CONTENTS
Dedication
Legal
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Epilogue
Author Notes - Michael Anderle
Author Notes - Ell Leigh Clarke
Social Links
Series List
DEDICATION
To Family, Friends and
Those Who Love
To Read.
May We All Enjoy Grace
To Live The Life We Are
Called.
Darkest Before The Dawn
The Second Dark Ages 03
Beta Editor / Readers
Bree Buras (Aussie Awesomeness)
Tom Dickerson (The man)
S Forbes (oh yeah!)
Dorene Johnson (US Navy (Ret) & DD)
Dorothy Lloyd (Teach you to ask…Teacher!)
Diane Velasquez (Chinchilla lady & DD)
JIT Beta Readers
Erika Daly
James Caplan
Joshua Ahles
Keith Verret
Kelly ODonnell
Kimberly Boyer
Micky Cocker
Mike Pendergrass
Paul Westman
Peter Manis
Sherry Foster
If I missed anyone, please let me know!
Editors
Stephen Russell
Lynn Stiegler
Darkest Before The Dawn (this book) is a work of fiction.
All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.
Copyright © 2017 Michael T. Anderle and Ell Leigh Clarke
Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing
LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
LMBPN Publishing
PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy
Las Vegas, NV 89109
First US edition, October 2017
PROLOGUE
The dream was quick, it flitted through his conscious as he slept in a new bed. His mind wandered through a mist, a gray mist seeking his love.
What he had instead was pain.
He survived the pain to leave the mist, falling from nothing to a mountain in the middle of the old United States of America.
He traveled through the states, picking up Jacqueline, the daughter of an old acquaintance and a young male vampire he saved in the City-State of New York.
Traveling across the Atlantic in a blimp, the trio survived attacks by Pirates. There, they met Sabine who had been running from cannibalistic Were’s through the night. Finally, they and other friends fought off massive packs of Were’s in the old country of France.
Yuko, Eve, Mark and Jacqueline went back to Japan – helping the local police fend off an attack while Michael and Akio escaped an effort by the Duke to kill them under the remains of Notre Dame.
Now, Michael is focused on finding and killing William hopefully in the most painful way possible.
CHAPTER ONE
Frankfurt, Germany
Captain Miles O’Banion nodded to the agent and accepted the documents that allowed him to moor his ship to the large tower. The Antigrav Ship Michael the ArchAngel Returns was a solid vessel, and he was damned pleased to be able to keep her.
Looking around the offices, he had to admit the Germans had pulled together after the WWDE. They had worked to restore their city, and now they had moved it into the future as well.
He was a bit jealous.
Captain O’Banion left the large stone building which had been built hundreds of years before WWDE, and he squinted when the sunlight hit his eyes. The last few rays slowly disappeared as the sun sank below the buildings across the square.
He turned right and started walking. His crew was enjoying a bit of a night on the town. They had made it through the weather, a day-walking vampire, a vampire that had been a legend before the real legend had shown up, and now they knew there was a job for them in a couple of days. He had been able to procure cargo to take with them to England.
Life, he thought to himself, was finally looking up. There were no Nosferatu in his hold, no Forsaken around his ship, and—so far—no Duke around the corner ready to rip his entrails out of his body and shove them into his mouth.
Those rather grim thoughts kept his mind occupied until he spied the name of the bar that had been suggested to him earlier.
The two old oak doors were stained so dark a brown that they looked black. He grasped the copper handle and pulled the right door open, then stepped into the decently lit bar. There were at least fifteen tables in the middle of the floor, about eight obligatory personal booths for more private conversations on the wall to his left, and the holiest of holies—the fifteen-foot-long bar with its ten stools. Only two were occupied.
Captain O’Banion walked over to it, nodding to the barkeep as he grabbed a stool and sat. “Rye, if you have it.”
The tall barkeeper nodded and turned to the shelves to take down a bottle of liquid whose unique brown color came from aging in wooden casks. He grabbed a clean drinking glass, walked over to Captain O’Banion, and set the glass down. Placing the neck of the bottle on the edge, he asked “Half or full?”
“Better give me half.” Captain O’Banion sighed, then chuckled as he reached for the glass. “I don’t have to be anywhere, but if a call comes in, I can’t be worrying about slurring my orders.” He lifted the half-filled glass to the barkeeper, who grabbed the change the captain had laid on the bar. “To living beyond our wildest hopes.”
The barkeeper raised an eyebrow, taking in the man in front of him. The captain certainly wasn’t well dressed, so he wasn’t speaking about money. “Rough time?” he asked. The captain sipped his rye and nodded. “Weather or pirates?”
The captain put out the pinky on the hand holding the glass. “Very bad weather,” he told the barkeeper, and then put out the finger next to his pinky, holding the glass with his thumb and first two fingers. “Pirates,” he added a finger, and the barkeeper frowned. “And vampires.”
He took a sip of the rye, then realized he couldn’t release any more fingers without dropping his glass as he completed enumerating his challenges. “Oh, and Weres. It was damned scary.”
The barkeeper looked down the bar to the two guys drinking and talking before throwing a rag on the bar in front of Captain O’Banion. “Vampires?”
The captain nodded.
“Y
ou from the Michael the ArchAngel Returns?” he asked, his voice low—damned near a whisper. The captain nodded once more. “I heard someone in here last night with the latest news of what ships were arriving. Said your ship was one of those that went west across the Atlantic for the Duke?”
Captain O’Banion grimaced. He hadn’t chosen to be a captain for the Duke, but life was like that. One minute you were minding your own business, the next they shanghaied your ass, placed Nosferatu in your hold, added some vampires to keep them in line, threatened to kill you if you disobey orders, and shipped you to America. “I am the captain of the Michael the ArchAngel Returns.”
“You interested in making some money?” the barman asked. O’Banion eyed him, and the bartender shook his head and put up two hands. “It isn’t illegal. Some people wanted confirmation on the name of your ship.” He looked around the bar, keeping his voice low. “There is a lot of speculation. The people,” he pointed to the captain and then back to himself, “who can confirm the information without any doubt will get a nice payday.”
“Oh.” The captain tossed his drink back and then lowered the glass, dropping it on the bar. It made a solid whump when it hit. “I can do that.”
“Word is out that there are some people who want to know if that ship belongs to a vampire.”
“It did, and it still does, sort of.” Captain O’Banion temporized, “Truth is, it belonged to the Duke. Another vampire named Michael took it over, had me change the name, and gave it to me so long as I stopped here first.”
The barkeeper’s eyes gleamed in delight. “Michael? He said his name was Michael?”
The captain nodded. “Since we are sharing information, what is the amount?” he asked the barkeep.
“Over three hundred for quality information, four hundred if you can give them assurance, and a thousand for solid proof.” He picked up the glass and placed it on a tray under the bar. The glass clinked against some other dirty glasses down there. “That’s why I’m willing to share. Half of a thousand is more than the full amount for just assurance.”
“You’d likely just get the three hundred for quality information. They would give me the thousand for proof.”
Captain O’Banion considered Michael’s last words before giving a mental shrug and saying, “I’ll go for the thousand, but we have to talk about your cut before I do this.”
“How are you going to confirm?”
The captain reached up and scratched his forehead above his left eyebrow. “I’ve got the images to prove it,” he replied.
“Pictures?”
He nodded and smiled. “We captured footage those first few hours.” He looked at the barman. “With permission, of course.”
“When can they see them?”
“How about noon tomorrow?” he replied. “That will give us time to make the ship ready for visitors. If they give me until the day after, I’ll have better video they can take with them.”
“You going to charge them for the extra video?”
“Nah, they can just take it raw if they want. I’m not going to piss anyone off. They made offers, so I’m taking them up on what they want and not trying to jerk them around.”
Captain O’Banion pushed against the bar, slid off the bar stool, and eyed the barkeeper, hoping his warning was getting through the man’s avarice. “Greed never works. Take the big score that just walked into your hands and be happy.”
With that, he gave the man a nod and walked back to his ship. He hoped Amanda and Arnold were still on the ship, then at least he wouldn’t be lonely when he locked the doors and made sure no one tried to climb aboard without permission.
It seemed like Michael had gotten what he was looking for, which was attention when Miles got to port.
Unfortunately, the captain wasn’t sure it was the kind of attention the old vampire had been looking for.
Three Days Later
Michael took a sip of the drink in his hand as he and Akio sat in the old café looking at the city’s skyline in the evening light. He made a face. “Gahh!” He put down the small cup. “This is making me wish for Starbucks, and that is saying something,” he admitted as he looked around the city block.
Akio just smirked and took a sip of his tea. He had plenty of leaves from Japan with him and had purchased some hot water to steep it in.
Both men flitted their minds from person to person, trying to catch anyone thinking about the Duke. Unfortunately, those thoughts had been pretty sparse. Their best plan wasn’t working worth a damn.
“You would think,” Michael continued, leaving the cup of burnt-bean-flavored water on the table, “that a scary bloodsucking man would have more than absolutely no one worried about him.”
“He has been,” Akio answered, sipping his tea and bringing his thoughts back to Michael, “annoyingly intelligent about his proclivities.”
Michael turned back to Akio. “Damn large words, Akio.”
“Hai, Michael-san. Need me to provide a few words with less syllables?”
Michael pursed his lips. “Good test. I didn’t even consider hurting you at all.” He shrugged. “Since he’s a genocidal megalomaniacal bastard, I thought for sure we would have an easy time finding a hint of where he is.”
Akio stayed quiet.
Michael reached for the cup as he thought and brought it toward his mouth. Stopping mid-lift, his eyes opened in alarm, and he leaned forward to set it down on the far side of the table. “That was too close,” he mumbled. “Thank God for alien-enhanced olfactory senses.” Michael resumed his previous commentary. “Seven syllables, one word. Beat that.”
Akio’s lips pressed together, then he slowly grinned as he shook his head. When he noticed Michael smirking like a mischievous boy across the table from him, he started chuckling. “Can I use Japanese?”
“Hell, no,” Michael responded. “I never learned your language, so you could say something, and I’d never know it wasn’t seven words all strung together.”
“You’re suggesting I would cheat?” Akio raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t get your honor in a twist, Akio,” Michael responded, waving his hand. “I’ve been down that path, and it doesn’t end up in a good place. You need to allow the simple comments to float over you.”
Akio took a sip of his tea. “You happened to find a good woman at the end.”
Michael grunted. “Took a thousand years,” he whispered. His head started tracking to his left and Akio’s head turned to the right as they both caught the thoughts of an older man. He was well dressed and had just roughly pushed another person out of his way as he mumbled under his breath. His mind was a jumble of anger, hostility, and fear.
Both men caught the face that caused the man’s emotions.
Michael stood up and threw a small tip on the table for those who would clean it, and the two stepped out of the café into the darkness.
One second they were in the dark, the next second neither men could be seen at all.
CHAPTER TWO
Nagoya, Japan
“I just have a few errands to run,” Yuko explained to Jacqueline and Mark as they finished breakfast in a local greasy spoon.
Jacqueline shrugged. “Ok. Suits me fine. I’d be happy to have a look around.”
Mark peered over his coffee cup as Yuko looked to him for his agreement. “Yeah. I’m in,” he confirmed.
“Ok,” Yuko said. “Eve will be with you. And in fact, she has a number of places in mind that she thinks you’ll enjoy.”
Eve grinned cheekily across the little breakfast table. “I’ll show you some of my favorite places in Nagoya. I’m sure you’ll like them too.”
Jacqueline was warming to the idea. “It will certainly be nice to do some things for fun, not for training or survival.” She placed her teacup in its saucer. “I can’t remember a time when I could just have fun,” she said, her voice distant as if reliving her traumatic history. “Maybe when I was little.”
She felt Mark’s hand land
gently on her leg under the table. It was comforting. Even though he still didn’t know the half of what she had been through, he did know that Michael had rescued her from a pretty abusive situation in the wilderness. Now it was Mark’s job to keep her safe.
She placed her hand over his and their fingers magically interlocked.
“Ok, so it’s settled then,” Yuko said brightly, a strange excitement laced into her voice. Eve picked up on the difference in tone, but said nothing.
When they were finished eating, and Jacqueline had cleared up any meat products remaining on Yuko’s and Mark’s plates, they paid their check and headed back to the container.
Within half an hour Yuko was depositing them in a side street in the downtown area.
“Keep your wits about you,” she warned as the three stepped into the street. “It’s relatively safe here, but this area gets a lot of tourists, and with tourists come opportunists.” She glanced at Mark. “We don’t want anyone Were-ing out on some unsuspecting pickpocket because that would alert people to our presence here. Right?”
Mark nodded seriously, only to have his interaction with Yuko interrupted by a sharp slap across his body as Jacqueline swiped at him. “Hey!” she called indignantly. “Standing right here!”
Yuko smiled at her and shrugged as if to say, “Case in point.”
Jacqueline pulled her jacket around her tighter and crossed her arms. “I can control myself,” she grumbled, a little less convincingly than she had hoped.
“Ok,” Yuko called as she headed back into the box. “You have fun! I’ll let Eve know when I’m heading back to get you.”
Mark, Jacqueline, and Eve waved as Yuko disappeared and the door closed.
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