Post by Stardrifter on Sept 8, 2015 21:19:19 GMT -5
by
Stardrifter
-Chapter 2-
"Who are you?" I asked, staring past the hand in my face and up into Abby's eyes.
"Abigail Whistler," she barked, shaking her hand impatiently. "Let's go."
Whistler. I remembered that name. The old man with Eric and Hannibal last night. All the pieces fell together in a moment of clarity that cut through my slightly drunken haze. There was a woman fighting the punk vampires when they saved me. That's why she seemed familiar. Yet she wasn't there when I woke up in the warehouse. So either she was away or...
"You're using me as bait!" I shouted, overcome with anger and an unreasonable sense of betrayal.
"Bait that's about to be caught if we don't move!" Abby reached down and grabbed my elbow, pulling me to my feet. Once I was up, she put a finer to her ear. "We're moving. West down Central." She paused, listening, and then said, "All right."
The sounds of running footsteps echoed down the alley. Clutching my wrist so tightly it hurt, Abby pulled me behind her as we ran.
"Where are we going?" I shouted through heavy breaths. She didn't answer. "Abby?"
We reached the end of the alley and started around the corner. Waiting for us was a large man with pale white skin. He hissed, bared his fangs, and lunged toward us.
Abby didn't miss a beat. The large vampire was fast, but Abby was faster. She side stepped his attack, grabbed his wrist, and used his momentum to spin him around and into the corner behind her. Her dagger struck like lightning, turning the vampire to ash.
"Don't call me Abby."
I swallowed, my throat dry, and bit my tongue as Abigail led me on. We raced down the street, ignoring a handful of gawkers, and headed for the next intersection.
Before we reached the intersection, two black SUVs ran the lights, spun around, and screeched to a halt end on end, blocking the street. It was enough to distract Abigail from the vampire who ran at us from the sidewalk.
The dark skinned woman grabbed my forearm and pulled me toward her like a rag doll. With her other hand she swiped at Abigail, her claw like fingernails tearing through her shirt and into her skin on her midsection.
Abigail yelped in pain, grabbing at her stomach. The vampire reared back, preparing to strike, when I found myself moving without thought.
It felt like I was outside my own body. I watched as I fished in my jacket pocket for the silver dagger. I ducked down under the vampire's arm, twisting it around her back, and plunged the dagger into her.
I expected to see the woman burst into a pile of ash. Instead she let out an ear piercing squeal, the dagger sticking out a good two inches too far right of her heart. She turned toward me and backhanded my jaw. I fell to one knee, raising my arms to cover my face.
Before another strike came, I heard a popping sound, soon followed by the rustling of leaves. I looked up to see the vampire gone, turned to ash, and Abigail standing with her dagger out. She panted, blood oozing through the fingers over her abdomen.
I fumbled forward, trying to grab my discarded dagger, when Abigail grabbed me and shouted, "Leave it! Go!"
We ran down the street. past the beeping cars stuck behind the SUVs blocking the street, until we came to a man on a Honda sportsbike.
"Emergency," Abigail muttered, smashing her elbow into the side of the man's helmet. She pushed him over, caught the bike as it fell, and climbed on. "Get on!"
I eyed the back of the bike warily. The one time I tried to ride a motorcycle I spilled and ended up in the hospital with a broken wrist and ten stitches. I don't like motorcycles. I looked back down the street, saw five people in black clothes and masks running toward us, and leapt onto the back of the bike.
At first I wasn't sure where to hold on. I awkwardly wrapped my arms around Abigail's shoulders, but that didn't work. I finally reached down around her waist. She flinched but said nothing, and I considered that the pressure on her wound might actually help stop the bleeding.
Just as the masked vampires were about to reach us, Abigail revved the bike, spun us around, and drove off into the night.
I hate New York. A stench permeates from every crevasse. The City that Never Sleeps, nor bathes. It is so bad that it sours even the blood. Every time I have traveled here in the last century I have regretted it. Yet, here I am.
The ground floor elevator dinged and the doors opened. A man with jet black hair and a fine black suit stood, waiting for us to step inside. I could make out the slight bulge beneath his jacket where his sidearm sat. No doubt a silver dagger sat sheathed behind his back. Ever the warm welcome from my brother.
I stepped aside and extended my arm, allowing Danielle to go first. I may be many things, but a gentleman is one. As she stepped onto the elevator I took particular note of her appearance for the first time that night. She wore a skintight black dress with long sleeves over her creamy brown skin. It hugged her curves so tightly that, even without showing any skin, it was quite arousing. Her black hair was braided tightly behind her head and hung to the small of her back.
I quickly entered the elevator after her. The guard put a key into the controls and pushed the button for the top floor. He looked at me and gave the slightest hint of a smirk. I resisted the urge to tear his throat out. I was, after all, a guest.
"We're late," Danielle whispered behind me, her voice silky smooth.
"It's a party," I explained as I adjusted my gold colored tie and smoothed down my black suit. I ran my hands through my spikey blond hair, brushing the slightly pointed tips of my ears, and let out a heavy breath. "It's best to be fashionably late."
"You always told me not to anger the Council."
"I was invited, not summoned. This is not official Council business."
"Then why are we here?" she asked. I could hear the self satisfaction in her voice. We often sparred verbally. It helped keep each other on our toes. And she knew she got me, this time.
"The invitation was...insistent," I replied, annoyed. "As you said, best not to anger the Council."
We traveled the rest of the way in silence, which gave me time to consider the invitation. Even as the Regent of the southwest United States territory, it was highly unusual to be invited to such an event. It was, as I said, a social gathering. The council did not socialize with the masses, even those as powerful as I.
Normally I would have considered the invitation a mere formality. A token offering due to my bloodline. After all, they can't very well NOT invite one of the Sons of Tepes. Normally they make the invitation, I politely decline it, and we all go on our way. Yet this time there was an insistence in the tone. An unwritten demand. Someone or ones wanted me here, yet would not make that request official. It was maddening.
The bell rang and the doors mercifully opened. The guard offered me a full on lopsided smirk. I offered him the back of my hand. He crumpled to the floor of the elevator, unconscious, I pushed the button for the ground floor, and Danielle and I stepped off. It might be taken as a slight insult, but it was better than killing him. And it felt good.
Soft classical music drifted through the air, gentle strings and piano. The soft murmur of indistinguishable voices reverberated all around us. We walked down the short hallway, past more guards in black suits with hidden weaponry, and out into the great garden.
The walls and ceiling were all glass, letting in the beautiful glow from the moon and stars above. All manner of trees ran along the edges of the area, while small bushes and beds of flowers made up the inside area, allowing a full field of vision. Several small gargoyle fountains trickled water amongst the crowd, with one giant water fountain sitting at the center. On top was a large man-bat creature, it's mouth pointed at the sky in a silent roar.
"Your brother certainly has fine taste," Danielle whispered in my ear.
A servant walked up and offered a tray toward us. It had both glasses of champagne, for the human guests, as well as glasses of blood. I took a glass of blood, while Danielle took one of champagne. She did not like to feed in public, even when offered innocuously. I never bothered to ask why. It was simply one of her quirks.
"So good of you to join us, Xarus," a voice with a slight Middle Eastern accent called out. I turned to see Ceres, leader of the Claw Sect, walking toward us. He had light brown skin and a sharp black beard. His head was covered in a blood red turban which matched his elaborate robes.
"Lord Ceres," I said in greeting, bowing slightly. Danielle followed suit. He didn't even glance at her. "How could I refuse such a lovely invitation?"
"The same way you have refused all of our previous ones," Ceres said mockingly. He acknowledged the situation but did not seem at all off put by it. I didn't know the man well, but in our few past meetings he never struck me as having any ill will toward me. Like always, he seemed simply above it all.
"Well I felt the Council was rather insistent with it's invitation this time."
"Perhaps," Ceres mused, taking a sip of his glass of blood. I did the same. The warm blood was spiked with a hint of alcohol, likely wine. It was good. Expensive. Ceres continued, "But not all of us. Your recent activities have caused some of my fellow Council members to raise...concerns."
"My activities?" I asked, feigning ignorance.
Ceres ignored my question. "Not enough concerns to convene an inquiry, of course. But enough that I do not envy you the questions you're to receive this night. Nor the ire of your brother. Still, I felt fair warning was in order. Good luck."
I watched Ceres go and shuddered. I thought I was being careful. Slow. Off their radar. Apparently not. Still, as Ceres said, this wasn't an inquiry. That meant only a minority of the Council members were concerned. Of the eight leaders of the sects, my brother Janus was certainly one. Had I to guess, I would say that blockheaded Legate was the second. Then who? Nosferatu perhaps. Or Ulani.
I took Danielle's arm in mine and walked over toward the open doorway leading to the balcony. I needed some air. We weaved our way through the crowds. It was mostly the same inbred group I expected. Council members, their direct families or servants. The rare human familiar doing their best to worship and grovel in hopes of becoming a vampire themselves one day.
The night air was cool against my already cool skin. Despite my disdain for the city, even I had to admit the view was spectacular. All the humans, on foot and in cars, scurried about like ants.
"Breathtaking, is it not?"
I didn't turn at my brother's voice. He didn't need the acknowledgment. I could sense he wasn't alone either. A stale, musty scent lingered behind me. Nosferatu it was then.
"Reaffirming, yes. Breathtaking, no."
"Of course," Janus said as he walked up beside me, forcing his way into my field of vision. "You always preferred the comforts of LA. False people living false lives in the lap of luxury."
"I find most people to be false," I said, venom in my voice. "In one fashion or another. Why not be comfortable doing so? And without snow."
Nosferatu walked up. Well, if I had to describe it it would be more like glided. A single fluid motion that was wholly unnatural. For all intents and purposes, he looked exactly as the movie portrayed him. Bald head, pointed ears, long fingers with long nails, and sharp, long teeth. His particular form of vampirism left him and his sect completely unable to fit into society, a fact made even worse after the release of the movie brought him into popular culture. Considering how old he was rumored to be, it's amazing it took so long for him to become known.
Nosferatu's attention immediately turned to Danielle, who he looked up and down with his head held back, as if she was beneath him. "Leave us."
I could feel the tension grow instantly. As if the air suddenly snapped tight around the four of us. Danielle didn't move, she simply locked eyes with Nosferatu, her expression steely. I must say I was impressed. Even I found it hard to hold that freak's gaze.
"Remarkable," Janus laughed, attempting to cut the tension. "Where on Earth did you find this one, brother? I like her!"
"It's a long story," I said, my words dark. I reached out to take Danielle's hand and brought it to my lips. "Please excuse us, my dear. I'll rejoin you soon."
Nodding her head slightly toward me, Danielle slowly walked back inside, never taking her eyes from Nosferatu's until the last moment when she turned back to the party.
"You would do well to teach her some manners!" Nosferatu barked, clearly upset at the insult. His accent was close enough to German to be recognizable, while containing strange quirks I surmised were from times long ago.
"Danielle has excellent manners," I said, looking into the monster's eyes only long enough to make my point. "When she is offered the same."
For a moment it looked like Nosferatu was going to respond, but my brother stepped in. "Enough, Xarus. Nosferatu. We are not here to spar."
"Yes, why are we here?" I asked.
"You know," Nosferatu spat, his voice deep and gravely. "The numbers of turned vampires in your domain have risen at a drastic rate."
"Mmm," I nodded, appearing to contemplate the situation. "Well yes, that's true. But it is still well within acceptable numbers."
"We decide what is acceptable," Janus said, his tone final.
"Yes, the Council does. And I and my people have not exceeded the numbers dictated by the Council's decrees." A laugh burst out of me suddenly, taking the two men aback. "Is this it? You 'invite' me all the way out here to threaten me over following the rules?"
Nosferatu stepped in close. He stood a good six inches taller than I, and looked down his nose at me. "We brought you here to make sure you weren't doing something stupid!"
Janus, ever the peacemaker, put his hands in between us and gently separated us. "We have concerns about your intentions, brother. Legate has suggested that you're gathering an army..."
I snorted. "I'm surprised Legate can count so high."
"...for war," Janus finished. His eyes were hard. Cold. We were brothers, but there was no love between us. He was almost two centuries older than I. His history with our father was as rocky as my own, but he was close to him at the end. It allowed him to swiftly seize power, both control of the Mystikos Sect and unspoken control of the Council itself. While I was left as merely a Regent. Quite an accomplishment for one so young, but to most simply a perk of my heritage. Not something earned.
I took a moment to respond. I eyed up both of the men before me, taking in their accusations. Their presumption. They had nothing. This entire party was an elaborate attempt to scare me. Had they the slightest shred of evidence to support their accusation I'd be up on charges faster than the sun rises. I'd been careful. They had nothing.
"I resent your accusation, brother," I said through clenched teeth. "I have ever been loyal to our family, our Sect, and this Council. Should you continue to suggest otherwise, then I would see you in the dueling ring."
For a moment I thought Janus was going to take me up on my offer. I could see the hatred in his eyes. The rage boiling beneath the surface. Like a starving predator just waiting to pounce upon it's prey. Then, as if a cloud passed over his face, it was gone. The politician remained.
"Perish the thought," Janus smiled, placing a hand upon my shoulder and leading me back toward the party. "We simply needed to be sure. A sudden increase in population can lead to all sorts of...issues. We must be vigilant against all possibilities."
"I am perfectly capable of running my house," I said, shrugging off his hand. "I suggest you focus on your own. Good evening."
Danielle was waiting patiently for me. I stalked away from my brother and Nosferatu, took her arm in mine, and headed for the elevator. When the doors finally closed in front of me, a smile crept upon my face.
They're frightened.
I could feel Abigail shaking when we finally pulled into the warehouse. My hands were warm and sticky, her blood having oozed in between my fingers.
"Abby needs help!" I shouted as Eric, Hannibal, and Whistler walked up to greet us. My voice was hoarse and, despite myself, I was unable to stop it from quavering. "She's hurt!"
I got an elbow to the ribs as a thank you for my concern. Abigail knocked me off the motorcycle. I hit the concrete floor on my back, the wind knocked out of me.
"I told you not to call me that," Abigail said, barely a whisper. She slowly got off the bike, a hand clutched to her stomach.
"Let me see," Whistler ordered, walking up to Abigail and moving her hand aside. He grunted as he inspected the wound, then looked up and said, "Is that it? That's nothing! Talk to me when you gotta hold your own guts in with one hand while fighting off a nest of vamps with your other."
Whistler kept prattling on about old wounds and how easy "kids" had it nowadays as he took Abigail off to tend to her. Even though I could only see the back of her head, I knew she was rolling her eyes.
"How you doing down there?" Hannibal asked, extending a hand out. I coughed and held my blood covered hand up. He saw it and frowned, stepped over, and helped me up by grabbing my shoulder instead.
"You guys set me up!" I barked through shallow breaths.
"You damn right," Eric said, his arms folded in front of him.
"You used me as bait!" I screamed, moving into Eric's face, anger giving me more courage than sense.
Fortunately for me and my health, Eric responded with a smile. "We tried to help you. You refused. You're lucky we were watching you at all."
His words cut through me like a hot knife. They had offered to help me. I wouldn't believe them. I couldn't. How could I have accepted the truth? Vampires? After me? It threatened to destroy my whole world. So I'd walked out.
Eric's smile faded into an unusual look. Almost like concern. He placed a hand on my shoulder and said, "Now that we're on the same page, we can get started figuring out why they're after you."
"Whatever they're reason," Hannibal said, pointing me toward a sink across the warehouse. "It's big. They risked revealing themselves to get to you. Fighting open in the streets? This is major."
I headed toward the giant metal sink and started to do my best to wash Abigail's blood off myself. Some of it had dried onto my skin, forcing me to scrub hard to get it off.
"Have you turned anything up?" Eric asked from behind me.
"Nah," Hannibal heaved a sigh. "I can't find any vamp connections in his past. No known associates either. I'm looking into his parents now. Maybe something they stirred up. Maybe something they owed the vamps."
"My parents would never deal with those things!" I shouted, spinning around and splashing water on the two men when I swung my hand around for emphasis. "Uh...sorry."
"Believe me, we don't always know our parents as well as we think," Eric grumbled. He looked down at the floor and I could see his jaw muscles flex as he ground his teeth.
"Either way it's all we got for now," Hannibal said, griping the bridge of his nose in two fingers.
I looked back and forth between the two men. Both were lost in thought. Lost being the operative word. They had no clue what was going on. Why I was being hunted by vampires who wanted to kidnap me rather than bite me. I got the urge to walk out again, take my chances on my own. I could trust myself at least.
I looked over to the far side of the warehouse and saw Whistler stitching Abigail's abdomen, a cheap bottle of brandy her only painkiller. She seemed to sense my gaze and looked up to meet my eyes. They were determined. Certain. She clenched her teeth against a sudden sharp pain and then took another swig from the bottle.
"Jesus Christ," I whispered, resigning myself to the situation at hand. Eric and Hannibal looked up and watched me while I walked over to the mini fridge next to the sink, grabbed a bottle of beer, walked back over to the ugly green chair I woke up in last night and started chugging.
"Just make yourself at home," Hannibal said in a frustrated tone. "Want to put your feet up?"
I pulled the half empty bottle back from my lips and took a deep breath, leaning back and closing my eyes. "Hey I'm the guest of honor. I need you guys to stay alive, I get that now. But you need me and you have no idea why. All you know is your enemies want me. So if we're going to be bunkies for a while, I might as well get comfortable."
"Not too comfortable."
My eyes shot open as the beer bottle was ripped from my hand. Abigail raised it to her lips and threw the empty brandy bottle in a trash bucket. Her wound was covered in a bandage and taped up. "So what now?"
"I got no idea," Hannibal sighed. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket, took two out, lit them both in his mouth and handed one over to Whistler. "Best I can figure is we start knocking some heads. Take out some nests and get some vamps to squeal. Someone's gotta know what the deal is."
"Whatever this is, it's high up," Eric explained. He had a dagger in his hands and was using the point to clean his fingernails. "Only one of the Council could get away with attacking openly like that. Anyone involved is going to be more afraid of them than us. No one's going to talk. Even if we found someone who knew."
"She'll know."
The room turned to look at Whistler, who was staring down at the floor and taking a long drag from his cigarette. Finally I broke the silence, "She? She who?"
"Blaire," Abigail spat, distaste in her voice.
"Allison Blaire?" I asked, receiving slight nods from Eric and Hannibal in response. "The disco queen? Why would she know?"
"Anything happens in Chicago, Allison knows," Whistler said.
"And she'll tell us?" I asked, still confused but playing along.
"She'll tell me," Whistler replied before turning to hobble off. Abigail threw the empty beer bottle into the trash so hard I could hear it shatter, then stormed off in the opposite direction.
"Ooookay," I whispered, feeling incredibly awkward. I could see Hannibal felt the same, but Eric seemed unconcerned.
"All right then," Eric said, finishing off his nails and sheathing his dagger. "Gear up. Night's young. Next stop, Dazzler's."