Gideon was not someone to risk the ire of lightly. I’d once done him a favor, and in return, he’d offered to wipe out the House of Turva in a single night. Scared as Lillian was of the Blood Council, I had no doubt they were powerful. However, I’d actually gotten a peek at Gideon’s true abilities once, and if it was a fight between him and anything less than a god, I’d put heavy money on Gideon to win.

  “I think I get it. The House of Turva wants me gone, and others probably do too, because I broke some unspoken rule. But if you kill me, you might inconvenience or annoy Gideon, who isn’t shy about showing his displeasure. So instead, you’re doing an evaluation of me to see if the claims about me are true. If they aren’t, then I go free?”

  “And the House of Turva pays for calling us in without cause,” Deborah added.

  I tried not to think about that at the moment; there were other concerns to tackle first. “Understood. And what happens if I fail this test of yours?”

  “Ordinarily, we would purge your entire clan from existence.” For the first time, Deborah looked a bit sad, as though she disliked the idea. “In your case, Fred, we’re willing to make an exception. If you’ll enter into a deal with me tonight, agree to abide by our decision no matter what, then I will promise to leave the rest of your clan untouched in the event of failure.”