The Legacy Series (Book 1): Legacy [Sanguis]

by Ray, Timothy A.

  “Only jist. Got about foive minutes. Naw flags as av yet,” the Irish voice responded as if he were in the same room.

  “Flags?” he asked, unable to help himself.

  “Our presence has not alerted any of the suits yet,” Naomi responded with an exasperated sigh.

  Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t complete my training in spy school before this particular outing, he internally snarked. If only Amanda could see me now. As soon as the thought formed he grimaced. It was the Amanda he loved that he referred to, but it was the monster that came to mind with just the slightest provocation.

  “I still don’t see what the point of any of this is,” he remarked. “They’ll never let us get close to him. All we’re doing is putting a spotlight on ourselves; I feel exposed.”

  As he swept the crowd he saw a glittering pair of eyes staring at him and his breath caught. He hadn’t seen Naomi before they left, had no clue what her part in any of this would be, and didn’t realize that she’d be amongst the crowd as one of the guests as well. Her dark hair was teased up revealing a long unblemished neck. She was wearing a black silk dress with one strap, her breasts pushed so high they had to have had artificial help; or he’d never noticed her curves before they were accentuated in this fashion. Her makeup was light, but her natural beauty made up for it and he saw the corner of her mouth twitch at his flabbergasted stare.

  “You’ve got drool on your chin, sport,” Renny’s voice told him at Naomi’s side, his own tux splendid and well-used.

  “I’m married,” he responded automatically.

  “Not anymore.”

  Ouch.

  “Sorry bro. Too soon?” Renny’s playful voice said.

  The smile and twinkle didn’t disappear from Naomi’s mouth or eyes, but they shifted slightly as someone began tapping the microphone.

  He forced his gaze away. I’m married. I don’t care how much time has passed, I’m still married. It was, however, too soon for his mind to even go there so he diverted it as swiftly as possible, focusing instead on the older man at the podium, his hand waving at those gathering before him.

  “Welcome, welcome,” the man greeted with a warm smile.

  He groaned, “we’re going to have to listen to all of this, aren’t we?” He was trying to talk louder than the man with the microphone, and it drew a couple of curious glances for his effort.

  “Keep it down. You’re standing there alone, you’re going to look even crazier than you already do. Stop drawing attention to yourself and go refill your glass. Seems like you could use it, gringo.”

  That was the Naomi he remembered.

  Moving towards the back of the room, he did his best to drown out the chuckling of the crowd and the boisterous voice talking up their guest of honor as if he were God, not a mortal man seeking election. “I noticed you dodged answering my question. You know, sooner or later I’m going to get some answers to all of this.”

  There was a bar and he smiled at the bartender as he asked for a Jack and Coke; the champagne was leaving a bad taste in his mouth. “Thanks,” he offered, a twenty in hand. The man accepted it with a smirk, like it was not enough of a tip. “Give me a break,” he growled, turning away and taking a sip, thankful for the burning as it flared in his stomach.

  “You stiff him?” Renny asked.

  “You’d think so.”

  “Looks like we’re up,” Naomi said, the smile in her voice dropping away. “Tell me you’re ready.”

  “As ready as Oi can be. Jist as long as they don’t git wise ter me bein’ in their system, we should be gran’,” Speedy answered.

  He had almost asked what he was supposed to be ready for, he had no idea that she hadn’t been talking to him. Probably best to only respond when spoken to then, since he had no frackin idea what they were doing here.

  The applause increased in volume and he saw that the Governor had finally stepped onto the stage to greet his guests. He was a middle-aged man with gray and black hair, wrinkles around the corners of his eyes, and a wide tooth-filled grin; obviously dentures. His hand was up, his fingers signaling victory, and he so wanted to go up there and wipe that shitty ass grin off the man’s face. This was the son of a bitch that killed his wife? He looked like Ross Perot with hair; he even had the fucking ears.

  “Weasel looking mother fucker, isn’t he?” Ezio whispered hoarsely.

  He choked mid-drink and spat alcohol in a fine mist before him, drawing even more curious stares. He had to cough it away, doing his best not to react and wave that he was fine to a waiter fast approaching. “Something caught in my throat, I’m fine,” he managed.

  The man gave him an appraising look, then jerked his head away as someone called for him.

  “I’ve got something for that throat of yours,” Ezio grunted. “It’ll burn just as much as that Jack you’re choking down.”

  “Knock it off,” Naomi’s voice responded, just as he muttered how gross that was. “As much as I’d love for this man to grandstand and line his pocketbook, I don’t have the patience for it. Hit it.”

  There were two monitors on the wall at the rear of the auditorium, each depicting the grinning face of the politician mid-speech, and they suddenly filled with static, the mic cutting off in the middle of the man’s sentence.

  The video flickered, then a familiar white mask filled the picture, the malicious blue eyes staring out at the crowd and causing more than a few people to shriek. People were pointing, conversation was fast breaking out, and the Governor looked confused; he had no clear line of sight to the monitors that had so quickly taken his night away from him.

  “I told you what would happen should you ignore my request. What follows is on you,” the voice said, slightly different this time; the Darth Vader had been stripped away.

  “Finally got de audio cleaned up. Nigh they’ll ‘ear exactly who so’tiz they’re votin’ for,” Speedy told them, pleased with himself.

  “Security, we need security in here,” a voice said on the intercom, the Governor still standing there, watching in horror as the video continued regardless.

  He saw his old classmate and his wife down on their knees, their hands bound behind their backs, their cries begging for the mercy that would never come, crying for his soul to avenge their deaths.

  That’s why I’m here.

  Yet, there was something in the back of his mind banging on the walls of his subconscious, struggling to be freed. His feet had him moving towards the stage, his body easily maneuvering between horrified guests as he walked without thought. There was something off, he just couldn’t put his finger on what.

  “I don’t know who you are talking about!” Mario blurted in a panic. “Whatever you want, use me. Let my wife go, I beg you!”

  “Your memories are irrelevant, your life means nothing, but your death will serve a greater purpose. You are the first of many and will give testimony for what is to come. And trust me, he knows exactly who you are,” the unfiltered voice sneered.

  There was something wrong with the voice. The cadence is wrong, the tone different—something is off. But what? It was unfiltered, was that what was drawing his attention, or was it something else? He was half-way across the room, his eyes on the man on stage and the suits trying to pull him away.

  The screen pixelated, the frame rate too slow to give a clear picture, but the gargling sounds that erupted made it obvious that something devastating had just taken place. An instant later the blur was gone, leaving two headless corpses hovering on their knees, blood cascading down their torsos in a sick display of gore. Mario’s head was lying in his wife’s lap, his mouth still working but no voice emitting as his eyes found the camera. The dead man’s irises focused slightly, then swiftly expanded and became lifeless.

  People began to scream, the horrified gasps turning to absolute terror. He was still trying to push his way through them, his ears ringing from the shrieking, sure that at any moment the Governor would be yanked out of there and their shot at gett
ing him over.

  “You have one hour to return what you’ve taken, or another will be found to help persuade you, maybe a little bit closer to home this time,” the vampire growled, the mask filling the video screen once more before cutting off.

  He didn’t know what he thought he’d see on the man’s face when he confronted with his crimes, but the wide-eyed look of surprise was not it. The Governor of Texas resisted his security detail, his gaze fixed on someone to the left of the stage as he hurriedly tried to divert their attention elsewhere.

  His eyes tracked in that direction and he saw a thirty-something man in a white tux with a rose on the lapel. This man looked as if he was in a comedy club, like the murder of the innocents on the video monitors were part of a routine rather than the deed of the politician. The face was smooth, cleanly shaven, the short black hair slicked back, the grin that of a malicious sociopath rather than the aid the man was obviously pretending to be.

  “It’s not the Governor. It’s the guy in the white suit,” he managed, his hands reaching out to separate a screaming woman from her companion as he tried to make his way in that direction. The icy blue eyes of his target shifted from the Governor to him, as if his words had been heard, and the man inclined his head as if to say hello, bringing him up short and making his heart thud even louder.

  “Seize him!” a powerful voice roared from the stage, the Governor’s tone severe.

  What did I do?

  The vampire waved two fingers at him, then took off towards the back of the stage.

  “I’m on it!” Renny declared.

  “Ezio, cut off his exit,” Naomi commanded. “Derek, turn around. There are about twenty men running towards the door he just fled through, you’re not going to get ahead of them. Go get the Humvee going in case we need a fast exit.”

  The man that had killed his wife was right there, maybe twenty yards away, and she wanted him to go get the car? Was she mad?

  “Now, Derek or he will get away. Once he’s out of sight of his pursuers, there’s no reason for him to hold back on his speed anymore. It’s night, he’s in full possession of his abilities, and if we don’t catch him fast, he’ll get away. Then we might never find him again. I’m not asking, I’m telling you. Go—get—the—Humvee.”

  It was hard for him to resist the command in her voice, despite his urgent need for revenge. Gritting his teeth, he turned and started pushing his way through the crowd. They all appeared to be transfixed by the face frozen on the screen, the bloody corpses barely in view behind it. They hadn’t noticed the commotion taking place on the stage just yet.

  They had been wrong, it hadn’t been the Governor after all. Seemed like a huge miss on their part, what if they had killed the wrong man? It was a scenario he was very glad he wouldn’t have to face. Killing a vampire was one thing, but an innocent man? They wouldn’t be able to pretend they were the good guys then.

  Not being the Governor, would that make it easier or harder going forward?

  No time to think about that. Right now, I need to get the Humvee and make sure this son of a bitch doesn’t get away. He kept that thought fixed firmly in his mind as he rushed out of the auditorium and the stairs leading to the outside world.

  II

  His was rooted in place, his ability to move just as hindered as the rest of the crowd that had been rushing down the steps towards the street. By now he should be dashing towards the parking garage where the Humvee was parked, but there was a man with a gun standing on the sidewalk, the assassin’s grip steady, his pose calm.

  At first, he thought it was pointed at him, wondered if security had found him out after all, but soon realized it was slightly right and lower than need be to hit him. He followed its track and noticed that it was pointed at a man in his forties, obviously a patron of the party and not a member of the staff. His blond-haired date was moving sideways with her arms up, clearly wanting no part in what was about to happen.

  After the shock of what had just taken place inside, the dazed party-goers seemed done in, unable to do anything to stop the travesty that was about to take place.

  He snapped himself out of it and pushed his way forward in an effort to reach the intended victim of the would-be assassin. There were things that he needed to do, a monster he needed to catch, but there was no way he could just run from this without at least making an effort to save the man.

  I wish I had my armor.

  He was ten-feet away when movement from his right drew his eye. A dark-haired woman in a black trench coat was charging the man with the gun. Apparently, she couldn’t stand around and let it happen either. “Hey!” she yelled, trying to draw the assassin’s attention.

  His fingers gripped the man in the suit by the shoulders and he yanked hard just as the sound of the gunshot rang out, temporarily rendering him deaf in the process. A gust of wind flashed past his cheek, making it clear he’d nearly taken the fatal shot himself. A scream erupted behind him just as the woman’s hand landed on the gun and pushed it in another direction.

  His ass flared as it struck the stairs, the man he had pulled down with him landing hard against his torso and pushing all the air out of his body at the exact same moment. He couldn’t even grunt in pain.

  The sound of sirens were floating in the distance, but who knew how long it would take for them to get there, the traffic had to be piled up as partygoers fled the scene. That didn’t stop the onlookers that were hovering in a half-circle around them, eyes flashing between where they fell and the couple fighting on the sidewalk. The man in his lap was breathing heavily, as if having just dodged Death himself, and the truth was—he had, and it had nearly taken him in the man’s place.

  “Mr. Cassidy, are you all right?” a man in a suit asked as he knelt at their side. The man’s date was wavering over the security officer’s shoulder, hands over her face and eyes full of fear.

  The intended victim he’d pulled out of harms way shrugged himself forward and took the offered hand. Getting to his feet, his face turned towards the fight taking place ten feet before them, the look on his face making it clear he was trying to figure out what was going on, why someone had tried to kill him.

  He couldn’t see anything himself, but his back was aching from the fall, so he turned on his side and pushed himself to his feet as well. The crowd gasped suddenly, indicating that something new had happened. He quickly turned to see what they had gotten so excited about and realized that the fighting had come to an end, the assassin and the woman in the trench coat had mysteriously disappeared.

  Well, that’s not strange at all.

  A hand fell on his shoulder and he turned to see a serious face with penetrating eyes staring back at him. He had an earpiece chord hanging down on one side and a weapon in his other hand. “Interlace your fingers behind your back.”

  “What are you doing?” the man they called Cassidy asked. For the first time, he saw the face of the man he rescued and realized that he looked familiar. He wasn’t sure from where but felt that with just a nudge it would free itself. “This man just saved my life.”

  His eyes were transfixed on the older man in front of him and he barely felt the hand leave his shoulder as Cassidy reached forward and offered his hand. He took it quickly and gave it a pump, but the other man didn’t release right away, using the link to pull themselves closer together.

  “I don’t know who you are, why you did what you did when everyone else was content to just stand there and watch, but I would like to change that. It never hurts to have a man like that in your life. You did a great thing here, and I won’t forget it,” the man returned. The suit came along side and whispered in the man’s ear. “I will in a second. Did they find the shooter after they disappeared?”

  “No one has seen them since he disappeared with that other woman. We don’t have identifications on either, but we are working on going through the security footage now. Houston PD are setting up roadblocks, they won’t get far,” the security officer answered
, eyes on the crowd. “That doesn’t mean he’s not lurking around here somewhere waiting to take another shot. We need to get you off the street.”

  “You get to the Humvee yet?” Naomi asked in his ear. “He’s in the back alley heading north.”

  “Shit, I’ve got to go,” he muttered, releasing the man’s hand.

  The security officer glared at him, “you need to stick around to make a statement, help identify the shooter.”

  “Got a pen?” he returned swiftly.

  “Who are you talking to? Derek, what the fuck is going on?” Naomi snapped.

  The woman that had been hovering nearby handed one over, her fingers shaking lightly. He gave her a comforting smile, pulled the receipt from where they’d picked up his suit out of his back pocket and jotted down his cell. “If they have any questions, they can find me here, but I have urgent business that can’t wait.”

  The familiar face and kind eyes of the man he saved found his once more and he nodded in understanding. “I’ll take care of it. You’ll hear from me soon. And thanks again.”

  He smiled and bowed his head, then broke away and darted down the stairs.

  “Isn’t that the astronaut?” someone asked from his left as he hit the sidewalk.

  It clicked. That’s where he knew him from.

  Well, shit. How about that?

  “Hoops, Ezio, do you still have him? Or did we lose him? El maldito puto seems to have gotten lost.”

  “I’m here,” he breathed heavily, dashing towards the parking garage and reaching for the keys in his pocket. He hadn’t realized when Naomi handed them over that he’d be the getaway driver, but he should have known that’s where she’d stick him. Unlike the others, he had a personal investment in seeing justice done, and in a situation like tonight, she’d see that as a hindrance rather than advantage.

  “Where the fuck is here, puto?” she snapped. “You have comms for a reason. I should have known better than to bring you along.”