Haven nodded, face serious. Then he pulled out his phone. “This is a burner phone. I use several to keep in contact with my informants. The Sanguine Council does not have access to it, or I would be dead right now. We all would be. They don’t want to get involved with the Conclave, and information like I’m about to show you would start war no matter what anyone wanted.”
He held out the phone to me and Roland approached on leaden feet, as if shackled.
A grainy black and white video began to play, and I watched in breathless horror as I saw an older man walking down a dark alley with two familiar women. The wolves we had saved. They were apparently joking back and forth, the two women dancing around him playfully. Like a rich John and his two paid escorts for the evening.
A figure in black with a lighter scarf over his lower face and down his chest darted into the picture, swifter than possible and kicked one of the wolves in the chest. She flew into a dumpster, before collapsing to the ground. The figure had already punched the other wolf in the face and body three times, dropping her to her ass on the pavement. They stumbled to their feet, their clothes exploding like confetti as they shifted into their wolf forms, the pain instantly igniting their instincts.
A ball of fire erupted in the Shepherd’s hands and flew at the attacker, hitting him directly in the chest despite his crossed hands before him. But…
The fire flew right through him, erupting out the other side and crashing into a building. The dark figure froze for a moment as if surprised. Then he darted in closer to the Shepherd, and sliced his throat savagely with what looked like his bare hands, decapitating him in an instant before the Shepherd had time to react to his failed magic.
The assassin made short work of the wolves, as if he were fighting toddlers, leaving them unconscious on the ground beside the dead Shepherd. I caught a flash of the cross on the scarf concealing his face before he slipped out of the frame.
The video cut off and Haven slowly lowered it.
“The Conclave mentioned witnesses,” Roland said, eyes thoughtful.
Haven shrugged. “That could help.” Roland’s grimace let him know it didn’t. “I… see.”
“Do you recognize the scarf?” I asked Roland instead. These ‘witnesses’ hadn’t stopped the Conclave from condemning the wolves, which smelled fishy. Someone was definitely playing a game with the Conclave. Haven was right.
He scratched his cheek before finally shrugging. “Italy is full of religious factions wearing modified crosses. I can list two dozen groups that don crucifixes of some kind, but nothing stands out. It’s not clear enough to see details of what kind of cross he or she wore.”
“What the hell kind of man is immune to magic?” I whispered out loud.
I looked up to see tears streaking down Roland’s face, his eyes a million miles away.
“I do not know what he is, or how he did it, or who he is working with. But you just saw one of your most legendary Shepherds and two werewolves taken out in less than a minute with what seemed like no effort on the assassin’s part.” Haven let that sink in, his voice neutral, as if not wanting to provoke Roland into anger. “That is what you face in Rome. What the wolves face. Well, I have no doubt they will face a different execution, but my point remains. Someone very powerful is playing a very dangerous game in one of the Holiest houses in the world.”
I nodded numbly, realizing that things had just gotten a whole lot worse. “We have to try, Roland. If they took out your mentor, the others don’t stand a chance. Who knows what their ultimate plan is…” I realized the futility of the situation. We were going to be surrounded by the strongest of the strong, and one of them was secretly a traitor. Everything we did would be observed – both by Shepherds just doing their jobs, and by a killer hiding in plain sight. I didn’t stand a chance on my own. I couldn’t just waltz in treating everyone like a criminal or they would lock me up. I had to have Roland.
Roland nodded stiffly, eyes lifting to Haven. He grimaced in disgust, but it was likely a result of knowing that very soon he would be just like Haven. A blood-sucking vampire. “How would this work?” he rasped.
“I will bite you in front of three witnesses and Callie. We will record it for proof. We will all need to say something to the effect of agreeing with the terms. Especially you, Roland. Then we send it off to our superiors.” He sensed our trepidation, but held up a hand. “The recording is mandatory to cover ourselves. Word will spread regardless, and we would all benefit from transparency, so that no one gets trigger happy later.” I growled to myself. He was right. If he was being watched, we had to be very careful. We might not even get a chance to try if the Conclave learned of this development too soon. “I’ll try to keep a lid on it as long as possible, but word will travel fast. The good thing about my people is that immortality has made them somewhat lazy. Well, not as concerned with urgency,” he clarified.
I frowned. “Then why don’t we wait to turn Roland until after we save the wolves and find the real killer?” I asked, hoping against hope.
Haven and Roland were both shaking their heads. The Shepherd answered first. “If he waits, you can guarantee his Sanguine Council spies will rediscover their sense of urgency. Also, if we fail and I die without making up for my transgression with Haven, there will be war when the Sanguine Council demands payment. Especially when I would have also wronged the Vatican at that point by not immediately telling them. You can bet that if the real killer is in a position of power that he will make sure to agree with the Sanguine Council’s demands for blood. To further shatter the Conclave.” His eyes grew distant. “I wouldn’t be surprised if that isn’t the killer’s long-term plan. To sow seeds of confusion. Discord. One Shepherd murdered by werewolves, another turned to a vampire and ‘attacking’ the Vatican…” he shook his head in disgust. “I need to be turned. Now. And we need to get to the Vatican immediately, before they hear what I’ve done. We need to not only find the murderer, but find him before anyone hears about me turning cloak, or our game will be up before we know it. At best, they will lock us up in a cell.”
I punched a fist into my palm. “Before you argue, I’m going,” I warned him. Roland didn’t even bother to argue, so wrapped up in his concern for the wolves. But he did smile.
“New vampires are uncontrollable! Bloodlust rules them. They will know something is wrong. Not even counting the fact that as a vampire, I’m going to have one hell of a time spending a few days in the Vatican, surrounded by Holy objects,” he pressed.
Haven cleared his throat. “I can help with that. I have an amulet that will both mask your powers and help with the Holy objects issue. But beware as your body begins to change. You end up flashing fangs or running too fast in front of the wrong person, and your gig will be up,” he warned. “We can provide you with enough of our untraceable blood bags that you never get hungry. You will need to drink even when you don’t feel thirsty. These blood bags will curb some of the effects for a time. But it will be temporary. You will need to feast on living blood at some point within the first few days. Or the body will reject the gifts and you will die. Or you will lose control. Staying… hydrated will prolong that first real shift,” he said, emphasizing real. “This will simply trick the body into thinking it’s okay, slowing down the need for fresh blood.” He held up a finger in warning. “But I must reiterate. You will have to murder someone. Soon. Within days. And drink their blood. Or you will turn savage and there will be no saving you. The monster will erase all that is Roland.”
“Monster,” Roland muttered angrily, beginning to pace.
“Once you’ve taken your first life, you can continue with the donated blood if you prefer. Or hunt animals. But the first time is different. Your monster will force your body to take a life and devour the blood. After that is up to you. Tricking it with blood bags will only last so long, and I must remind you that you will need to drink even when you don’t feel thirsty.”
I nodded, watching Roland as he shook his head
. I knew who he had in mind for his first kill as a vampire. The killer. He approached the statue of the weeping angel, and knelt before her. The angel stared down at him with a sad smile as he began to pray. I motioned for Haven to join me beside the car, leaving Roland in peace – for perhaps the last time – with his ties to Heaven.
“Why would you help us?” I asked him. “You’re sending your new vampire to his death.”
He shrugged, leaning back against the car as he studied Roland. “Don’t get me wrong, part of me is ecstatic about turning him. I won’t lie. Proving to him that I am not a monster will benefit both of us in the long run. Aiding him in his cause to fight evil is also in my best interest. Him dying only days after I turn him will look very bad to my superiors, and I can imagine it won’t sit well with the Conclave. I’m ensuring he will kill someone – and remain a vampire – by giving him a target.” I nodded slowly. If we survived. I couldn’t even be mad at Haven. Roland had brought this on himself.
He could always accept execution.
At least this way gave him a chance at life. And vengeance.
“I am at great risk here…” Haven said softly, still watching the Shepherd praying to the angel statue. “Every Master Vampire in the world was commanded to not interfere in this murder. All too easily, this crime could be pinned on us. Cooperation has the penalty of death.”
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” I said sadly.
Haven nodded. “Yes. But the only other option to us is for him to die, which would mean the murderer gets away without facing justice. And I gain nothing,” he admitted with a shrug.
I nodded, unable to prevent the tears streaming down my cheeks as I watched Roland speak to his God for the last time. He finally climbed to his feet, a broken man. He placed a hand on the Angel’s wing for support. He stood motionless for almost a minute before turning to face us.
His face was a mask of vengeance, resolution, retribution.
“Let’s do this. We leave for Rome immediately after.” He glanced at Haven. “Stall as long as you can or all this is for nothing and war will come. To prevent a war, we must risk a war…” he said softly.
Haven nodded. “I think I can help with that,” he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “I have a plan, but we better hurry.”
Chapter 20
The three vampires watched with obvious anticipation after we each stated our names, titles, and agreement in the turning of Roland Haviar to a vampire for his betrayal of trust with the Master Vampire of Kansas City. A guard stood nearby, recording it on Haven’s phone.
Roland stared straight ahead, face expressionless, arm outstretched, because he refused to be bitten on the neck.
Haven approached him confidently, nodded his head at Roland, and then his head darted out to Roland’s forearm and bit down hard. I flinched, my heart ripping in half, but I didn’t cry on the outside. On the inside, I was a ship lost at sea. Whispers drifted on the winds of my mind, salivating at the scene before me, sounding both anticipatory and haunted. I walled them away with a nervous breath. I would figure out my own shit later.
Roland’s eyes tightened in pain, but he withstood it like a statue – penance – the price of his failure, and the cost to do the right thing. Haven lifted his fangs and then raised his own arm. He bit into his wrist and blood immediately splattered on the drive. He locked eyes with Roland and then extended his arm forward. Roland didn’t flinch as he took the wrist and drank his Master’s blood. I knew inside he was a raging tempest of fury, but his fear for the wolves outweighed his disgust. Also, someone had betrayed the Conclave, and that wouldn’t sit well with Roland. He never averted his eyes from Haven, the two staring at each other in a battle of wills. Haven finally nodded.
Roland flung the hand aside and took a deep breath, his eyes flashing crimson. Then he doubled over in pain, clutching at his chest. I gasped in alarm as Roland tore off his shirt, twitching and spasming as if he was being struck with a whip right before my eyes.
He was suddenly bare from the chest up, and I watched in horror as his skin tugged and jerked, pulsing with crimson light. Then I realized what was happening.
Roland’s torso had been liberally scarred with religious text, passages, and scripture. I had never learned why – if it had something to do with being a Shepherd, or some personal choice of his – but that was all changing now. I watched as his flesh healed perfectly smooth, all scars and religious tattoos disappearing in a wash of agony.
Roland grunted and hissed for a good minute as the last of the scars faded from view. Then he took a deep breath and stared at Haven. The Master Vampire looked stunned, apparently not having known about the tattoos, and even more surprised to see Roland’s ability to withstand such obvious torture.
“I was forged by the fires of Heaven,” Roland finally whispered. “Hell will never break me.” These words seemed to hurt him, because he flinched as he spoke. Then I remembered. Vampires had problems talking about God. Yet more physical pain for him to bear, but it had been worth it to him. Another crack of the metaphorical whip.
Haven nodded very slowly, deep respect replacing his surprise. He reached into his pocket absently as he spoke. “Welcome to my fold, Roland Haviar, and Happy Birthday.”
I heard the guard muttering to himself and glanced over a shoulder. He was frowning down at the phone angrily.
Haven cleared his throat and the guard looked up to see a very furious vampire staring at him. “What is wrong, soldier?” he asked in an icy tone.
The guard stammered under that glare. “I-I’m not sure, Master Haven. The phone glitched out and won’t turn back on,” he said, jabbing the screen repeatedly.
Master Haven was on him in a blink, snatching the phone from his hands. He studied the screen, trying to get it working. Then, with a curse, he casually swept his other hand back, slicing the guard’s throat. The guard fell to his knees, a look of surprise on his already dead face. Haven snapped his fingers and the three vampires flinched eagerly, ready to dive into the free meal.
“Stop!” Roland roared. The three vampires spun in surprise, faces suddenly challenging. Roland casually walked closer to the now dead guard and knelt before him. I held my breath, knowing this was all part of the plan, but still horrified by it. Roland cocked his head, smiling at the three vampires. “The new kid is hungry,” he said.
Then his fangs flashed out and he dove into the guard’s neck, drinking greedily. I ignored the slurping sounds – both disgusted at the act itself, but even more so that I was watching my mentor do the one thing he abhorred most in the world.
But Haven’s plan was quite clever. He’d turned on a small device in his pocket that fried the phone in the guard’s hand, eliminating the video, and hopefully buying us more time. But we couldn’t have anyone get suspicious about that, so we had needed a show. Haven had told us that he was confident that this specific guard was one of his watchers, so had wanted to find a way to dispose of him anyway. And him failing with such a momentous recording was grounds for that. This was an historic event… the willful turning of a Shepherd.
If Roland hadn’t wanted to take a drink, the vampires might have started gossiping, questioning the ritual. Roland got to reaffirm his legend as a new vampire, eliminating any doubt for the witnesses. So that when we left in a few minutes, none would think anything amiss. A guard had screwed up the recording and had paid with his life. But they had witnessed the brand-new Shepherd Vampire take his first drink.
Which was about as momentous as an event could get, something they could tell their friends for years, centuries even.
Roland had sounded emotionless as he agreed to the plan, taking his penance more gracefully than I ever could have. But that was just Roland. If turning himself into a monster let him save some lives… well, that was the only acceptable answer. No use whining about it.
Roland finally stood, his neck awash in blood. He held out his hand to the fallen guard as he glanced at the vampires. “I left
plenty for you three.” He tried to take a few steps, but his body began twitching and shaking as the blood hit him.
I waited nervously. This was the part I hadn’t been sure about. We couldn’t risk Roland actually killing someone and turning all the way. If we did, the Vatican would recognize his change in an instant. As it was right now, we hopefully had a few days before all the changes solidified in him. But we had to make sure the guard was dead before Roland drank.
Which was a hell of a guess.
Roland finally straightened with a sigh. Then he flashed a grin at Haven. “That… felt nice,” he finally said. His eyes still looked understandably troubled, so the other vampires wouldn’t think his change too drastic, but they all remembered their first drink as a vampire, and chuckled good naturedly. They approached, patted him on the back, and then quickly scooped up the soldier, carrying him inside.
Roland wouldn’t look at me as Haven approached him. The Master of Kansas City discreetly slipped his new vampire a golden drachma on a thick golden chain. I felt a faint humming in the air and casually swept the area for threats. I didn’t see any danger, so dismissed it as nerves. Or a resonance from the Whispers. I heard Haven murmur under his breath as he gave Roland a congratulatory hug, “I’ll have the blood bags waiting for you at the angel statue in one hour. Just do your magic travel thing to get it without being detected.” Then he held out a hand towards Roland, speaking loud enough for several nearby guards to hear. I spotted a few vampires at some of the windows in the mansion, watching excitedly. “I’m excited to see you after your trip home. Make it quick, though. Too long near mortals will be… difficult for you until you master your new abilities.” Which was an easy explanation for our sudden departure.
Roland nodded sadly. “I want to see them one last time before…”
Whispers: Feathers and Fire Book 3 Page 10