by S. L. Eaves
When we hit the thick of the mosh pit, we drop to a crouch and weave our way to the far end of the stage, stopping beside a tower of amps. Our pursuers are nowhere in sight.
“We lost them.”
“They’ll be watching the exits. Let’s wait inside for a few.” Quinn checks her clip, slips the gun in her boot and stands up, scanning the crowd. I examine my hand. The wound has begun to heal. I make a fist and hardly feel it. I slide my stake out and Quinn smiles.
“You came prepared.”
“Yeah. First vampire kills tonight.”
“Popped your cherry.”
“How’d you take out Hanson?”
“Bedpost.”
We press our backs against the side of the amps. The Marilyn Manson impersonator’s voice resonates through our bodies.
“I’m out of ammo. That piece of wood is all we’ve got. Comes down to us versus them we’re in trouble.”
Her mouth is against my ear but she still has to scream. I nod.
“Then let’s not get caught.”
I point behind the stack of equipment cases, thinking I spot a door behind them. She follows my lead as we slip around and find the backstage entrance. Two grungy guys, humans, give a nod and let us through. Within seconds we are standing outside next to a van with a missing hubcap and a cracked rear window.
“Tour bus,” Quinn jokes as we scan the alley.
Three guys stand at the alley’s entrance, smoking and passing around a bottle. We run to the fire escape of the neighboring building and climb to the roof. The smokers never so much as look in our direction.
“They’ll be searching up here next. We gotta keep moving.” I am already across the roof, checking for signs of our pursuers.
Quinn runs past me, taking the three-story plunge to the adjacent rooftop with the ease of a pro. I leap after her and we take off for the nearest train station, sticking to rooftops for the duration. I’d had my fill of Amsterdam for one night.
Chapter 20
We did not leave empty-handed.
Quinn had swiped Hanson’s cell and I still had his associate’s. At the very least we’d certainly thrown a wrench in any of their immediate plans.
At the mansion, we present our findings to Jiro for dissection. There are only a handful of numbers and even fewer assigned names, which all appear as acronyms or code names. Alex’s number, listed as “Lex,” is the only one we can identify. The vampire who’d sent the warning, the one I’d taken out, went by Griffin.
Griffin and Hanson appeared to be in frequent contact. Had I not been so quick to take Griffin out, I might have been able to learn something. How I’m not sure, but I probably should have tried before my paranoid freak out.
While Griffin’s cell is just a burner, Hanson’s smartphone proves somewhat more valuable. Jiro extracts all the data and we sit around putting the pieces together, a puzzle with a grim picture.
Hanson appears to be trading weapons, technology, and lab equipment in exchange for werewolf rejects—weaker humans that didn’t quite fit the “ultimate soldier” persona. Hanson had requested women specifically. He also kept increasing the amount of money he wanted. He either had a staff of underlings to satisfy or a lot of bribe money to doll out. Or both.
Now, with what slim leads we have, a new mission begins to form—track down these shipments and see where they lead us, who they lead us to.
Catch is, somewhat to my surprise, pleased when I recount our excursion into the Amsterdam underground. My detailed account includes our actions against fellow vampires. Catch is unflustered. Clearly, he’d have done the same thing in our shoes. His only worry is how our actions will be interpreted within the community. It seems inevitable that word of vampire against vampire violence will spread and this will not help Marcus’ efforts to unite what remains of our kind.
Catch, eager to report our findings to Marcus, paces the carpet in the main foyer while studying the same case notes over and over, hoping to impress his mentor when he returns from visiting Adrian. Catch is intuitive. A skilled athlete, no doubt. But book learning is not his thing. He’s the poster boy for the ‘Act now, think later’ mentality. While I doubt anyone would call him a meathead, it’s clear he uses his fists to solve a problem before considering alternatives. And he’s the first to admit this shortcoming. I watch as he attempts to understand and scrutinize every piece of intel he can get his hands on. He is driven by the desire to prove himself a worthy leader. And I’ve come to admire that about him.
I sit with him on the steps of the foyer, rubbing the massive knots in his brooding shoulders.
“What are our next steps?”
“We intercept Hanson’s shipments. Find out who’s on the other end of this alliance. The vampires bartering, that I understand. Vampires will do just about anything for blood, especially human blood. But what do the dogs want in return?”
“My guess is weaponry. Armies need supplies.”
“But would vampires deal out weapons that could be used against them?”
“Unlikely, but against humans—that’s another story.”
***
Running short on patience, Catch sends the others to follow leads provided by Hanson’s phone. Dade soon returns with news that the club had succumbed to fire shortly after our departure.
And the other vampires we can link to the club have been eliminated from our suspect list. Literally. With Hanson out of the picture, those working for him must have been considered expendable.
News of the Hanson’s former alliance makes its way from the club to the streets, and the events of his death draw attention away from us and to the remaining vampires under Hanson’s employ.
***
I spend my down time in the training room learning how to properly fire a crossbow and going through a lot of dummies in the process. Those things may look hardcore strapped to the forearm, but they are a pain in the ass to load and ever harder aim. Amsterdam was my first encounter with the weapon and it seems like a useful skill should we battle any more of our own kind.
On the day of Marcus and Crina’s return, Catch wakes up early, as has been his habit all week. I don’t even bother looking for him when I wake. I head down to the training room for another go at the crossbow, but find Xan and Trent already hard at work. Rather than interrupt, I circle the gymnasium’s exterior and find what I am looking for: a slim, unmarked door.
It glides open sideways with the push of a button, disappearing into the wall to reveal a set of stairs. I climb up to an observation room. Its existence is not a secret per say, just that my rookie status had yet to grant me an invite. I’d never cared much who, if anyone, was behind the glass but I’m curious enough to check it out. I flick on the light switch. Despite knowing it is impossible for anyone to see inside, I still feel exposed when I turn it on.
The room is disappointingly bare. Not sure what I expected to find. There is an intercom with a switch next to a mic with the same on/off option. I throw up the intercom switch and can hear the grunting of the two combatants below. I smile, enjoying the fight for a few minutes. Then, feeling intrusive, I decide to turn off the feed. Catch’s voice chimes in just as I am about to hit the switch. He enters, followed by Marcus and Crina. Well, maybe I can stay for just a little longer.
“Welcome back,” Xan says as he and Trent lay down their weapons and walk over to them.
“Trent, I hope you’ve found the mansion to your liking. Mind giving us a minute?” Marcus asks. Trent responds by nodding and making a hasty exit.
“What’s up?” Xan’s serious expression matches Marcus’s.
“Catch has updated me on the latest findings. We need to organize and get a game plan in action ASAP.”
“Did you two have much luck with Adrian?” Xan inquires.
“I’m afraid not. Can’t say we learned much from him. His behavior was bizarre; he was not the same as I remembered him. He spoke in tongues, often as though possessed. I don’t know what he discovered, but
it hasn’t had a positive effect on him. His age, either. He’s all but stopped drinking blood.”
“There’s a viral outbreak hitting that region hard. But I honestly don’t see how that could have possibly afflicted a Pureblood. I honestly think he’s just going crazy from hunger. He refused to touch a drop,” Crina adds.
“Why was he so interested in the virus?” Xan asks.
“He told me we have to find the source. He had a lot to say. None of which we could make heads nor tails of. But Crina is right. I’m less concerned about the virus, as neither of us are showing signs of infection. His mental state can almost certainly be attributed to his rapidly deteriorating physical state.”
Marcus gives a weary sigh and shakes his head somberly.
“His body is giving out. He’s the oldest known of our kind. We age very slowly, hardly at all when enough blood is consumed. But thousands of years will catch up to you. Even as a Pureblood, if he stops feeding, he won’t be able to sustain.”
“Can we do anything for him?” Catch’s expression is sincere.
They are all concerned. I am too, but I want him to live for selfish reasons: to answer my questions and to explain what it is he saw that no one else could seem to grasp.
Marcus shakes his head. “At this point he does not want our help.”
Catch looks dismayed.
“Xan, can you gather all the research you’ve done on these supplies the wolves were getting from Hanson? They were moving lab equipment too, right? Not just weapons?” Marcus is paging through Catch’s notes.
“Yes, so it seems.”
“Then we should focus on the anything medical, chemical or biological. Not artillery. Adrian was interested in this virus. If there’s a connection to be made…”
“I’m on it.” He is already out the door.
They are silent for a moment, then Marcus speaks softly. I have to press my ear to the comm to hear him.
“Catch, did Adrian ever give a reason why he recruited Lori? Aside from our brief encounter, you and Lori were the last to speak with him before his decline. I assume he wasn’t just playing matchmaker.”
Catch runs his hand through his hair, looks embarrassed by the last comment.
“He was helping our cause, finding a recruit that would complement our team, a good fit. Her circumstances made for a relatively easy extraction. No family…”
My ear burns against the comm.
“He told me she had a brain tumor and not long to live. And he sensed power. That she could be a see’er.”
Marcus and Crina raise their eyebrows at that remark.
“He wasn’t sure how it would present itself—whether as visions of some sort , maybe premonitions, mind reading—or that it even would, but he felt that she had this potential. Which could certainly give us a big advantage in the war. But one I’ve yet to see for myself.”
“And you didn’t think it relevant enough to tell us before now?”
“I was waiting to see evidence.”
“Does she know?”
No, she most certainly did not know.
“No. I doubt she has a clue. And I’d prefer to keep it that way. It puts a very large and unnecessary burden on her if she thinks she’s supposed to have these abilities. We can’t expect her to see how the war will end. And as I said, so far I’ve seen no signs to indicate Adrian was right.”
Marcus nods. “I’ve heard of see’ers, of clairvoyant vampires that practice telepathy and such, but I can’t say I put much merit in these claims. Mostly folklore.”
“It is so typical of Adrian to claim someone has psychic abilities,” Crina sighs.
“Adrian is of a different breed. I respect him immensely, but I need to see proof to believe. Abilities or not, she can help us and that’s all that matters. I’m sorry I can’t tell you more. I'll check on Xan’s progress.” Catch leaves the gym. Crina and Marcus watch him exit.
“You think he’s telling us everything?” Crina inquires.
“Catch? Why wouldn’t he?”
“Maybe he’s protecting Lori?”
“From what?” Marcus shakes his head. “No, I don’t sense any deception in his words. Too many uncertainties as it is. We cannot start turning suspicions inward. We need to focus all our energy on finding any validity to this virus claim.”
They leave. I switch off the comm and the light, and stand motionless in the dark, silent room.
Is it true? Can’t be. My health was fine. I haven’t set foot in a doctor’s office in years. How would Adrian know such a thing?
I recall the occasional headaches, nose bleeds, dizzy spells. Rare, but they happened.
And then I caught an arrow because I saw it fired into Quinn’s chest before it happened…
So there is that.
***
The hotel extends roughly twelve stories and overlooks a private beach and cerulean ocean. Adrian stands pensively on the balcony of the top floor penthouse, facing eastward. Despite the 90 degree night, he’s dressed to the hilt in a double-breasted velvet suit fit for a king. He sips an amber cocktail of the single malt variety. Dawn is fast approaching and he squints into the first rays of daylight.
Eventually he retreats into his well-appointed suite, leaving the long, floor to ceiling curtains designed to cover the double doors to the balcony pulled back. Adrian sets his glass on the bar and crosses to the stereo. At the push of a button Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto commences.
The sun climbs higher above the horizon and reaches through the open balcony doors. Suddenly Adrian crosses the room at full speed. He bursts into flames as he reaches the balcony and leaps over the rail. He plummets, disintegrating as he descends.
Chapter 21
Raindrops glisten under a full moon. Lori is perched on the landing of a fire escape. She crouches down and raps her knuckle on the window pane. A man opens the window, seemingly happy to see her. Lori stands, motions for him to follow.
Suddenly the city evaporates before them and they are walking through a wooded landscape. They reach a clearing and stare out into a rocky ravine. Lori gestures to push forward and he follows as they approach the edge of a cliff. The wind whips around them. Lori points down into the gaping valley. Water is rushing in, flooding the river bed below. Waves crash violently into the jagged rocks below. On the other side of the river, dense forests give way to a small clearing along the riverbank. A couple with two small children stands in the clearing. Terrified expressions on their faces, they slowly inch backward into the darkness of the trees as the water rises, lapping at their feet.
The trees offer no protection. Wolves pace the tree line, fiercely eyeing their prey.
The man turns to Lori, startled and confused. Their eyes connect for an instant, then Lori dives into the water beneath. The man drops to his knees, calling out after her, balancing on the cliff’s edge, the wind blowing him back.
Lori emerges from the dive unscathed and treads confidently across the river bank where the people are huddled and motions for them to join her. One by one she carries them, leaping clear of the impossibly rough water. She scales the cliff wall with ease and hands each person up to the man on the ledge.
Hungry yellow eyes disappear as the wolves retreat further into the woods every time Lori arrives on their side of the raging river, fangs bared. Winds gust with immense force. Lori claws at the dirt and roots as she makes her way up the mountainside to bring the last person to safety.
When Lori reaches the top of the cliff, her companion helps the last family member over the ledge and turns back to aid Lori. He extends his arm, a look of relief on his face. Lori grasps his wrist gratefully.
Lightning flashes and the man glimpses Lori’s yellow eyes and prominent fangs. Terrified, the man jumps back with a start and releases his grip on her arm. Lori tumbles backward, limbs flailing as she’s devoured by the menacing black water below.
***
I awake with a start and instinctively gasp for breath.
My
skin is sweaty, sheets damp.
It takes a good minute for me to remember where I am.
“Nightmare?”
Catch is lying at my side, his hands folded behind his head. He stares solemnly at the ceiling.
“Yeah… What’s your excuse?”
“Haven’t been able to sleep. It’s Adrian.” He turns to me. “Do you feel it?”
There is a pang in my gut. A void. A feverish chill runs through my body.
“Yes, I do. I thought it was aftermath from the nightmare.”
It was so vivid. I watched the whole thing unfold as a spectator in my own dream. Fending off the wolves from a faceless family of humans. And the man…he resembled Jeff. I’ve had my share of vivid nightmares since I’ve been turned but that one takes the cake.
“Subconsciously it may have impacted your sleep. It certainly affected mine.”
I sit up and shake my head in disbelief.
“Oh Adrian. Why?”
Catch rubs my back.
“I feel so weak…so hollow.”
“There will be a meeting.”
“A meeting?” I look into sullen eyes. He offers a simple nod and returns his gaze to the ceiling. I get up and make my way to the bathroom.
Adrian, what are you telling us? Is the end coming?
Showered and dressed, I emerge from the bedroom and discover Marcus standing by the window in the living room. He’s never visited my room unannounced.
“Uh hi, Marcus, make yourself at home.”
Marcus smiles weakly.
“Good evening, Lori. Forgive my intrusion, but it's rather urgent.”
“Adrian?”
Marcus reacts with mild surprise.
“Yes. Then you know.”
I nod. “Catch sensed it. His connection to him is much stronger than mine.”
Catch enters, fresh out of the shower, a towel around his waist.
“Hey, Marcus, thought I heard you. Are we assembling?”
“Yes, some couriers arrived with a letter from Adrian. Meet us in the study as soon as possible.”