The Black Knights

by Matilda Reyes

  I stifled a yawn. I was tired, and the words on the sheet of paper in front of me were blurring together. The coffee had left me anxious and wrung out instead of improving my clarity levels. It wasn’t like I would abdicate responsibility.

  I closed my eyes and leaned back in my seat. “Sure. I will close my eyes for a few minutes.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  I woke up to the sounds of male giggles, shutters, and flashes. My team, minus Esai, stood around me while Hernandez took pictures with his phone. During my nap, which I was suspecting lasted a lot longer than just a few minutes, someone had covered me with a blanket and had arranged a pillow behind my head. I had curled myself around the pillow, pull my legs into my chest, and use the blanket like a hooded cape.

  “I hate you,” I croaked, forcing my eyes to open. “Delete those pictures now.”

  “Nope,” said Jones. “You remind me of my daughter when she sleeps. She’s five.”

  I forced my limbs out of the uncomfortable contortions and yanked the blanket off. Kosuke giggled, pointed his phone at me and snapped another picture.

  “Your hair!”

  My hair, as Kosuke pointed out, stood out at odd angles, as if I’d been electrified. Static. Wonderful. I didn’t even want to think about what my makeup looked like at this point. Grimacing, I made my way toward the restroom in the cabin’s rear and gasped out loud when I saw my reflection. The makeup had held up well enough, but my face was red and wrinkled from where it had pressed into the pillow, and I was sure that there was a drool spot on my shirt. I freshened up as best I could and smoothed back my hair while deciding who I wanted to kill first.

  Mikael. He should have known better, but he was tee-heeing with the rest. He would have to die first. I walked out to find each of them failing to smother their grins and held out my hand.

  “Phones.”

  “Sorry, can’t do it, boss,” said Hernandez. “It’s a longstanding tradition of getting that one embarrassing picture. I have one of each of these guys. Now we have one of you.”

  “Ooh, you’re so lucky that we’re in a combustible tin can. Otherwise, I’d crispy critter you all. How long before I can start with the murdering?”

  “We landed twenty minutes ago,” said Esai.

  “We’re in Amsterdam?” I asked. How had I slept through not one, but two landings?

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Hernandez. “You even slept through our layover at Luton. We’re just waiting for a gate to open so we can get moving. The cars are already here.”

  Would I ever not sleep through a trip? What kind of boss conks out like a toddler on a road trip? Still groggy, I packed up my belongings and shouldered my bag. Mikael, the traitor, had his back while he spoke to Raquel in low tones, his laughter sounding bright and happy amongst the gleeful chortles of the rest of those jerks. Gathering what shreds of dignity remained, I walked toward the front of the cabin and descended the stairs out onto the tarmac. Three small black vans were parked in a semicircle in front of us, each with the driver waiting. The youngest of the three, who had to have been around my age if the smooth skin and lack of a beard were any indication, rushed over and snatched my bags from my hands.

  “No, miss,” he said. “You don’t carry your bags anymore. Not while you stay with the Vespers.”

  “But I’m a Vesper,” I protested.

  “The most powerful, from what I have been told.” He gave me a cheeky grin. “And by far the most beautiful.”

  Like a freaking little girl, I snickered and blushed. “Are you a monk?”

  “I am studying to become an initiate. When I heard members of the Circle would visit, and you especially, I begged to be part of the reception team.”

  “Why?” I asked, my nose wrinkling. “Isn’t it crap duty?”

  He gasped. “Is that a joke? We are far away from the center of everything here. To meet the most famous Vespers is an honor.” Taking my arm, he ushered me into the van. “Please, get comfortable. My name is Bastian.”

  “Jasper,” I said.

  “I know. Please allow me a moment while I help load the belongings into the rest of the vehicles. Will your… Nicholas be joining us?”

  “No. Wait, how do you know Nicholas?”

  “He called ahead to ensure there were proper accommodations. I promised him you had the best room and access to a personal bathroom. The men will all share, but he assures me that is fine.”

  Hating the color that was rising in my cheeks, I forced a smile. I would not lose my cool in front of a stranger, especially one who thought I was the shit. “Thank you, Bastian. Why don’t you help the others? I’ll be fine waiting.”

  Bastian gave me an uncertain smile and ran off to help the others. I liked him. He reminded me of an overeager puppy. He was probably older than me, but he hadn’t grown into his long frame. His feet and hands seemed too big for his body, and his long wavy, brown hair flopped into his eyes like that of a middle-schooler. That smile of his reached from ear to ear, revealing a too-perfect set of teeth, likely the product of long-term braces. He reminded me of a more innocent Mikael. I made a note to spend time with him.

  Nicholas was so dead. He had no right to interfere, let alone make demands on my behalf. His jealousy was stupid. I wasn’t a relationship expert, but I was sure that this level of insecurity should not show up at this point in a relationship. Damn, I wished my sister was still alive. Livie would’ve had great advice. She would have told me how to handle Nick’s paranoia. More than likely, she would have told me to kick his ass and mind control him into behaving. That’s what she’d have done. I couldn’t bring myself to do that. It crossed too many lines of morality and common decency for my taste.

  “You have a fan,” said Mikael as he climbed into the seat next to me. “That one grins like he met the Pope.”

  Bastian jogged back to the vehicle and hopped into the driver’s seat. “The others are ready to leave. Shall I take you to your home away from home?”

  Mikael patted him on the shoulder and said something I didn’t understand in broken Dutch.

  “We all speak English,” said Bastian as we drove through the heart of the city. “Amsterdam is a unique city. We comprise a hundred islands connected by bridges and canals. We are crossing over the Prinsengracht now. One day, if you have time, I will take you on a proper tour.”

  I peered out of the van’s tinted window and marveled at the city’s waterways. “Are those houseboats?”

  “Yes,” he said, chuckling. “Many people live along the canals in small houseboats. They dock right next to the sidewalks, sometimes close to the ramps for the water taxis.”

  “Where are all the cars?”

  “We are in the urban center of the city now. It is used for public transportation. We are based here as it is easy to blend in. In a moment, we will turn off to our home.”

  “Do you live there full-time?”

  Bastian turned off the main thoroughfare onto a smaller street of cobblestones. Each side was lined with cute shops, most of them decorated with flowers, gorgeous tulip buds of every color. “We passed the Anne Frank Museum. The Northern Market is nearby. If you like these flowers, you will love the Market. And yes, I live here with two others.”

  My eyes darted between Bastian, the small stores tucked into the packed residential streets, and the waterways that connected everything. I wrapped my fingers around the door handle and made to get out of the still moving vehicle, desperate to walk around and take in as much as possible. Mikael grabbed my other arm, smiling, and shook his head.

  “Another day. I forget that you have not been here before. Besides, we have arrived.”

  Bastian pulled to a stop in front of a building that took up the corner of a block, its entrance facing the intersection at an angle. It was brick, like the other buildings in the area, but otherwise stuck out. Unlike the surrounding buildings it wasn’t narrow and tall. It was wide and squat. Five steps led up to an arched doorway that was flanked by squat, wood-framed
windows with flower planters. It was five stories tall and reminded me of a school or a church, not a small apartment building like I’d expected.

  “This is home,” he said. “Welcome to the Van de Vespers or the home of the Vespers. It has no official name, but it is what we call it.”

  “Wow,” was all I could manage. “How many people come here?”

  “Dozens, and not just from Holland. For special occasions, the London families join us.” Bastian parked and opened the door for me, offering his arm and taking my bags. “I will park and then give you a tour of the building.”

  The others joined us, appearing more relaxed than earlier. Kosuke had lost his rigid posture and joked with Esai. Hernandez, Jordan, and Jones helped the drivers unload our cases of weapons and brought them through the front door to the main lobby.

  “Milaya, they are waiting on us,” Mikael reminded me, nudging my shoulder to get my attention. We were still standing in front of the building, my eyes as wide as possible, taking it all in. “I promise we will go sightseeing. Jordan has been here often, and I’m sure Bastian would love to take you around.”

  “Uh-huh,” I responded while following him inside. It didn’t even occur to me to be embarrassed by my awestruck behavior. Although I’d traveled around the United States since becoming a Vesper, nothing compared to this city. It was a marvel and I’d only seen whatever bits I could manage coming from the airport.

  Bastian returned and showed us where we could store our gear and led us up a narrow set of stairs featuring wood-paneled walls to the guest rooms on the third floor.

  “This is where visitors stay when they come to us. Jasper, your room is here,” said Bastian, gesturing to a door on the far left of the large, open common room. The rest of you can decide where you want to sleep among the other rooms.”

  “Boss, what’s next?”

  Jones didn’t say much, so his question caught me a little off guard. “Oh, um… unpack and regroup in ten minutes,” I said, hoping I didn’t seem confused. “We’ll break up into teams and spread out around the closest surveillance points.”

  “Got it.”

  After a moment of deliberation, the team scouted the remaining bedrooms and split into pairs. Jones bunked with Esai. That, or he lost a bet and had no choice. Either way, the good-humored man didn’t seem to mind. Kosuke and Hernandez took the middle room while Jordan and Mikael took the one closest to mine.

  I stepped through the narrow door of my temporary bedroom and found a full-sized bed with a plain wooden headboard, a small desk, and a closet. The walls were painted the color of sand on a sunny day, making the room feel bigger than it was. I placed my laptop bag on the desk and my luggage on the floor next to the truck at the foot of the bed. Details of the mission, which had stayed in the background of my mind, flooded my brain while I unpacked and stored my belongings around the room.

  They were all waiting when I returned to the common area a few moments later.

  “So, uh, tonight we will familiarize ourselves with the areas our kidnapped Vespers were last seen. We’ll go in pairs and take two locations each. Esai, you’ll go with Hernandez since he’s familiar with the city. Kosuke and Jones, you’ll visit the area around the school. Jordan, you will take me to… where are we going?”

  “De Wallen,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

  Oh.

  Mikael piped up. “Why can I not come along?”

  “You’re setting up the command center here,” said Hernandez with a healthy dose of sympathy. “We can’t do this without your help. I promise to take you during our off hours tomorrow night. We can go sightseeing.”

  I wasn’t sure who was redder, Mikael or me. De Wallen was the infamous Red-Light District. Sightseeing there was an entirely different experience, I assumed. The trip couldn’t be helped, my naïve discomfort irrelevant. One of our missing had last been seen entering the district. We had to look for anything suspicious. I felt that Jordan’s suggestion of taking me there was a mild form of hazing.

  Mikael ducked his head and nodded. “Fine. Everything will be established by the time you return. Will someone buy me frites? I’m hungry.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “YOU’RE THE MASTER OF undercover work. Teach me,” I said to Jordan as we crossed a bridge on foot. Because it was a pedestrian city, we opted to walk everywhere on this trip, at least until we moved in for the rescue mission.

  He put his hands in his pockets and watched me out of the corner of his eye. “You need to relax. You’re walking too fast and drawing unnecessary attention.”

  “I’m just trying to keep an eye out. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do?”

  Jordan sighed and reached out to touch me on the arm. “Yes, but you don’t want to look like it. Blend in. Walk with me, not ahead of me. If you want to look left, turn your head and say something in my direction and scan as you turn back.”

  I released a deflated sigh, knowing he was right. Jordan eyed me and glanced around with a crooked smile. I watched his eyes take in everything around us and catalog it, but his face registered none of that. Nothing about him appeared strained or showed that he was doing anything out of the ordinary. To anyone passing by, he was just walking with a friend. He made it look so easy.

  I smiled back at his encouragement and tried it myself, taking in our surroundings as I turned to look back up at him. Simple, but effective.

  “Thanks for the tip,” I said.

  “No problem.”

  “Why’d you pick De Wallen for us? I wouldn’t have put you in charge of the ground logistics if I’d known.”

  “It’s the most challenging area because everything appears suspicious if you’re not from here. Also, I thought it would be funny to watch your discomfort,” he admitted, grinning at me.

  I stuck my tongue out at him and burrowed deeper into my jacket. The wind had picked up, and with the nighttime temperatures, it was chilly. “We may find nothing. They’ve already taken someone, and they were likely following him.”

  “Or they may know that we’re hunting and are keeping an eye out for us,” he countered. “Anything is possible. A Vesper owns a frite stand in the district. I verified that it’s still open, so we’ll get a snack and a good scouting location. If they’re after any old Vesper, our friend will be next.”

  “What about the safe house?”

  “Bastian and the others have increased security measures.” Jordan jutted his chin toward an upcoming bridge. “We’re here.”

  Exhaling, I prepared myself for a den of carnal sin. We passed a couple of vendors selling food and beverages and turned onto a long street flanked on both sides with uneven rows of red lights as far as the eye could see. To my right were floor-length windows featuring scantily clad women with heavy makeup and teased hair. They smiled and danced, undulating to the music coming from behind their screens. One smoked a cigarette and read from a thick paperback novel. The next leaned over to expose her cleavage and beckoned toward us.

  My face burned. I didn’t have a problem with sex. I wasn’t used to such an open display. The curvy blonde woman took in my reaction and waggled her finger at me, gesturing for me to come closer. Jordan took my arm and tried to guide me toward the window.

  “Dude!” I hissed. “What are you doing?”

  “I think that woman is a Vesper. I met her the last time I was here for an event. She’s zeroed in on us and is ignoring the college boys who are waving money at her. I’m confident that she wants to talk.”

  How did he know these things? Had he passed down a master file that I’d missed? I should have known that there was a possibility of meeting more than one Vesper. I took another look around. Jordan was right. The woman had tuned out the college kids. One had gotten on his knees and begged, fanning money in his hand. Ignoring him, she pointed toward me and crooked her finger, waving at us to enter through the small door next to her window.

  “What else are you keeping from me?” I muttered as he guided me forward.


  “Nothing. I hadn’t expected to see anyone besides our friend the frite maker. This is an unexpected bonus. She’s another set of eyes on the street that I didn’t know we had.”

  The woman opened the door for us and stood back to let us into the hidden bedroom. A full-sized bed took up the majority of the room, its dark sheets plain and nondescript. An armchair and a folding chair were nestled by the window, reminding me of the woman reading her paperback just a few windows over. A full-length mirror, framed in heavy black wood, leaned against the wall across from the bed. Tucked into the corner were a small sink and a locker. The bolts on the door were thrown as soon as we entered and she exhaled.

  “You are Vespers,” she stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “I recognize you from last year’s winter festivities. You stayed several days with Bastian.”

  “I was only there two nights,” Jordan confirmed, “but you’re correct. I’m Jordan and this is Jasper.”

  She beamed, removing the sheer shawl that had covered her shoulders. “We have heard much of you, Jasper. You have a fan in our Bastian. You all do.” She slapped her forehead and turned to us in apology. “Where are my manners? Please forgive me. My name is Heather. It is kismet that you walked by as I was thinking of your arrival.”

  “Who knows that we’re here?”

  She frowned, her pretty nose wrinkling and her styled brows coming together. “Everyone. It was announced two days ago. We are all concerned about our missing members and we were asked to come to you with any information we might have. I thought that I would go by the safe house after my shift.”

  “Kismet,” agreed Jordan. “We were on our way to meet Lucas, the man who owns the frite stand.”

  Heather nodded. “Please sit. Everything is clean. I have had no customers yet.”

  I glanced at the bed, and my stomach flipped. Her job was her business. It was just strange to know that I was sitting where she’d be doing… well, people… in a short while. Maybe I was a prude. Mikael would have just claimed that I was innocent.