Fanghunters (Book 4): The Claw Order

by Leo Romero

  “Who says he ever intended to unite with her?” Vasquez asked. “Maybe that was his plan all along.”

  Don Julio shrugged. “Who says he even was el Sanguinario?”

  “And where is he now?” asked Emilio.

  “What of the Unholy Brotherhood?” asked Don Ramirez.

  “What of us!” Vasquez countered.

  César showed them her palms once more. “I cannot answer all of these questions right now.” She rubbed her head. The same questions were racing around her own mind, didn’t these fools realize that? She wasn’t expecting this either. She’d been expecting victory; to conquer the north. Not to fail miserably. It was never an option; she put her faith in the Unholy Mother. The Unholy Brotherhood said they’d found el Sanguinario and they were taking him to be untied with Magdalena. If the prophecy proved correct, el Sanguinario’s blood would be diseased enough to withstand Magdalena’s curse and they would form an unholy bond. Magdalena could finally be released and the two would unleash the Chaos across the world. Coupled with their storm on the Blood Order HQ, César had been convinced their time had finally arrived. How wrong she’d been. And how wrong those Unholy Brotherhood assholes had been.

  She thumped the table in anger.

  As she did, one of her servants entered the room. “Mama,” he said into her ear.

  César flinched. ‘What is it?” came her tetchy response.

  “A call has come in from Europe.”

  César frowned. “Europe?”

  The guy gave César a sincere stare.

  “Okay, we’ll take it in here.” César snatched up her remote and flicked on the screen attached to the wall. A face appeared. A diminutive, but cunning visage. It beamed at them through the screen with the malevolence of an evil genie; a trickster. Knowing, astute.

  “Ah, the Inner Circle of the Chaos Order, or what was once the Chaos Order,” the face said with a sly grin spread across his small, bony face.

  César growled beneath her breath. “Benedict!”

  “Don César. Greetings from Europe. How’s the weather down there? Rather chilly here.”

  “We’re fine,” Julio answered.

  “Not according to the evening news you’re not,” Benedict countered. “Earthquakes have torn your country in two. Something bad happen along the Amazon?”

  Julio glared down at the table, his hands curled into fists.

  Benedict continued to stare at them all with his sly, narrowed eyes. “Everybody is present, that’s good to see. Now, ladies and gentlemen. My sister is dead. I have it on very good authority.”

  The Inner Circle vampires began giving one another uneasy glances.

  “She has joined my brother Leviah in succumbing to her fate. The Dragon Order have set in motion an operation to obfuscate the truth surrounding what happened. This will ensure your survival... for now.”

  “And why should we rely on you?” Emilio sneered.

  “Because the vampire agent you sent to Chicago is also dead.”

  The dons began fidgeting in their seats. “Brother Ramon,” Ramirez whispered.

  Benedict leaned into the camera, his eyes glimmering with arrogance. “You will all soon follow. However, I offer an olive branch. Vampire to vampire. Join the Dragon Order and your lives will be spared.”

  One or two dons began conferring. César eyed them with contempt. She focused back on Benedict’s image.

  “There is a storm brewing in the East,” Benedict continued, “You will be crushed by it unless you join us. Not only do we offer protection, but we will allow you to continue your operations, but they will be in our favor. No bargains, no negotiations, those are the bare facts. Now, what say you?”

  Vasquez turned to Julio sitting next to him. “I don’t think we have a choice.”

  Julio met César’s stare; he turned his mouth down and shook his head at her.

  The other dons all began whispering to one another, engaged in fervent discussion. After a few seconds, the vote was unanimous.

  César looked up at Benedict once more. “Okay, we join!” she said with a grin.

  Benedict sat back in his seat and interlocked his fingers. “Well, that was rather painless, wasn’t it?”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Dom slept heavy and undisturbed. When he woke up, it was night time; rain was hitting the window in a steady rhythm. He checked the clock by his bed. 5:36 am. He flopped back on his pillows, his head and body like lead. He had no idea what day it was or how long he’d been sleeping. After days out on the road, sleeping in alien locations and hot climates, his bed was a luxury.

  With a yawn, he rubbed his eyes. Although he was groggy, he was refreshed. A good bout of sleep in a cool climate was exactly what he needed. He got out of bed and when he stretched, his legs and back ached.

  Man, I feel like I’m seventy-five years old, he thought to himself as he arched his back, sudden images of crawling through mineshafts being chased by spikes bombarding his mind. He gave himself a wry grin. Yeah, that must have been where the back ache came from.

  Dude, did that actually happen? I mean did I actually crawl through an ancient Mayan temple loaded with booby-traps and face off with the ugliest vampire the world has ever seen?

  “I do believe I did,” he said to the darkness with a brief chuckle. He shivered at the thought. How close had he been to becoming a permanent fixture in that temple? It all seemed unreal, like a movie he’d just been to see. “Jeez, I’m living on the edge, here. James Bond eat yer heart out.”

  He threw on a shirt and jeans and staggered out onto the landing. Sitting at the far end was a security guard; he was slumped on his chair, snoozing.

  “So much for security,” Dom said to himself as he turned away and headed downstairs. He winced as he took each step, his feet and legs still tender.

  Standing by the front door was Ralph; he was wide awake. Dom threw him a nod. “Hey, Ralph.”

  “Hey, Dom.”

  “Still raining?”

  “Still raining.”

  “Wake me up when it stops,” Dom said with a yawn as he left Ralph behind to head to the kitchen. On his way he passed the back entrance. The broken windows had been boarded over and the shattered glass removed from the floor. The rain pattered against the boards, every now and then intensifying as the wind blew it toward them.

  Man, when’s this rain gonna stop?

  His stomach growled and he grabbed it, realizing just how starving he was. On entering the kitchen, he went straight to the refrigerator and pulled out the ham, cheese, and pickles. He took them to the counter, grabbed a loaf of bread, and got to work stacking up a sandwich Scooby Doo would drool over.

  He flicked on the kitchen TV for some background noise. Chicago True News Network came on. At first Dom groaned (is every TV in this place tuned into this goddamn station?) but, once he heard and saw what they were talking about, he stopped and watched, turning the volume up.

  “Vast swathes of the Amazon have become crisscrossed with giant fissures in an unprecedented wave of earthquakes,” the voice-over informed the watching public. They were showing images from a Brazilian news network helicopter of flooded rivers and giant cracks in the ground like torn curtains. Other parts of the Amazon forest had been torn apart; trees had fallen left and right. Dom’s jaw dropped at the devastation. “Man, I was just there,” he said, pointing at the TV. He let out an absent laugh, unable to believe the fact. They cut back to the studio and that infobabe Dom always thought was hot. What was her name again?

  “John, do the authorities have any idea why this is happening?”

  “Well, Janice...”

  Dom’s eyes lit up. Oh yeah, Janice. How could I forget?

  “Scientists are stating categorically that the quakes are being caused predominantly by climate change and the effects of an increase in C02 emissions over the last fifty years.”

  Dom frowned in confusion.

  “The Amazon is the first casualty of man-made climate change and sc
ientists aren’t optimistic on the outlook. They say that if C02 isn’t curbed within the next few months, then we can see the quakes affecting Brazil spreading to the rest of the Americas and then across the entire globe!”

  “Oh no, that really is bad news, John. So, what can be done for the people of the affected areas?”

  “Well, Janice, Ambrosia—the new wonder drug—has already been sent to both the affected areas and the surrounding areas, and even the surrounding countries just in case the quakes spread there! You know, Janice, Ambrosia really is a wonder drug. It literally has a myriad of uses.”

  “And in the case of the earthquakes, how is it used?”

  “Well, the natives in the earthquake-riddled areas of Brazil are already suffering from diseases such as cholera from the sudden loss of clean water. Ambrosia will bless them with fybosponge, which will protect them from these diseases.”

  “Remind everyone what fybosponge is, John.”

  “Fybosponge is a natural by-product of Ambrosia inoculation. It protects the major organs; the brain, the lungs, the heart etcetera in a protective sponge which acts as a buffer for disease and other nasties that may affect our organs adversely. It is a good preventer of cancer also.”

  “So it’s a win-win.”

  “Absolutely, Janice,” he said with a grin.

  Janice looked into the camera with her big blue eyes. “Isn’t that great news, America? Ambrosia is saving lives as we speak.”

  “That’s right, Janice. And that’s why authorities say it’s vital that anyone within a thousand miles of the quake epicenter is inoculated with Ambrosia in preparation for the effects of man-made climate change.”

  “Super stuff, John. And what about Chicagoans and Americans in general? How can they best prepare themselves and protect their families from any possible, likely, probable, maybe-or-maybe-not-happening-any-time-soon events like earthquakes and volcanic eruptions and meteor strikes and extinction level events?”

  “Well, we all know the answer to that, Janice. Ambrosia! Everyone who’s taken their shots is reporting a significant boost in their health, especially following a snake attack.”

  “That’s right. Wake up, America. Ambrosia is the way to go. Now, the weather.”

  The camera panned to the weatherman. “Well, Janice, it’s still raining.”

  Dom stared at the kitchen wall, nonplussed. Nothing about that brief segment on the news made any sense. The truth was a centuries old cult had locked a powerful vampire in the basement of an ancient Mayan temple filled with traps, and a strong, heroic guy from Chicago successfully evaded those traps and killed the vampire, whose destruction caused some kind of spiritual imbalance in the universe, triggering off a spate of earthquakes.

  Dom shrugged and took a big bite of his sandwich. At least the truth made more sense.

  “Ah, Dominic!”

  Dom spun around, sandwich hanging out of his mouth. “Vincent!” he blurted, spitting half-chewed bread all over the floor.

  “Good to see you up.”

  Dom swallowed a half-chewed lump of sandwich. “Vincent, it’s not even 6 am. Do you ever sleep?”

  Vincent grinned. “Only when I need to. You however, have been asleep for almost half a day.”

  “Half a day?” Dom echoed in mild disbelief.

  “Indeed. Tired were we?”

  Dom cocked his head to the side. “A little.”

  Vincent rubbed his hands. “Well, rest up, young man, because we have plenty of work to do.”

  “Oh, man, already?” Dom groaned. “Can’t I have a vacation first?”

  “Certainly not! Not when the world is in so much turmoil and needs our assistance.”

  “I know, I know. Man-made climate change. Pass me the Ambrosia.” Dom nodded his head at the TV as he spoke.

  “Oh, I know. Some of the tripe that comes out of that news network is insufferable at the best of times. They’re actually saying the Navy SEALS took down the Tijuana drug cartel.”

  Dom’s back straightened. “What a load of BS!” he exclaimed, spraying sandwich everywhere. “That was us who took down Los Verdugos, not the SEALS!”

  Vincent gave him a knowing nod. “There’s nothing worse than someone else taking the credit for your hard work, is there?”

  “No there definitely is not,” Dom said in a glum voice, tearing off a piece of sandwich with his teeth. “Not when it’s your ass on the line!”

  Vincent went and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Well, get used to it! Now, eat up and get ready. Me, you, and Trixie need to have a meeting.”

  “A meeting? About what?”

  “Our next move. A plan of action.”

  Dom grabbed his head. “Oh, man.”

  “Do stop moaning, Dominic. Duty calls. We are in precarious times. Needs must.” He let out a sigh. “I actually can’t believe how fast things are moving. I always knew there’d be a tipping point and things would descend into chaos, but I never imagined it would all unravel this swiftly.”

  “Glad you’re enjoying it,” Dom said and tore another piece of sandwich away; he chewed monotonously like a cow munching cud, forever staring at the crap on the TV with depressed eyes.

  “You should be enjoying it too, young man. You are a part of history, even if CTNN won’t acknowledge it.” Vincent pointed at him. “Remember: may you live in interesting times. And indeed we are!”

  Vincent gave him another clap on the shoulder before he turned and strode out of the kitchen with the buoyancy of a child who’d just cracked how to swim.

  Dom remained where he was, the thought of going on another adventure so soon after the last sending ripples of depression coursing through him. He threw the remainder of his sandwich down on the plate. He wasn’t hungry any more.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The rain was still hitting the window as Vincent commenced the meeting he’d arranged. He marched into the room, back straight like a sergeant major, files in hand. Trixie and Dom were already waiting for him, sitting on opposite sides of the conference table. Dom had a bottle of Bud in front of him, Trixie a grapefruit juice. Dom knew he looked as rough and tired as he felt. On the other hand, Trixie looked as fresh as this morning’s milk, like she was ready to go back to Brazil and do it all over again. The thought made Dom want to die.

  “Ah, you’re both already here, that’s good to see,” Vincent declared as he threw his files down on the surface of the table; they hit it with a slap.

  “I guess we’re just too keen,” Dom said, stretching his arms and legs. Trixie placed her palms down on the table, sitting with grace and elegance. Dom was slouched in his seat like he’d just polished off a six pack.

  “So, what’s the plan, Vince?” Dom asked, putting his feet up on the table.

  “To eliminate the vampire threat to all humanity. I thought you would’ve gathered that by now.”

  Trixie smirked.

  Dom noticed it. He glanced from her to Vincent. “Cute.” He sat properly in his chair and leaned forward. “I meant the immediate plan.”

  Vincent didn’t respond. Instead, he placed a rolled-up velvet cloth down on the table. He unfurled it, revealing what was inside. Dom’s blood ran cold. The Eye of Moroz sat there alongside his Fangs. Dom stared at the relics with despondent eyes. “Thanks for that, Vince,” he said, “I was trying my best to forget about those things.”

  “On the contrary, Dominic, we must never forget until our task is complete. Believe it or not, I’m actually extremely proud to be in possession of these items. And proud of you both for having the strength and courage to retrieve them. Many before you have tried and failed.” Vincent dropped his gaze down on the relics and released a contented sigh. From the files he brought with him, he plucked a folded up piece of paper and opened it up. On laying it down on the table, Dom saw it was a map of the world, divided up into colored sections.

  Vincent grabbed a marker pen and popped off the cap. “Now,” he began, “thanks to you both, the Blood Order is no more.�
� He crossed out the word ‘BLOOD’ written over the US and Canada, which were colored red. “Also, the Chaos Order has been defeated,” he added, crossing off the word CHAOS written over the green South and Central American areas.

  “That’s great, Vince,” Dom said. “So, what is this here? A game of Risk?”

  “Kind of. Strategy. We must plan our next moves. With the acquisition of these relics, we are major players in this game.”

  “Yeah, yeah, you told us before, Vince. So, where to this time? Timbuktu?”

  “I’ve always wondered where that is,” Vincent said, meeting Dom’s stare.

  “It’s in Nebraska,” Dom answered.

  “Really?” Vincent gasped with wide-eyed wonder. “Fascinating...”

  Dom turned his head Trixie’s way; she was sitting back in her seat, arms crossed, her dagger stare on.

  “What?” Dom asked her, hands out to the sides.

  Trixie just shook her head. “Carry on, Dad,” she said, her stare still on Dom.

  “Now, three orders remain,” Vincent continued. “The Claw Order, the Fang Order, and the Dragon Order.” Vincent spread his hand over the map, revealing the word FANG written over the blue Asiatic areas, DRAGON over brown Europe and Australasia, and CLAW over the yellow Middle-East and Africa. “Now, as far as we know, the Dragons have taken over the I-Sore Tower after a successful battle with the Chaos Order.” Vincent wrote the word DRAGON beneath the crossed out BLOOD.

  “You spelled ‘dragon’ wrong, Vince,” said Dom.

  “Really?” Vincent replied with a frown, studiously checking his writing.

  “No, I’m only kidding,” Dom said with a grin.

  “Dom...” Trixie said in a peeved voice.

  Dom turned to look at her; her head was cocked to the side. Her facial expression said ‘unamused’.

  “Be serious will you!” she ordered.

  Dom gave her a look of faux surprise; he puckered his lips into a kiss.

  Trixie rolled her eyes and looked away.

  Dom grinned to himself.