The Endangered (The Endangered Series Book 1)

by S. L. Eaves

  Catch’s reaction, despite the rumors of Vega’s questionable actions, is warranted. I remembered feeling speechless when I first encountered Adrian. There’s a certain aura of omnipresence about them. Without know the full extent of their influence, there’s an almost palpable feeling of considerable power when you’re in the presence of the demon this formidable.

  We settle into an old classroom he’d converted to an office. Bookshelves line the walls; whether they are from the school or his personal collection I can’t tell. They are certainly dusty enough to come with the building…maybe not old enough to be Vega’s. An uneasy Catch keeps shooting me nervous glances. I lean back in the old leather armchair by Vega’s desk, feeling pieces of rib poke my lungs.

  Vega pours three glasses of Old English without asking. We accept them and he takes his seat behind the desk.

  “I take it you have not been in touch with Marcus?”

  “No, he’s not in town and your men broke my comm. I tracked the van here. Your boys are not very good at being inconspicuous.”

  I remember when Jiro injected me with the tracking device. Catch and I exchange knowing glances as I rub the tracer in the back of my neck.

  “No, I suppose they aren’t… I am sorry we are meeting under such circumstances. Which is why I feel bad asking, but if I may, can you tell me about Franco?”

  Catch shifts in his seat.

  “He gave me my limp.” Catch stares into his drink.

  “Perhaps I should start.” Vega’s eyes turn from Catch to me. “He’d been spying on a werewolf pack in the city. His reports were coming in less and less frequently and increasingly vague in nature. I sent Conner to check up on him. You both met Conner."

  Catch finishes off his drink, looks over at me.

  Vega continues, “Conner and Franco go way back. Conner’s loyalties are with me, however, so I could trust his judgment. Or so I thought. He came to the States with a couple of his comrades and reported back a few days later that Franco was onto something big and hadn’t been communicating for fear of breaking cover.

  “He’d gotten himself sucked in too deep. Thus, I decided a venture to the States was in order. A little investigating revealed many flaws in Franco’s story. Conner suspected Franco wasn’t dealing blood anymore, for one. Then he refused to meet with me directly. Probably because I’d know if he were lying.”

  “Did he provide Conner with anything useful to back up his story?”

  “Not really. Said werewolves were buying up chemicals. Operating a lab.”

  He refills our drinks and sits down with the bottle.

  “He may have been telling the truth about that,” Catch says.

  “Be it as it were, Franco’s allegiance was questionable. So now that you’ve confirmed my suspicions, do me one more favor and fill in the blanks.”

  I watch Catch mull this over. I can’t see the harm in sharing intel, but it is his call to make.

  “We recently infiltrated a warehouse run by wolves. Storage for lab equipment and weaponry. The stock was being supplied by vampires, mostly. In exchange for blood. That’s where Franco likely played a part.”

  “And these supplies are for?”

  “Wolves are creating a virus of some sort. We are pursuing a couple angles to that end—either human infection or extinction of our kind; maybe both. We can’t confirm it yet. Two brothers are leading the cause.”

  “Striden and Deacon?”

  Vega isn’t completely in the dark.

  “Uh huh.”

  “We want to know who they are targeting and why. Our investigation led us to him, we thought we might have better luck getting answers from a vampire than a wolf. We just wanted to ask him some questions. He had other ideas. We didn’t want to take him out. No one benefited from that.”

  “No. I suppose I should have intercepted him sooner. Questioned him myself,” Vega sighs. “To be honest I saw no reason why a vampire would ally with the werewolves. What could possibly be gained that would justify the risk of being branded a traitor? I’m no fool. I know I’ve been in the dark for a while, but there are certain things that defy logic.”

  “Franco isn’t the first vampire to fall in league with wolves. Blood is a valuable commodity,” I offer.

  “Hmmm…” Vega stares into his empty glass. I empty mine.

  “What about Conner? You said they were close,” Catch asks.

  “The thought has certainly crossed my mind. But no, he’s not the brightest and I think he genuinely believed Franco was in an undercover situation. Said he was in over his head.”

  “Which he was.”

  “We were hoping to get Franco to take us to Striden. Or at the very least shed some light on this virus business.”

  Vega nods, strokes his mustache.

  “You knew Striden was alive. Of his involvements.” I call him out.

  Vega shakes his head. “I had my reservations after the firestorm, but assumed his younger brother had taken up his cause.”

  “And you couldn’t have alerted Marcus to this?”

  “I didn’t have any concrete information. Like I said, just theories. And I certainly didn’t know either of them were operating out of this city. I had no reason to link Franco’s actions to them until tonight. If you’re going to turn this into an interrogation I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  Catch speaks up. “We just want to learn more about Striden. We didn’t mean it to sound like an accusation.”

  With the tension relenting, I interject. “Did Conner get any information about their activities from Franco?”

  Vega thinks for a minute. “Once we suspected Franco wasn’t being straight with us, Conner began tailing him. He might be able to point you in the right direction.” Vega shrugs. “Is there anything else I might do to aid your cause?”

  Catch and I exchange glances. I know what he is thinking.

  “Join us. Fight with us. You and your followers would double our efforts.”

  Vega shakes his head. “This is not my war.”

  “Why? Why do Purebloods think they are above defending vampires? Forgive me, but it’s as though you want us to fail.”

  Catch shakes with exasperation as he speaks, like he had no control of his words, his temper. I search Vega for a reaction but get nothing.

  Catch stands and motions to help me up. I hold my hand to stop him.

  “You were there the day of the fire. You made it. You survived somehow. Fire and daylight. You walked away.”

  I can see it. I can’t tell if I am reading his thoughts or he is projecting them onto me but I see the fire. I feel his guilt. His sorrow. He did not cause it. But he fled and his back has remained turned.

  He hesitates, gives a slight nod.

  “Why?”

  He stares into his glass. Catch sits back down.

  “It’s not that simple. I wasn’t forewarned about the attack, mind you. But I was there. And despite my efforts, I was only able to save a few. We all nearly succumbed to the sun that day. But I don’t expect you to understand and I needn’t justify my actions. Especially not to a couple of narrow-minded foot soldiers.”

  I feel Catch react and I grab his arm. Vega proceeds.

  “You only see the short term. I see time in the form of centuries. You see days, weeks, months…insignificant manmade increments. I’ve witnessed more wars than you’ll ever read about.”

  He gets up and refills his glass, this time from the merlot colored crystal bottle. Catch picks up his own glass, still full.

  “Allow me, if you will, to show you the big picture. Perhaps then you will understand my take on this war.”

  Vega settles into his chair and places his feet on the desk, stares up at the ceiling.

  “You see, there’s a natural order; it’s natural because it’s designed to take care of itself without interference from an outside provocation. In the present world, humans reside at the top of the food chain. Their supply is quickly depleting. Animals are being hun
ted to extinction. Crops are facing shortages. And not for the first time. When crops diminished a century ago, fertilizer was invented. Maybe another discovery of similar magnitude will intervene. Who’s to say?

  “Factors like pollination, contamination, over-population, weather…One can say with relative certainty that corn, wheat, barely, various grains will face extermination in the near future, livestock will follow. Some studies predict humans will be living off insects by 2050. Maybe sooner. Maybe later. There are too many variables to consider.

  “It’s not that absurd. Many third world countries live off insects. They are a great source of protein and vitamins essential to human survival. But that’s neither here nor there.

  “So let’s fast forward. Say it’s now 2060. Werewolves have continued their surge and now make up a significant part of the population. By now humans are aware and have accepted their existence. It’s undeniable. Thus, they begin to hunt them. Food is scarce. The so-called Happy Meal is now grilled mosquito larva. But wolves are plentiful and can be captured and carved up before reverting to their human form, offering an abundance of meat. All other animals having been hunted to extinction, or close to it, and meat costing hundreds of dollar a pound…think about it.”

  “Cannibalism,” Catch concludes.

  “To an extent, yes. I needn’t remind you werewolves are no more human than we are. They can masquerade with less difficulty, but a guise is a guise. Wolves will attempt to hide behind their human form for protection, but only those more evolved can control their transformation; those who go untrained will fall powerless to the full moon.

  “Humans will do our job for us. To restore their balance, to fight for survival, they must take out their new predator. We need not lift a finger.”

  He pauses and sips from his glass.

  “Striden has made it apparent he has his own agenda. Are we certain he’s responsible for the attack on The Covenant?” He searches us for a response we don’t offer.

  “I digress. His followers will continue turning humans, risking exposure in exchange for growth. If anything this will expedite my theory and soon humans will take care of them for us. S&D is an illusion of wealth and power. I haven’t survived this long by waging war on illusions.

  “Plus, it’s not us they’re waging a war on; it’s humans. Seven billion in number. Try as they might, the wolves don’t stand a chance. To Striden, eliminating us is just a bonus. He’s deranged, believes he can take over the world. You, Marcus, Atticus, you’ve all come to believe he represents a true threat.

  “The only creature Striden is a threat to is himself.

  “I’d bet any money Atticus recognized this, but he couldn’t resist a fight. It was in his blood. From the days of the Roman Empire that bore him, he never stopped searching for something to fight for. For over two thousand years, rarely a war passed without his participation. He witnessed more acts of selflessness, more sacrifice, more suffering, more violence than anyone can begin to comprehend, even me. It drove him mad. Compounded with his age…I was not surprised to learn of his passing.”

  He looks at the ceiling for a long while. I rub my bullet wound, which is healing nicely but still burns like hell.

  “This time it was different. If Adrian was looking for a fight, he’d have gotten his hands dirty. He never shied away from a challenge. He wasn’t after Striden as much as what Striden was after. Trying to beat him to the punch, so to speak. He almost succeeded.” Catch looks to me, then back to Vega. “From what little we know.”

  “I carried a deep admiration and respect for Atticus. But I do not share his thirst for battle, never did. He still fed off the living, too, did you know that? For this reason, Marcus requested he not take up residence at The Covenant. Ironically, I think the house you currently use as a base is where Atticus moved to when Marcus and the others pressed him to leave. Marcus is diplomatic; I’m not surprised he fell back in favor with Atticus. Killing humans is no longer acceptable. Technology has made it an unnecessary risk. But to tell a Pureblood he must change his ways… Even I dare not utter such profanity.”

  He sniff his fresh drink. “So there you have it. It appears Atticus appointed you as his predecessors and Marcus to oversee your fate. Marcus is another whom I respect, but will never understand. I’ve heard rumors of a split Jekyll and Hyde psyche, but the Marcus I know is a philosopher at heart, more suited to play the game of Risk in the safety of his study then to pick up a sword.”

  While he has a point, Vega has obviously never met Mr. Hyde. I’d see what remained of Reece. It’s hard for me to believe someone of his temperament would drive Adrian away for his bloodthirst.

  Catch squirms a little in his chair. “Atticus was a Roman?”

  Vega shakes his head. “In searching for my own kind, I encountered him in Rome shortly after Augustus’ death in 14 A.D. But that is a story for another time. I am tired. Dawn is approaching and I’m sure you are anxious to return home.”

  He stands and motions to the door. We comply, but I hesitate.

  “I’m grateful for your help tonight, but I find it hard to believe your claim of ignorance in regards to Striden and his brother.”

  Vega maintains the same look of indifference he’d worn throughout our meeting. He shows no guilt, no protest, no denial, no anger, nothing.

  It must take centuries to master that level of apathy.

  “You’re no greater a creature than the roaches that infest this dump. The powers of a Pureblood are wasted in a being like you who stands on the sidelines and pretends to be above it when you’re really just a coward. A deserter.”

  I am trying hard not to let his dismissive attitude enrage me, but I cannot leave with a polite smile and nod as though everything is fine. When it is so beyond fucked.

  Catch takes my arm, tries to lead me out.

  “I don’t contest what you’ve stated here today, but I sure as shit won’t stop fighting if only to prove that our efforts are not in vain.”

  I resign to Catch’s plea to leave.

  “We all have our reasons. When you have survived as many centuries as I have, you stop wasting time over petty conflicts.”

  “Petty!” It is Catch’s turn to explode in disgust. “We are at war! Vampires are being wiped out by these mongrels! You made us, but you won’t protect us or even help us save ourselves.”

  His fist clenches, veins ripple across his sheer skin as his eye ignite.

  Conner appears in the doorway.

  “You summoned, sir?” Telecommunication?

  “Yes, Conner, please supply them with the address of the building Franco frequented and show them out.”

  “Thank you for your time,” Catch manages through gritted teeth.

  I hobble out after him.

  “Atticus saw great potential in you, Lori.”

  I stop, regarding Vega curiously. “How would you even know? Were you sipping wine with him in the Caribbean? Perhaps enjoying the ocean view?”

  He ignores my sarcasm. I begin to exit. Have a thought, turn back.

  “Why’d he do it?”

  Vega purses his lips. “Time will take us all, Lori. It takes its toll on all of us.”

  “Even us immortals?” I quip.

  “Especially us immortals. One day you will understand.”

  I nod. “I think I’m beginning to.”

  “Hopefully, if we meet again, it will be under better circumstances.”

  I head down the hall. Conner is handing Catch a piece of paper. I do my best to ignore him as I fall in stride with Catch. I fight the urge to sock him as I pass.

  “Hey, no hard feelings, huh?”

  I spin to meet his eyes, mine burning like embers. Conner stands about an inch shorter than me. He swallows hard. Catch grips my arm. Down the hall, Vega watches from the doorway of his study. I’ll behave myself.

  “If we ever cross paths again, you better be packing more than that .38.”

  Catch gives a little tug. I oblige.

&nb
sp; “Adrian had one thing right about you two,” Vega calls after.

  “Oh yeah?” I say over my shoulder.

  “You’re pugilists.”

  ***

  We return to base. Catch barely says two words in the car. I rest my eyes. Finally, when we near the base, he speaks.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  ‘Everything Vega’s thugs did. I should have—”

  “Stop. Please. Catch. It went down how it went down. We attacked a vampire. We knew the risk we were taking and we chose to take it. Both of us. Don’t you dare blame yourself. I’m the one who carries a stake…”

  “We’re too anxious about Striden. Normally I’d have done more research on Franco. Maybe discovered we weren’t the only ones tailing him, maybe learned of his ties to Vega. Maybe not.”

  “No use speculating.” I take his hand in mine. “No regrets.”

  “Yeah, I know. I—Well hell, I felt kinda foolish barging in like I did. Wielding my sword like a bloody crusader.”

  “My knight in shining armor.”

  “Right out of Monty Python.”

  I laugh. It hurts to laugh.

  “I can’t believe you called Vega a coward.”

  “It wasn’t news to him.”

  ***

  Being that our temporary housing doesn’t have a shower, I do my best to wash up in the bathroom before collapsing on my air mattress’s inviting down comforter. Every time my eyes close I see a flash of light and hear the gun fire a bullet into my leg. Exhausted and traumatized, I keep running the last few hours through my head like a video on continuous loop.

  Vega, like Adrian, had said little but implied a lot. Well, he’d said a bit more, but still, there was a warning in his words.

  Catch brings over a glass of blood.

  “Drink up.”

  He sits on the bed, rubbing my back. I roll over, sitting up. I take the glass.

  “Marcus and Crina are on their way back. They will want a full report.”

  “Of course they will…” I sigh. “What did you make of Vega’s little speech?”

  “You mean about our efforts being futile?”

  I nod.

  “Honestly, it scares me. I mean, to think of werewolves openly integrating into society…the chaos that would follow. And I don’t see any scenario where the world would be safer for us. Our efforts to take out the wolves preserves our disguise as well. Could be Vega’s theory holds up. But what if it doesn’t?”