by Jon Herrera
Chapter One
Sunrise was approaching. Vampires have a natural aversion to sunrise, since daylight leads to spontaneous combustion. But it was a sure method of suicide. One of a handful of ways for the near immortal set to put an end to it all. The Vampire Jake was here with that goal in mind.
The loose gravel shifted under the soles of my Tevas. The unsure footing meant I couldn’t just flash over to Jake and grab him. I didn’t want to risk enthralling him either. He had a few tricks that might confuse my vampire senses. I might slip and send us both over the edge. Jake might want to die today, but it wasn’t on my to do list.
He turned his face toward me. He was as beautiful as he had been on the day he was Turned over a hundred years ago. His body would remain twenty years old for as long as he lived. His good looks and ready wit were a magnet to young humans.
“You’re lucky, Wil.” Jake said and spread his arms to welcome the coming sun. “You only have one woman in your life. Everyone I feed on seems to move into the top floor of the Nightshade Gallery and take up residence. My one regret is that many of them will die when I do.”
When a Vampire made someone their Bride, or their Chosen as I liked to call them, they formed a bond. The longer power was shared with a human, the stronger that bond became. The death of one often meant the death of the other. Jake wasn’t just killing himself, he was killing his long time Chosen as well.
I inched forward across the uneven rooftop. A stiff breeze forced me to grab onto a cold antenna support to steady my balance. Jake’s slim body was as rigid as the low retaining wall, only his thick hair was windblown. He was using some Vampire power to secure himself where he stood. I would have to talk him down, or take part of the roof with him.
"What happened this time, Jake?” I said and took another unsteady step toward him. "Did you really run out of floor space for your groupies? Or did you buy another fake Gauguin?"
"Not funny, Wil.” Jake said and whirled around to put the seven-story fall behind him. "It wasn’t even a good fake."
"So hang it in a dark corner.” I said and thought about the many shadowy spots in the Nightshade Gallery. “Maybe no one will notice.”
"Like I’d take business advice from you.” Jake said and rocked back and forth on the ledge. He hopped down and scattered small stones under foot. He didn’t need to breathe, but his chest rose and fell with rapid breaths all the same. He shoved his hair away from his face. "The Nightshade Gallery has a reputation to maintain. What if word gets out that my walls are covered with forgeries?"
"No one will care.” I said and took the last couple of steps over to Jake. "When was the last time you had to rely on the sale of art to keep your doors open?"
"I sell art all the time.” Jake said and turned his narrow face toward me. A bit of fire shone in his slate gray eyes. "That’s why I’m up here. Fedor was the client that bought the Gauguin. The damned thing looked perfect when I bought it. But later when I showed it to Fedor it looked like the work of a talented fifth grader.”
I nodded in understanding. Fedor is the Consul at The Fort Worth Vampire Consulate and he usually gets what he wants. People who can’t get him what he wants have been known to disappear into his dungeons. Then just disappear.
“I also wanted you to come up here and admire the view.” Jake said and licked his lips. He looked around the rooftop with trepidation. He seemed to expect something to happen at any moment. He spoke into my mind. ‘I acquired something new the other day. Something I think you should see. It’s a painting of a Goddess. Once I’m dead you can have it.’
“I’m not that into paintings.” I said and looked around. A flag flapped in the wind on a distant building. The sky showed a bit of morning light. Anxiety swirled around us as death drew nearer. “A Goddess you say?”
“Yes.” Jake said and moved to face the eastern sky again. “You never told me you knew a Goddess.”
“Because I don’t.” I said and prepared to reach out and grab Jake. “Any other last words?”
“As Master of Fort Worth you should take my death more seriously.” Jake said and leaned toward the sun as he descended into depression. “Think about what the papers will say. Master of City Laughs as Friend Dies.”
"We don't have time for this, Jake. And I’m not really the Master of Fort Worth.” I said. My chest throbbed with warnings of the approaching dawn. "Tell me more about this painting. But tell me later.”
"Will you talk to Fedor about the Gauguin?” Jake said theatrically and looked at the oversized watch on his wrist. The cries from a plague of grackles greeting the morning almost drowned out his words. "If you promise to help me, I might decide to live another night."
“I’ll talk to Fedor.” I said and stretched out my hand to him. “Can we go downstairs now?”
“We need to talk.” Jake said and looked past me with a start. Another flash of power in his eyes showed that he was using some vampire power. His eyebrows rose and his mouth dropped open. “Oh.”
I coiled in anticipation of stopping Jake in mid-flight. Instead, he fainted dead away. I caught him before he hit the rooftop. The son of a bitch almost knocked me over the ledge. I slipped on the gravel and fell against a cell phone tower. Jake landed on top of me. My heart started beating faster as I prepared to flash for the stairs. I felt some power being used.
I looked up and saw a small woman with her back to me. She had a green aura of power that caused ripples to distort the air around her. I was on my feet in a moment, the coming dawn forgotten. She raised her arms and spread her fingers as she tilted her head back. A shock wave of force flashed out from her. The building shook beneath me. The surrounding towers cracked and tumbled. Alarms sounded and fires erupted. The sun rushed over the horizon as if the woman had pulled it. She turned and smiled at me, the light of the dawn full on her face. I waited to burn in the sun, but she held me protected in her power.
She was young, almost a child, but her green eyes were glowing with a timeless energy. Her smile had too many teeth and the tops of her ears poked out of her hair. She was an Elf, but unlike any Elf I had ever seen. I saw her clearly in the light of a fully risen sun. She was wearing a gossamer dress made of a sheer fabric that clung to her thin body. Her black hair caught the morning wind and looked like a lion’s mane. It took me a moment to notice she was floating a few inches from the rooftop. She was beautiful and terrifying.
She brought her hands together and then threw them wide. She arched her back as more power poured out of her. The world shattered and the darkness of space rushed in to surround us. I was weightless and helpless. The Elf revelled in this destruction and laughed. I watched as she turned her attention to the destruction of the moon and the sun. I could hear her through the vacuum of space.
“Oh, Beloved.” She said in a voice that filled my mind with a familiarity I didn’t share. “Isn’t it glorious?”
I stumbled back a step and tripped over Jake. I fell back onto the rooftop. A meteor streaked across the sky like an omen. My throat closed and tears flowed as the vision of destruction filled my mind. The thickness in my chest hurt. But I didn’t have time to mourn the world at the moment.
I grabbed Jake and flashed down the stairs. I found shelter for us in the mechanical room’s cool darkness. Before I could do more than lay down, I was dead to the world for another day.
FORT WORTH’S VAMPIRE Consulate was installed in a nice turn of the 19th century brick and mortar structure. The building has several Neoclassical Revival details. I liked the feeling of grace and grandeur the structure projected. Our building is twenty stories tall and has extensive subterranean works. It was built a bit over a hundred years ago, the same time all the other Embassies and Consulates were built.
The lobby smelled of old magazine and perfume samples. The small waiting area was right next to the door and these newsstand scents were always the first thing to assault my senses. The rest of the spacious room had no real scents to speak of. The fat square colum
ns that went up to the classical Greek molding of the two story tall ceiling were a nice pale marble. The room was lit by several large ceiling bowl light fixtures with brass details. The reception desk took up most of one wall. And a couple of check writing desks filled with Vampire Commission forms and brochures sat here and there.
As Master of the City I have an office at the Consulate. I never use it. Fedor and Kilestra run this part of Texas and they keep me around to do the public bits like cutting ribbons and attending galas. I’m not as ghoulish as Fedor or as frightening as Kilestra. People prefer seeing a more human-like vampire as Master. It’s more of an honorary title.
The Consul is where the Vampire Commission wields its local authority. They run the Supernatural world from a stronghold in the Carpathian Mountains. There was a large painting of Dracula’s Castle hanging on the wall behind the reception desk. Just looking at it gave me a shiver. I was never sure if it was just the image or if it was imbued with a bit of magic.
The Commission was run by a lot of scary vampires. The painting showed a row of impaled bodies in the foreground as a reminder to every Supernatural who visited the Consulate to behave themselves. The two Supernaturals that nearly got us all killed in 1897 were featured prominently in the front. A vampire and a werewolf that brought knowledge of our existence to the wider world. I turned my eyes away from the grisly sight.
And now that we are all out in the open, The Commission has spread its power around the world through its Embassies and Consulates. They like to say that The Sun Never Rises on the Vampire Commission. I have to say I like it better this way.
The Commission deals with all the major league problems. My problems were always a bit closer to home and usually a bit less world altering. Like the recent murder of a Vampire in the nightclub he managed.
"I hear Kilestra took Fredric’s head.” Andy said without looking up from his gun magazine. "She did leave the rest of his body behind. Not her usual M.O.”
Andy was a tall, thin man who has been in my service for about eighty years. He’s not someone I share power with, but he has someone who takes care of him. I have never found out who. He is forever in his sixties and has an uncanny ability to resist vampire powers. He used to be a Hunter and has endless stories about the good old days. Now, he follows me around and we enforce the rules of the Vampire Commission.
"The Vampire Fredric was nothing but trouble anyway.” Jackie said from behind the reception desk’s long counter. "Always seducing women and talking with that fake accent. Like he learned how to be a vampire by watching old movies.”
Jackie was a slightly round woman in her forties who was one of Fedor’s Chosen. She kept the Enforcer division of the Consulate running and kept her finger on the pulse of the Supernatural community. She always looked clean and professional, as opposed to Andy, who dressed like he just came in from the back forty.
"Fredric seemed to be popular with the women at the Jangling Spur.” Andy said and raised his eyebrow. Jackie shook her head.
"Good to know everyone thinks this is a joke.” Fedor said from inside his office. "The death of a prominent vampire is serious Consulate business.”
“Yeah.” Jackie said and shuffled folders around on her desk. “One less vampire to worry about.”
"Wilhem, a moment if you please.” Fedor said, ignoring Jackie.
Consul General was embossed in thick gold letters on the door. I left the Vampire Consulate’s sterile public area and entered the late Victorian world of Fedor's private offices. Dark woods, lead glass lamps, and china cabinets filled with curios crowded the room. The air smelled of cleaning products. An antique fan with shiny brass blades kept the air moving. Art from a wide range of periods covered the walls. There was a clear preference for Impressionists.
Fedor sat behind a large Empire desk surrounded by dark wooden file cabinets. The room was filled with items that were both beautiful and a bit creepy. Much like Fedor himself.
"We have a number of Rogues in the Metroplex at the moment.” Fedor said in his smooth British accent. "A few simple debt collections, a couple of rule breakers, and a drug dealer or two. People you can take care of for me."
Fedor was an Ancient Vampire with a mane of white hair that gave him an air of madness. It was a good match to his beard that was in a style not popular since the U.S. Civil War. Unlike most vampires, Fedor looked old. This was a deception he had used to his advantage many times in the past.
"This is America, Fedor.” I reminded him as I sat in one of his rigid wing backed chairs. "We don't kill interlopers on sight."
"Really?” He said and cocked an eyebrow at me. “Does your little pet Kilestra know that? She never seems to have a whole body to turn in for the reward.”
“Little pet?” I said and looked into the darker corners of the room with a bit of trepidation. “Feeling suicidal, Fedor?”
“Your Ancient doesn’t scare me, Wilhem.” Fedor said and let his own power flash in his eyes. He pushed some forms across the desk. He took a moment to look around as well, then let his power fade. "These are small fish well within your skill sets."
"And small payouts as well?” I said as I flipped through the forms. Fedor paid a reward for captures and a percentage on loans and gambling debts. He watched as I checked the amount on the handful of Rogues.
"You should be more careful with your funds, Wilhem.” Fedor said and drummed his fingers on his desktop. His forehead furrowed as he looked at me. "You have the title of Master of the City of Fort Worth. There’s no reason you shouldn't have all the money you want."
Fedor meant that I should just levee taxes, run a protection racket, and maybe collect a little more personal Tribute. That's the way some vampires run their city. That's also how images of crowds with torches and pitchforks end up on the evening news.
"You know I don’t embrace that whole Master of Fort Worth thing, Fedor.” I said and flipped through the Warrants and Orders to Appear. I stopped when I found a name I recognized. "Billy’s in town?"
“So I hear.” Fedor said and adjusted the Eldridge knot on his thick silk tie. "He’s got fines from a couple of dozen Consulates around the Country."
"Just about money this time?" I said and put Billy’s many extracurricular activities out of my mind.
"He’s proven impossible to rehabilitate.” Fedor said and a vein popped out on his neck. "I can’t Re-Educate a mind like his. Still, he has enough sense to keep moving. Get the money he owes me and send him on his way.”
“He’s mostly harmless.” I said as images of Billy getting humans stoned so he could drink their intoxicated blood drifted through my mind. I shook my head. “Mostly.”
“You need to find a better class of friend.” Fedor said and waved a hand at me.
He turned his attention to his Twitter feed. He had one of those Steampunk computers made out of Victorian era elements fused onto a modern machine. It fit in nicely with the rest of the room. He squinted at some comment and quickly tapped out a reply. This was usually a good sign that he was done with me, but I wasn’t done yet.
"I can't help but notice that Kilestra isn't in my files.” I said as smoothly as I could. Kilestra and I had been close for over a century. Lovers, conspirators, and friends off and on.
"I knew you wouldn't want that case.” Fedor said and turned his face to me while leaving his fingers over the keyboard. "So I handed it off to Gerald."
"Gerald hasn't got a chance against Kilestra.” I said and narrowed my eyes.
“Maybe not.” Fedor said as he copied and pasted something into Twitter. “Was there something else?”
“Jake seems to be worried that you might lock him up.” I said and looked over at the collection of paintings on Fedor’s wall. One of them was a very crude painting that didn’t fit in with the masterpieces around it. It had a nice frame, though.
“If he doesn’t get me a Gauguin.” Fedor said without looking at me. “I will do some very bad things to him.”
“I�
�d like to offer my protection.” I said and cleared my throat to get Fedor’s attention.
“What?” Fedor said and looked my way when he noticed I hadn’t left yet. “Fine, I won’t kill him right away. Tell Jake my patience isn’t infinite.”
“One last thing.” I said and leaned forward. “Do you know anything about Elves?”
“They have a good flavor.” Fedor said and let his hands move away from the computer as he leaned back in his chair. “Some of them have a very good flavor indeed.”
“Thanks.” I said and left Fedor’s office as he sat staring off into space.
JACKIE WALKED UP to me and the sparkle of light in her eyes told me she was having a Vision. She was Seeing the future, or one possible future anyway. She usually shared these little glimpses of the world to come with Fedor. It was one of the reasons Fedor had made her his Chosen in the first place. Seers are somewhat rare.
The look on Jackie’s face was one of love and lust. She shifted her full hips to one side and tilted her head. Her short brown hair moved with a little bounce. Her mouth curved into a smile. Her movements were in stark contrast to her formal business suit and sensible shoes.
Jackie put her hand on my chest and looked at me in a way that implied more than friendship. A lot more judging from the way she let her body melt into mine. She rubbed her head on my chest and cooed in a way I found very distracting.
“Is your Elf around?” Jackie said and looked this way and that. The corners of her eyes crinkled and she smiled at me. “I don’t want to make her jealous.”
“My Elf?” I said and took a step back to separate our bodies a bit. “I don’t think so.”
“Good.” Jackie said as she took my hand and started to pull me after her. “Then we can go to one of the Guest Rooms. We haven’t been on the seventeenth floor yet. There’s that one room that has mirrors on the ceiling. I know how you like to watch.”
The twinkle in Jackie’s honey brown eyes switched off. She stared at me in the confused way she had after she got a glimpse of some possible future event. She snatched her hand back from mine and looked me up and down. She rolled her eyes. Her Visions were only clear for a short while after she had them. Something to do with potentiality and the like.
“Is it that bad?” I said and tried to console her as an image of the world’s destruction ran through my mind.
“I suppose it could be worse.” Jackie said and moved back behind the counter. “Shouldn’t you be out looking for Rogues?”
I walked down the street to the Nightshade Gallery. It was a clear night and the air still smelled a bit of warmth and sunshine. I stopped outside the Gallery and looked through a large window. I saw a small crowd of well-dressed people with glasses in their hands. The gallery sold art, but their real business was having Vampire and Human Mixers. Events where vampires can get a little taste of fresh blood. And humans can get a taste of the powers of a vampire. At a small cost to each, of course. It’s a little more intimate than the Vampire Seeks Blood page on Craigslist. Jake ran this Gallery.
“Wilhem.” Jake said and made a show of spreading his arms in a welcoming gesture as I walked in. The Gallery was like other places that display art, it had neutral smells and the only sound was the background murmur of people speaking to each other in low tones. Jake’s voice easily carried to the farthest corner. “Always good to see the Master of the City.”
“Hey.” I said and showed a flash of power in my eyes. The small group gathered here on a cool November evening looked suitably impressed. Jake put a hand on my shoulder and guided me away from the public areas. He showed no sign that he had recently been contemplating suicide.
He opened a door and led me into his office. It was a lush room meant to intimidate the less affluent and impress the wealthy. The room had hints of vanilla and old books, scents that Jake carefully placed here and there to add an air of calm. All manner of art was scattered about the spacious area. I spotted one of my photographs on a wall behind Jake’s desk. A platinum print of the Alamo from around 1910.
“You sold one piece last month, Wil.” Jake said and took a bit of paper off his desk. “Don’t spend it all in one place.”
The paper listed the fees for Jake’s services and the tiny amount that remained for me. Well, I wasn’t exactly the most successful of his clients. I folded the paper and put it away.
“This is what I wanted you to see.” He said and pulled aside a plush red curtain.
It was an oil painting of a young woman sitting on the ledge of a rooftop. The buildings behind her were out of focus, but they were easy enough to make out. It was the view from the Flat Iron Building’s rooftop in Fort Worth. Where I had recently had a chat with Jake and seen the world destroyed.
The woman in the painting was an Elf. She had called me Beloved before she caused the Sun to go supernova. She was wearing some kind of formal gown and had a coat draped over her shoulders. She stared out of the painting. The artist had done an amazing job of catching the glowing green light of power in her eyes.
The image would have been lovely had it not been for the black chains binding her. The same dark metal formed a slave collar and shackles hung on her wrists and ankles. At a guess, the metal was tarnished silver. Silver tends to inflict the kind of damage I saw on her skin around the restraints.
The canvas was speckled with a fine gold filigree. It formed a lacy pattern over the painting’s entire surface. Thin gold strands invisible from only a few feet away.
“What is this?” I said and reached out to touch it. A spark of fire burned my finger and I quickly pulled it back.
“That’s the magic I warned you about.” Jake said and shook his head. “Ravenhawk says it’s some kind of a binding spell. It also seems to repel vampires.”
Ravenhawk was a witch with a small consulting office at the Gallery. Her specialty was Native American magic and Spirit Guides. This didn’t look Native American.
“So this is new, then?” I said and looked at the buildings in the background. They looked exactly like the view facing east that we had seen only this morning.
“No.” Jake said and showed me a parchment that was fragile with age. “This is an Elven painting from about 1200 BC. Even among Elven Scholars, the subject matter has always been a topic of discussion. The only thing everyone agrees on is the woman’s identity. This is a portrait of Desiara, the Goddess of the World’s End.”
“That explains a lot.” I said and shook my head to clear it of screams and fires and drifting rubble. “So you wanted me to see it because it has Fort Worth in the background?”
“Yes, that.” Jake said and picked up a magnifying glass from his desktop. “And this.”
He held the magnifying glass above the Goddess’s hands. I saw she was holding a tri-fold cameo. Three men’s portraits. They were head and shoulder studies of serious men in formal clothes. The one on the far right was of me. Since I wasn’t aging and I seldom changed my hair style, there was no way of telling when the portrait had been made. The portrait portrayed me much as I appeared now.
“Where did this come from?” I said and felt my hands clench into fists.
“Fredric gave it to me.” Jake said and returned the magnifying glass to his desktop. “He said Carlo found it and he wanted me to keep it safe for him. Maybe this is why he was killed.”
I looked at the Elf Goddess and found Jackie’s talk about “my Elf” bouncing around my mind. I gave the portrait a serious look. The filigree seemed to form lightning bolts shooting out from the Goddess’s outline. My portrait in her hand shot down any hopes that this wasn’t going to be the Elf in Jackie’s vision.
“Keep it for me, Jake.” I said and a subtle waft of power from the painting flowed over me. “We’ll work out something for the payment.”
“Of course, Wil.” Jake said and looked at the oddly out of time portrait. “It should be safe here. Assuming the world isn’t destroyed anytime soon.”