Tall, Dark, and Vampire ditc-1

by Sara Humphreys

  The tall boots and leather gloves covered her as easily as the rest, but when she pulled on the long leather duster coat, she felt as if she’d stepped back in time. She wasn’t Olivia Hollingsworth, business owner and respected citizen. She was an executioner, and if you got in her way, her face was the last image you’d see before the world went silent.

  But only for tonight.

  Clipping the ammo belt around her waist, she immediately stocked up. She grabbed two black Berettas, along with several clips of ammunition, and slipped them into the harness, but of course, it wasn’t regular ammo. These clips contained silver-coated wooden bullets that could not only incapacitate a vamp, but a direct shot to the heart or the head turned them to dust. She strategically placed several silver stars and knives in the lining of her jacket with a couple sheathed inside the top of her boots.

  She required one last piece to complete the familiar ensemble and her traveling armory. Olivia went to the black box that rested on a high shelf directly above the row of uniforms. She carefully removed the box from its resting place, lifted the lid, and pulled the leather-handled, sterling dagger from its bed of purple satin.

  She held it up and admired the sleek, deadly blade. It had the word eternity engraved down the center of the blade on one side and her name on the other. When a sentry was sworn in to their first tour of duty, they were given the Dagger of Eternity as a symbol of their rank among the Presidium.

  Olivia secured the dagger in the sheath on her ammo belt and put the case back with the same care she used to remove it. She may not be a sentry anymore, but she still had respect for the position.

  Suited and armed, Olivia gave Van a quick pat on the head and snagged a hair elastic off her dresser. All black was great for blending in with the night, but bright red hair didn’t exactly blend. Olivia made quick work of tying her hair back in a long braid. Satisfied her curls were tamed, she headed out of her apartment.

  “Take good care of Oreo while I’m gone, big guy,” she called over her shoulder.

  A familiar sound filled the air. Her gloved hand hovered over the doorknob of her apartment as Vincent’s distinct presence rippled around her with the power of an elder—and her maker.

  “Shit,” she whispered.

  “Now, now.” His singsong teasing came clearly through the closed door. “Is that any way to speak about your maker?”

  Olivia rolled her eyes, grabbed the doorknob, and opened the door for the man who had turned her into a vampire three hundred years ago.

  “Well, what have we here?” He raised his salt-and-pepper eyebrows, as he looked her up and down in her full sentry regalia. He removed his hat and placed it under his arm as he gave her the once over. “Decided to play the game again, my dear?”

  “Hello, Vincent,” Olivia said wearily. Ignoring his comment, she stepped back and gestured for him to come in.

  Vincent swept into the room with all the regality someone would expect from looking at him. Between the long steel-gray topcoat and the hat and cane, there was no mistaking how uptight and formal he was. He surveyed the apartment with the same look he gave her—disapproval. To top it off, Van Helsing came racing out of the bedroom, growling at Vincent as if he’d never met him. Luckily, the kitten didn’t appear, which would only have given Vincent more fuel for his fire. He detested animals.

  Vincent glared at Van Helsing. “I suggest you call off that mutt before I break his neck.”

  “Van.” Olivia snapped her fingers, and the dog sat at her feet. He stopped growling but still looked at Vincent like he wanted to bite his balls off. She wasn’t sure why Van didn’t like Vincent. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” she said in the most pleasant tone she could muster. “I can’t believe you came to New York. I didn’t even realize that you were back in the States until you messaged me.”

  Vincent hated New York City. He detested America and rarely came across the pond in the last century, especially without more advance notice. The guy expected a fucking parade in his honor every time he came to visit.

  Vincent sat in the overstuffed leather chair, crossed his long legs, and placed his hat in his lap. “It seems that you are having trouble managing your coven,” he said quietly, while he rolled the handle of his cane between his fingers.

  Olivia didn’t sit, and if she wasn’t in the mood to be cordial before that comment, now she really wasn’t. She closed the door and stood in front of it with her arms crossed over her chest, trying to stop herself from telling Vincent to fuck off.

  She was his progeny but had been on her own for the last two centuries, and the last thing she needed was Vincent butting into her business, her life, or her coven. Tension settled in her neck, but she managed to keep a civil tongue.

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” she said a bit too sweetly.

  “Must we play these games, Olivia?” he said wearily. “I know about the mess your little blond vampire has made. She was turned five years ago, and as you know, she is still your responsibility. Therefore, her mess is yours, and since you are my progeny,” he said, baring his fangs, “it is now mine as well. And you know how I loathe messes.”

  Anger and resentment flared hard and fast, but Olivia held her ground. She kept her sharp eyes on him and let him continue.

  “Imagine my disappointment to have my holiday ruined.” He smoothed back his dark hair that grayed in patches at his temples. He was distinguished, regal, and a snob. “I had planned on having a pleasant visit, yet it seems that is out of the question. My first stop was to the Presidium so I could pay my respects to the czar and his senators. Sadly, my visit turned into a reprimand from Augustus. He informed me that Maya killed a human and left a messy situation for the police to deal with.” He made a tsking sound. “Quite unfortunate.”

  “What are you talking about?” Dread crawled up Olivia’s back. She wasn’t sure how Augustus found out, but that didn’t really matter. All that mattered was protecting Maya and the rest of her coven. “Maya didn’t kill that guy. Yes, I will admit that she fed on him and played with him all day, but she didn’t kill him. They only found trace amounts of Maya’s DNA, and according to Millicent, the prominent DNA in the wounds was from an unregistered vampire.”

  “Not according to Augustus,” he said darkly.

  “Augustus is a dick and a power hungry liar.”

  “Maybe,” Vincent said evenly. “However, he is still the czar of this district, and as a former sentry, you know better than anyone that there is a chain of command that needs to be followed.”

  “Really?” Olivia’s voice rose. “I guess he only bends the rules when it suits him or his progeny. His son, Brutus, let a youngling vampire out on the world with no training or guidance, and if you’ll recall, he was only sent into hibernation. Brutus was supposed to be put down with that poor creature he created, but Augustus seemed perfectly fine with adjusting the punishment for his son.”

  “Be that as it may,” Vincent said with an air of boredom, “he wants Maya put down. He’s under the impression that while Maya may not have killed the boy, she’s still responsible.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Olivia scoffed. “How?”

  “Augustus believes that Maya is the one who turned the rogue vampire, and therefore is indirectly to blame.”

  “What?” Olivia seethed, and her body shook with rage and frustration. “No fucking way. She didn’t do that, Vincent.”

  “I was quite sure that’s what you would say.” Vincent held both hands up to silence her. “I volunteered to come and speak to you myself, and since I am your maker, Augustus is allowing some leeway.”

  “Why would you do that, or why would he even allow it?” She could not understand why he would dirty his hands with this business. Vincent hated messes, as he said, and he was volunteering to insert himself in the middle of this one. He made no mention of the dead girl, which led her to believe the czar didn’t know about that yet. “What gives?”

  “He’s allowing it because he and
I have been friends for longer than you’ve been alive,” he bit out. He brushed his long, tapered fingers along the lapel of his topcoat in a calming gesture. “You are many things, Olivia. You are defiant, strong-willed, and unpredictable. However, you are not, nor have you ever been, sloppy.”

  Olivia’s jaw set, and she bowed her head in deference. She was all of the things he just said, but as far as she was concerned, they were strengths, not the weaknesses that he implied.

  “I assured Augustus that we would clean up this mess and leave the city.” He opened his gold pocket watch and glanced at it quickly. “You will gather your coven and come back to England with me tonight. You and your coven will be absorbed under my household.”

  Olivia’s hands balled into fists as she gaped at Vincent, and every shred of restraint shattered in an instant. There it was. Vincent had been itching to get her back under his control, and he was under the misguided impression that now was his chance. Not likely.

  After leaving her position as a sentry, she vowed that no one would run her life or control her again. Which was why she ran her coven more like a family than a military state, but all of that would change if she allowed her coven to be taken over by Vincent.

  “Who the fuck do you think you are? I will do no such thing,” she hissed. Olivia stalked slowly toward him, but he remained seated as calm as ever. “Maya didn’t kill that guy, and there’s no way she’s creating unregistered vampires. She’s a spoiled brat and cares more about getting her nails done than learning how to fight, but she wouldn’t put her coven—her family—in danger. We will hunt down the rogue tonight and kill it.”

  “There is no need to go hunting, Olivia. You will simply leave the country with me tonight, and Augustus will forget this happened.”

  “You may be my maker, Vincent, but you’re not my father, my husband, or my lover, and you have no say in my life. Your power over me ended after my first century as a vampire, and you know it. You have no right to come into my home and tell me what to do.”

  Vincent rose slowly from the chair but kept his dark, humorless eyes on hers.

  “I don’t like being defied, Olivia.” His glanced at the ammo belt on her waist, and his eyes narrowed. He may have been older than she was, but she was the one sporting an armory under her coat. “However, what I like even less would be to see my progeny slaughtered by the Presidium. If you come back to England with me now, then Augustus would be willing to overlook this indiscretion.” His voice dropped low. “But if you insist upon staying here, then there is nothing I can do to protect you. You will be entirely on your own.”

  “You did your due diligence, Vincent. However, I respectfully refuse. There’s a simple way to solve this. I’ll find the rogue and put it down. Then I’ll bring Maya before the czar, and he can read her blood memories to see that she didn’t do it. Plan made and problem solved.” Olivia stepped aside and motioned to the door. “I wouldn’t want to hold you up and ruin your holiday any further.”

  Vincent placed his hat on his head at precisely the right angle and moved slowly past her to the door. He paused and turned to face her with his hand resting on the brass knob. “I do wish you’d reconsider. Augustus expects someone to pay for this, and by all accounts, it’s going to be your little blond progeny. I’d be surprised if he would deign to read her blood memories.”

  “Someone will pay,” Olivia said quietly. “You can bet on it.”

  “I hope it’s not you and your entire coven.” Vincent bowed deeply before stepping out the door and whisking up the stairs in a flourish.

  Van whined as Olivia went to the empty doorway, but he stayed by her heels, offering comfort.

  “My sentiments exactly,” she whispered.

  She left soon after Vincent, much to Van’s dismay. Olivia passed the entrance to her office, turned the corner where stone steps changed to wood, and flew up the old stairs to the exit in the roof. She popped the panel open and stepped onto the angled roof of the old church. Olivia pressed the slate panel closed and surveyed the New York City night warily. If the rogue was killing her customers, then odds were it was still lingering here in Greenwich Village.

  She glanced at the digital watch on her wrist. Six more hours until sunrise. Six hours to find the rogue vampire and glamour Doug. Her lips tilted. Maybe.

  Hey, boss lady. Pete’s voice cut into her mind. Meet me at Washington Square Park.

  Olivia leaped from the roof and flew toward the park, swiftly and silently. Not even the birds knew what it was that blew past them in the cool spring night. Minutes later she landed without a sound behind the construction site where Pete and Shane were waiting.

  As his maker, she could detect his presence in the air almost the way a bat reads sonar waves. Too bad she couldn’t detect just any vampire as easily. It would have made finding the rogue a hell of a lot easier. Leaning against the brick building hidden by shadows, he was almost invisible to the naked eye, but Olivia spotted him easily.

  “You look good,” Pete said with a nod of approval. “How long has it been since you put that on?”

  “Not long enough,” she said wearily. “Where’s Quesada?” Hands on her hips, she scanned the area, sensing the other vampire in the vicinity. “I know you’re here, Shane.”

  “I am here,” said a baritone voice behind her.

  Olivia didn’t turn around but waved him forward, and a moment later, he was standing next to Pete with an emotionless expression. She looked him up and down as she nodded her approval.

  “Good to have you on the hunt.” Her eyes met his. “How much has Pete told you?”

  “There is a rogue on the loose, and from what I have heard, you feel that your progeny is being unfairly blamed for creating it.” He grinned, his white fangs flashing in the darkness. “I’m here to help you find it and kill it. Rogues are dangerous, messy, and savage. They have no honor or respect for the order of our society and do not deserve the gift of immortality. It will be my pleasure to assist you in destroying it.”

  “I see.” Olivia held his stony gaze. “What about the czar? Aren’t you breaking the rules by helping us before reporting to Augustus?” She wanted to see how much he knew and what he was willing to share. “From what I hear, you are all about the rules.”

  “As a former sentry you know that putting down rogues takes priority over all else.” Shane’s voice dropped low. “Augustus knows all about your progeny’s role in this mess. I am here to not only help hunt and destroy the rogue, but also to ensure that you and your little troublemaker come before the Presidium tomorrow evening. You have one night to find this rogue. After that, your coven will pay the consequences.”

  “This is bullshit,” Pete spat.

  “Fine.” Olivia held her hand up, silencing him, but didn’t take her eyes off of Shane. “I had a feeling your help would come with strings attached. We’ll take the help, and after we capture the rogue and prove Maya’s innocence,” she said with a sigh, “I’ll also take an apology.”

  Shane smirked but said nothing. Olivia knew his kind. He was blindly devoted to the Presidium, and even more than that—to his duty as a sentry. She had no doubt he would be a fierce hunter. She also had no doubt that he would kill her and the rest of her coven if it meant following the czar’s orders.

  She turned her attention to Pete.

  “We now have two dead humans thanks to this rogue asshole and—”

  “Two?” Shane interrupted.

  “Yes.” Olivia winked. “Try to keep up.” She looked back to Pete and did her best to ignore Shane. “Doug definitely thinks someone at The Coven is responsible.”

  “On a first name basis now?” Pete asked.

  Olivia chose to ignore the comment and continued. “On top of that, Vincent—my maker—expected me and the rest of my coven to run off to England with him. Apparently, us leaving town is the only way Augustus would overlook Maya’s involvement. He didn’t even want us to hunt for the rogue.”

  Shane said nothing,
but Olivia didn’t miss the slight narrowing of his eyes at the mention of Augustus’s willingness to bend the rules.

  “What?” Pete’s eyes glowed red, a side effect of his demon heritage. “Since you’re here, I take it that you told him to fuck off.”

  “Basically.” She looked at Pete through serious eyes. “When we get back to the Presidium, they’re going to tell you to kill Maya. Isn’t that right, Shane?”

  “Yes,” he said calmly.

  “No damn way.” Pete’s jaw clenched. “We’ll find the rogue and get it to confess to whoever turned it.” He sucked in a deep breath, and his eyes flickered back to normal. He gestured to the crime scene tape that fluttered in the wind. “I got a look at the body in the coroner’s van and took a DNA sample from the wound. The girl was killed just like Ronald Davis, so I had Millicent run the sample.”

  “It was a match?”

  “Sort of,” he said gravely. “It’s a rogue, but according to the DNA sample, it’s not the same rogue.”

  “Son of bitch,” Olivia seethed. “There are two?”

  Shane said nothing but listened intently as Pete continued.

  “At least,” he said grimly. “Their DNA sequences match them as siblings, which means we’ve got someone out there making their own little rogue coven and a bloody mess. The only good news is that Maya’s DNA wasn’t present on the girl at all.”

  “Well, it wouldn’t be, would it?” She went into the decrepit bathroom, and the room was thick with the scent of stale blood. “She’s been on lockdown since we found out about Ronald, but none of that really matters. Augustus has convinced himself, and the senators, that Maya made the rogue. If I know him, he’s already sent word to Emperor Zhao, especially since I didn’t agree to leave town.”

  She squatted and placed her hands on the floor, hoping to capture some trace evidence of the rogue, but no luck. Olivia hoped there would be something to help her, but there was nothing here but stale blood and desperation—mostly her own.