The second floor—which, Alex reminded himself, was actually at street level or just slightly above it—only extended halfway over the ground floor. A metal railing allowed patrons to look down on whatever was going on. More pallets had been arranged along the wall to form alcoves. Alex could see sangers and bleeders in various states of undress engaged in a variety of sexual and vampiric activities.
They continued following the manager, who was now crossing the length of the club again to reach a metal stairway on the far side of the room. Alex didn’t like this at all. To get out, they would have to zigzag their way down through the entire club. Marcus could probably jump it, but he wasn’t sure he could without getting hurt. If they needed to get out in a hurry, it wasn’t going to be pretty.
They crossed an area where several pallets and crates formed a stage. A vampire herded several young women on the far end, while an MC strutted up and down making announcements with a microphone in hand. Vampires sat on either side, and it reminded Alex of some bizarre cross between a fashion show, a strip club, and an auction. He stopped to look.
The man with the microphone called out, “Belarus. Type B, with a fourteen lifestyle. Very choice and not even nineteen.”
Around the improvised stage, several vampires, male and female, held up fluorescent bidding paddles. The girl was pushed farther onto the stage by her handler, and even from this distance, Alex could see she was heavily drugged. He was amazed she was even standing on her feet.
“Keep moving,” a gruff voice ordered behind him. He looked and saw one of the massive vampire bouncers from the ground level. A part of Alex wanted to lash out right then and there and make a run for it. He restrained himself. If this was going to get ugly, he was more ready than they were. He had Marcus on his side, and that was one hell of an ally. He was sure no one in here knew exactly who or what they were dealing with.
At the far end of the floor, Alex caught sight of several men and women who were strapped into raw steel bondage rigs. Several vampires were thrusting heartily into the captive women, while other vampires fed on them and the captive men simultaneously. Alex found it hard to look away.
“Remind you of Rome?” he whispered to Marcus.
“Rome was never like this.” Marcus looked disgusted.
“That bother you?” the bouncer asked.
“What’s to bother? Consenting adults and all that, right?” Alex answered.
The bouncer laughed. “If they were consenting, it wouldn’t be as much fun.”
Alex glared at the bouncer and burned his face into memory. He promised himself that when he killed this one, he was going to enjoy it.
The manager and Marcus had already reached the next stairwell and were waiting for Alex and his new escort to catch up. Alex looked to Marcus for any sign of distress or any intention to change their plans, but Marcus’s face was unreadable. He wore the stern countenance of a centurion prepared for battle.
They climbed the stairs and reached the third level. Unlike the first two levels, this entire floor was enclosed office space sitting over the converted warehouse space of the two lower floors. The manager opened the door, showed them inside, and closed the door behind them.
They stood in a small foyer. Some piped-in classical music served to dampen the techno music outside, but the bass continued thumping its way in. Another large vampire bouncer guarded the one doorway on the opposite side of the room. Alex didn’t pick up the youngblood vibe from him. This was an oldblood.
The manager addressed him. “Yevgeny, please see Master Scaevola inside. He and his assistant are welcome guests.”
He turned to speak to Marcus. “Please excuse me, but I have other matters to attend to.”
Marcus waved him off as if he were an annoying insect. The manager made a diminutive bow and backed out of the room, closing the door behind him. Alex’s bouncer escort positioned himself directly in front of the exit door behind them.
The old vampire opened the door in front of them and revealed a well-lit hallway with a series of doors on either side. He spoke in a thick Russian accent.
“Please, sirs, if you will follow me.”
33
9:20 P.M.
As they stepped into the hallway, the door swung closed behind them. Alex wondered if it was locked. The soundproofing in this area was very good. Alex could barely make out the bass line thumping away beneath them, and the piped-in classical music obscured all the sounds from outside. Ahead, Alex could hear screaming and panting. There was no way to tell if they were sounds of bliss or terror.
The bouncer led them to one of the side rooms and opened the door. Though the lighting was more subdued than the hallway, Alex had no trouble making out the interior. There were two large and lavish couches on either side of the room. A small table with drink coasters sat between the couches. On the walls were large flat-screens with some kind of porn playing on them.
The vampire showed them inside and motioned for them to sit on the couch. They both remained standing. He said something, garbled by his thick Russian accent. Alex couldn’t understand him. It didn’t help that he hardly opened his mouth when he spoke. He walked out of the room and closed the door behind him. After a moment, Alex deciphered the man’s speech, guessing he’d said something along the lines of, “Wait here, someone will come see you.”
Alex’s eyes swept the room. In two opposing corners, he saw the expected and ubiquitous observation cameras. This was more in line with the voyeur that Alex had expected. A closer observation of the couches revealed the telltale stains he knew would be there. He walked over to the door and tentatively tried the knob. To his surprise, it turned freely. They hadn’t locked it. He turned back to Marcus, his brow furrowed.
Marcus looked engrossed in the porn film, but Alex saw his right hand clench into a fist twice. Then he made a “got your nose” fist with his thumb placed between his index and middle finger, then quickly made a fist with his thumb on the inside. It was an old signal, but Alex wasn’t so out of practice he didn’t catch it. He tilted his head to either side as if stretching or cracking his neck by way of a response. Marcus was calling an audible and changing the play at the line of scrimmage. That was fine with Alex. He hadn’t been exactly in love with the way things were going so far.
“Door’s not locked, boss.”
“Why should it be? We are guests.”
“They’re arrogant. They didn’t even search us.”
“They are confident. There is a difference. Besides, they know they are in the wrong here. The lack of respect that they have shown me and the fact that I had to reveal myself to them in person has humbled them. They shall be falling over themselves to please us. You will learn these things the more you learn about our kind. Since you are soon to join our ranks, you must learn that there are rules and etiquette that are not violated lightly. Having an Ancient as an ally and patron is a wonderful thing, but having one as an adversary is an equally terrible thing.”
An ecstatic cry from the woman on the screen interrupted Marcus and drew both of their gazes to the television screens. Now Alex could see that what he had quickly dismissed as a porn film was slightly different. The man was a vampire and he was sinking his fangs into the neck of a human woman. Her hands, clawlike, dug into his back and she had her head thrown back, mouth open in a gasping O. Biceps and thigh muscles strained taut, her toes curled, and her flat belly fluttered. She looked to be in the throes of rapture. Alex had seen this before. The vampire was killing her. This was some kind of vampire snuff film.
He broke from character briefly. “I should have expected this, vampire porn. I mean you don’t think about these things until you actually see them, but I should’ve seen it coming.”
Marcus cleared his throat and Alex tore his attention away from the screen. The door opened and the Russian vampire bouncer, Yevgeny, entered. Alex was shocked to see Lelith, the figurehead spokesperson of the Lightbearer Society herself, follow him into the room.
&nb
sp; Vampire women did nothing for Alex, but even he had to admit that vampirism had been more than kind to Lelith. Though he had seen numerous images of her on magazine covers and on television, seeing her in person was another thing entirely. She wore a tight black evening gown with a deep-cut V that went all the way to her navel. Her red hair wasn’t nearly as vibrant as in the photographs, but it was still stunning, and fell long and straight on either side of the V. It heightened the contrast between the dress and her pale skin. She looked young, in her late twenties or early thirties, but Alex knew better. She had the perfect face and figure for anyone wanting to sell the glamour of all things vampiric.
She had the bloodshot eyes of a vampire who had recently fed. She glanced at Alex, made a grimace, and brought a slender hand to her nose. Their eyes met briefly and Alex gave her the lustful look he knew she was expecting to see.
She addressed Marcus. “Master Scaevola. My apologies for making you wait so long. If you’re enjoying the film, I can make arrangements. That’s a live feed, by the way.”
Marcus began asserting his Ancient presence once more. In the enclosed room, it felt oppressive even to Alex. He raised his voice. “You have all but exhausted my patience. I have grown tired of these delays.”
He whirled to the camera in the corner. “The time has come to cease playing games. Address me in person or I shall depart. When I return, it will not be to your liking.”
Lelith interrupted him. “Master Scaevola, please, we only—”
Marcus whirled on her. He slid across the room so quickly it looked to Alex as if he hadn’t moved but simply stretched from one place to the other. His fangs were out and he snarled. Lelith gave a little yelp, stumbled in her high heels, and fell to her knees cowering and shielding her face from an expected blow. Alex wondered how much of this was still an act. Even Yevgeny looked like he wanted to melt through the door and get out.
“You have mere moments to fetch your master. My wrath is only barely checked.”
Lelith nodded and scrambled to her feet. She headed quickly toward the door, but before she could make it, a sharp knock echoed through the room. Yevgeny jumped out of the door’s way so quickly that Alex wondered if he’d actually experienced pain from it.
Lelith stopped just in front of the door. She threw her hands behind her and thrust one shapely leg slightly forward. She bowed her head and affected an awkward-looking curtsy. Her voice took on the aspect of a medieval herald, and she announced to the room as Yevgeny opened the door, “The Lich King of Admah, the Dread Sovereign Lugal Zagesi!”
As she spoke, the name Admah rang in Alex’s memory like a gong, but he didn’t have time to place it. As she continued to speak, he heard Marcus take a sharp breath and looked toward him.
What he saw made his heart sink like a lead weight. He saw an emotion on Marcus’s face that he had never seen in all their long years of working together.
Fear.
34
Early morning, forty-third day of the Siege of the City of Acre, Kingdom of Jerusalem, eighteenth of May, the Year of Our Lord 1291
The drums started up again. Marcus looked toward the heavens and saw the first rays of dawn stretching their way across the cloud-rippled ocean of the sky.
“Will those infernal drums never cease?” The complaint came from the Master of the Hospital.
The sound of myriad trumpets answered him.
“And now they add trumpets?”
“They do this to unnerve us,” Sir Buchard said. The Teutonic Knight’s accent was harsh and thick.
“Even as we are betrayed by this one.” Buchard kicked a beaten and broken man lying on the ground. Two other men tied ropes to the shackles around his wrists.
The others knew the man on the ground as Guillaume de Rochefort, a Templar of some ill repute. Marcus knew him by his true name, Lugal Zagesi, an Ancient and evil vampire the Order of the Eternal Watch had hunted since its inception almost a thousand years before.
“Bones of the martyr, why do we wait?”
The Master of the Hospital spoke again. “We wait for William of Beaujeu. It must be his decision.”
“Do you not hear their trumpets braying? Al-Ashraf comes and we talk.”
“What would you have us do?”
“Be done with the man, one has but to look at him to know he’s infused with Saracen blood.”
Zagesi tried to say something, but Buchard kicked him for his trouble.
“Be silent, thou false knight. Is it not enough we are undone by your hands?” Buchard drew his sword.
“No!” Marcus shouted, his voice sounding hollow from beneath his helm.
Sir Buchard stayed his hand and appeared to notice him as if for the first time.
“Oh. The Leper speaks. What would you have us do? More talk?”
The Master of the Hospital turned to Marcus. “What counsel, Scaevola? Speak your mind.”
A booming crash interrupted the discussion. The first of the Muslims’ stones were striking the outer wall.
“It would appear our time is limited. What say you?” Buchard said.
“He must be put to inquisition,” Marcus answered. Zagesi knew too much for them to simply kill him. Marcus had to know what the Confraternity of Admah had to do with the Knights Templar. Were the Templars innocent, or was Zagesi’s masquerade as one of them indicative of a deeper corruption within the order?
“More talk? I knew it.” Buchard glared at Marcus. “It turns my blood to see that none of you has the stomach—”
“We strip him,” Marcus interrupted, “leave him with only a cloth to cover his shame, and we hang him from the Accursed Tower.”
“The man is still a Christian and a Knight until William speaks otherwise. I would not see a brother put to such a fate,” the Master of the Hospital said, “even one such as he.”
“I do not mean to kill him, my lord. But to stretch him, hang him by his arms, and when you see the first rays of the sun grace his flesh, you will bear witness that he is the vile creature I have told you of, and a servant of the Enemy.”
Zagesi raged against his captors on the ground, but he was in no condition to fight and the two men holding him rapidly cuffed and beat him into submission.
More stones smashed into the outer wall.
“It appears that Al-Ashraf is eager this morn. Scaevola, see it done. Buchard, with me. Let us see what offerings the Saracen bring us this day.”
The Master of the Hospital left, his entourage and Sir Buchard in tow, leaving Marcus with Zagesi. The two men stripped him, attached the rope bound to his shackles to a pulley, and hoisted him up the wall.
“I know you for what you are, Marcus Scaevola. You are no relation to the Doge. Do not think our affairs are concluded. I shall see each and every Hospitaller put to the sword for your offenses.”
“Rest assured that if I discover any of your false schemes amongst the Templars, I shall have them excommunicated and dispersed, with the full penalties of what that entails.”
“You will learn nothing.” Zagesi raged against his bonds.
The two men hoisted him high up the wall of the tower and secured the rope at the base.
Zagesi growled.
“Perhaps not. But it pleases me to try.”
“Pray that I do not survive.”
Marcus signaled the men to follow him.
“I shall return after the noonday sun has passed and see if its grace has loosened your tongue.”
He made a show of craning his neck at the rapidly brightening sky. “I pray there are not too many clouds to darken your view.”
He intended to keep his appointment, but the city of Acre fell that very day.
35
Thursday, August 12, 9:26 P.M.
Marcus looked completely cowed. All expression of rage, of confidence, had vanished; even his Ancient presence was gone. It looked to Alex as if he might actually bow or kneel to the man who had stridden into the room. Lelith bent down further in her awkward curtsy, an
d Yevgeny stood off to the side, his head deeply bowed.
Alex had a feeling that he was the only one in the room not terrified of the man, but it was probably because he didn’t have any idea what was going on. Then he felt it. The air in the room turned to stone and he knew that the man stepping into the room was the source of the malevolence he’d sensed in the past few days. This was the source of the pervasive evil in the astral ether. Part of him was glad he was finally seeing the man face-to-face.
The man who walked into the room, Lugal Zagesi, wore an elegant tailored designer suit. He looked to be Middle Eastern and was dark-skinned, but not as dark as Alex. His eyes were darkly rimmed and Alex had the feeling he wore guyliner or some kind of other makeup. He held a large metal goblet in one ring-encrusted hand, and wore a smug, arrogant smile that made Alex instantly want to wipe it from his face.
He placed his other hand, also festooned with rings, on top of Lelith’s head.
“Rise.”
Only then did Lelith and Yevgeny take on a normal aspect.
Lugal Zagesi gave Alex a cursory and derisive glance, then turned his attention to Marcus. He spoke as if they were old friends at some kind of reunion.
“Salve Marcus Tarquinius Scaevola … Aeternius? Or have you dropped that affectation? It did not suit you. Gave away too much. You know, I had been meaning to catch up with you. There are so few of us Ancients left and we never talk. You know how it is, things always coming up.”
He turned to Lelith. “Did you know that Marcus was one of the richest men in Aquincum? Oh, but that was long ago. Now look at you, just another common dick. Is that the expression?”
Zagesi took a swig from the goblet, the contents leaving his lips dark crimson. “Oh, there I am being rude again. Would you like some? It is from our own cultivated garden. All young girls from the old country, they still remember why saps should fear vampires. Yevgeny, fetch a goblet for my old rival, will you?”
Yevgeny sped out the door. Marcus still said nothing.
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