Dark Tidings: Volumes I & II

by Gregory M. Smith

  “You see, groups like Moonrise are like the Marines, or police SWAT teams, or Special Forces. They’re tight knit, like family. I was the outsider, brought in by the leadership to add fresh blood, so to speak. At first, it was good because, as a stranger, people could open up to me and say things they wouldn’t say to friends. Then, it got bad. Real bad.”

  Kelly didn’t realize that she’d been holding her breath during the last explanation. She slowly let it up and drained almost the rest of her coffee to settle herself.

  “How come everyone thought you were dead?”

  “Laroux had a list of the people involved in the operation on his person,” Ryker said. “Incredibly stupid, of course. Another silly mistake. The FBI got hold of the list and my name was still on it, so, with the incident spread all over the news, I was officially dead. And I had to stay dead.”

  Kelly sat silently for several minutes. Ryker said nothing to break that silence. Instead, he went back to creating his plan on his computer.

  “You weren’t with the group during the operation?” she finally asked. “Where were you during that time?”

  “Nowhere,” Ryker answered, without emotion. “I got sidelined.”

  A knot formed in the pit of Kelly’s stomach. Easing herself out of her chair, she headed for the doorway. There, she ran flush into Marcus.

  “Oh, hey, Marcus,” she said.

  “Can you give us a moment?” Marcus asked.

  “It’s okay,” Kelly answered. “I was just leaving. Thanks for answering my questions, Cantrell.”

  “Cantrell,” Marcus announced after Kelly was gone. “We need to talk.”

  Chapter 14

  Marcus sighed when Ryker didn’t acknowledge him. He forced the issue, stepping into the room, and taking the seat Kelly had vacated. Ever the patient one, he simply whistled for what felt like an eternity.

  “Is there something I can help you with?” an irritated Ryker demanded. “I’ve got legitimate work to do.”

  “You can be a real asshole sometimes, Cantrell,” Marcus noted, sourly. “I just wanted to see how you’re feeling.”

  “You pointed a gun at my head,” Ryker snorted. “How do you think I feel?”

  “And you disrespected myself and Angelica,” Marcus shot back. “After we went out on a limb to sponsor you. I had half a mind to let Angelica break you off a new one, and, we both know she could have done it.”

  Ryker sat silent.

  “That’s right, Cantrell,” Marcus droned on. “Deal with a serious issue by acting like a child with the silent treatment. Let me tell you what I think. You spent so much time hiding, you lost sight of who your real friends are. Having to rely on no one but yourself, you had to become a killer. You couldn’t afford to make friends who might become targets of vampires, or, who might get turned and attack you. So, you kept everyone at arm’s length. Am I right so far?”

  Ryker was still silent, but he also stopped typing on his computer.

  “We didn’t just bring you in to the group for your experience, Cantrell,” Marcus continued. “We brought you in so you could get used to society again. If we’re to finally get the upper hand in this war, the days of hunters being loners has to end. But, to do that, we need people to cooperate and be team players.”

  Ryker started typing again. Marcus muttered under his breath. He’d tried. Pushing himself wearily to his feet, he walked out of the room.

  “You know what the hardest part about being on the run was?”

  Marcus stopped and turned around. He saw Ryker lift his head. There was no anger anymore, but the mercenary couldn’t quite put his finger on what had replaced it.

  “Not having anyone to talk to,” Ryker finished. “No friends, no family. You find yourself reacting to things, because one slip and you could suffer a fate worse than death. You anticipate it from everyone around you. Are they vampires? Are they human and, if so, are they freakin’ familiars? That’s why I wasn’t surprised when you pulled the gun on me. And, God help me, I was prepared to shoot, just to go down fighting, like I’d readied myself for every damned night I was on the run. That’s why I hate running.”

  Now, Marcus was the one at a loss for words. Why hadn’t he seen it before? Hadn’t he trained himself to look for adverse effects among his fellow mercenaries? Did he think it would be different in a highly civilized nation like America?

  Ryker was one of the toughest hunters he’d ever met. Yet, before all of that, he had been a Navy officer, not a warrior trained for combat, like a Marine. The war had been forced on him, made worse by the unflinching egos of Moonrise. And now, here in Fort Worth, the same conditions manifested themselves again, like he’d heard Ryker talking about before he’d interrupted.

  Even worse, Ryker had no one to turn to. At that, he thought about Angelica and was glad he had her. Dolores had Jesus. Horace had an eye for Jessie. But what about a man like Ryker, who feared making relationships when the next day could bring death or capture by the police?

  Just then, Kelly brushed past, forcing her way into the room. A stunned Marcus deduced she must have been in the hallway, listening as he had been doing during the earlier conversation between the two. She stopped and looked back him, with a mix of pleading and angry eyes.

  “Christ, Marcus, you’re the asshole, you know that?” she snapped.

  Before Marcus could answer, Kelly threw her arms about Ryker’s neck and shoulders. It was then the mercenary realized that Ryker was crying. After a moment, he watched Ryker grip one of Kelly’s arms, whereupon, she moved to one side and pulled his head against her body. She held him tightly, letting him sob uncontrollably even as he wrapped his arms about her and hugged her tightly.

  Feeling out of place, Marcus turned and left.

  Bartoli Kamarov hated his life. He’d been quite comfortable in his house when Aurelia Hernandez called. He would have hung up on her, had he not been certain of his life ending. Aurelia had kept him out of prison on a third strike, but could send him back to Huntsville in a second if he didn’t cooperate.

  Bringing the binoculars back up to his eyes, he looked over the edge of the roof upon which he lay. He instantly zeroed in on a small auto repair shop. It was nondescript and he wouldn’t have paid any attention to it, except, he hadn’t seen a single customer go in or out of the place. He’d been watching the place all morning and the only movement he had observed was from a burly man in overalls working under the hood of a sedan. At least, it appeared that the man was fixing it, Kamarov had not seen the mechanic – if he could be called that – taking anything out of the vehicle or putting any new parts in.

  “That’s interesting,” he said to himself. “Looks like Andujar actually earned his pay this time.”

  Kamarov had learned from one of his own snitches the auto repair shop had been open a few months, but no one in the area knew much about it. A man named Manuel Avecedo ran it, but only took special clients – who were always coming to the garage for repairs. Unless this Manuel was a piss-poor mechanic and those clients were incredibly naïve, something was amiss.

  Kamarov had once been one of the most trustworthy members of the Russian Mafia, until Vladimir Putin found it expedient to crack down on his bosses, right around election time. Kamarov fled to Miami. Joining up with the Russian mob there only to be become a guest of the state twice, –he had struck out on his own, working freelance to scout locations and individuals for discerning clients.

  He liked working for Aurelia. She might have been good at forcing confessions out of people, but she was a lousy detective. In less than half a day, he found out more about the people she was hunting than she had in a week. Of course, he had scores of associates who would never dream of talking to a cop. That was why she paid so well, to cover her deficiencies.

  And, Kamarov had to admit, he had no problems getting dirty, unlike the detective. He didn’t mind being on top of a dilapidated building. It gave him a great view of the garage. In fact, he could see the entire block an
d began to wonder about it. The fences that once separated the individual businesses had been taken down. Even more mysterious, the other three buildings besides the garage looked to be occupied, with lights on. Yet, he saw no one going in and out of them.

  “Finally, some business,” he said to himself.

  He watched a black SUV roll up to the gates of the repair shop. The gates rolled back to admit the vehicle and closed behind it. He continued to watch until the vehicle stopped inside the first garage bay. When the driver climbed out, Kamarov did a double take.

  “Ian Hendricks?” he gasped. “But, that’s Aurelia’s primary source. Well, well, well, this ought to be good for a big pay raise.”

  Kamarov knew Aurelia used Hendricks to find out things about people who did not like publicity. He also knew Hendricks was not unfamiliar with the supernatural, especially vampires. Kamarov still shuddered at the thought that vampires truly existed and was not anxious to meet any. That was his only condition when working with Aurelia – he would not work or meet with vampires.

  Back to the present situation, Kamarov could only deduce one thing. Hendricks was working both sides. He was a mercenary. Yet, Kamarov had to know who the other “side” was. He put away his binoculars and brought his telephoto camera up, snapping more pictures of Manuel, plus some new ones of Ian.

  “Who’s around?” Ian asked as he slammed his truck door shut. “Or all they all still packing?”

  “Jesus and Dolores are here,” Manuel answered, while stacking old tires. “So are Michael Lee and Jessie, of course. But, be careful what you say. Jesus is not really in a good mood.”

  “What else is new?” Ian joked, until he saw the serious look on Manuel’s face. “What happened?”

  “Well, you’d find out anyway,” Manuel answered. “Marcus got into a stand-off with Ryker. They were pointing guns at each other, amigo.”

  “Jeez, are you serious?” Ian asked, incredulous.

  “Somehow they didn’t shoot each other,” Manuel continued, carefully leaving out how he almost caused disaster by knocking over his toolbox. “But, then Ryker and Elvis got into it. Elvis went after Ryker and slammed him right into that stack of carburetors. Then, Ryker kicked him in the cajones. Elvis had to go to the hospital to get checked out this morning.”

  “Too bad I missed it,” Ian remarked. “You’d think Wesley would’ve pounded Ryker into a pulp. Cantrell certain had it coming in spades. Will wonders never cease? So, I’m guessing they won’t be in a mood to part with any money today?”

  “I would say no, amigo,” Manuel answered.

  “Well, nothing beats a try but a failure,” Hendricks countered, with a beaming smile. “Because, today, I might just have something that will cheer everybody up.”

  Ian went into the office. Manuel merely shrugged and continued cleaning up his garage.

  “You know why Dolores and I started the Hunters, Ian?” Jesus asked.

  Jesus sat in a rather large office, occupied by two cheap, battered metal desks. At least half the drawers were jammed shut but it did not matter. The Hunters’ operation was such that things might have to be abandoned in a hurry.

  Dolores occupied the second desk, carefully going through a stack of file folders. To her right was a medium-sized box in which she placed two of the folders. Jesus was at the desk closest to the door, while Ian had a heavily dented folding chair.

  “For personal reasons,” Jesus explained. “Our daughter, Evangeline, was turned and we had to kill her. We made it our life’s work to save others from that fate. I like to think we’ve made a difference. We made a dent. A family here. A master vampire there. Mostly in small towns. We’ve kept our group small to attract little attention but, I’m afraid that is all about to change.”

  Ian listened politely. It didn’t pay – literally – to be ungracious to someone paying the bills. In truth, as long as the cash flowed, Ian would possess the most attentive ears.

  “Doesn’t sound like anything’s changed, Jesus,” he commented. “In fact, it sounds like business as usual. Now, don’t take this the wrong way, but neither of you can honestly expect to keep doing this strenuous small-scale stuff at your ages.”

  Dolores stopped messing with her file folders and shot a dirty look at Ian. It did not last long, though, as the truth of Ian’s words hit home. She leaned heavily against her chair, contemplating things.

  “What would you recommend then, Ian?” she asked. “Maybe we overreached with such a small group. Maybe taking down Lin Tang is too monumental a task for anyone. How can we compete against a man like her boss, Riordan, who controls police like your so-called friend Aurelia Hernandez? He has enough clout making the victims of his underlings go away. He’s got an enforcer like Lin, plus hundreds of familiars spread out around the county that we have to account for. His headquarters is an armed fortress with a small heavily-armed protection force to guard it.”

  Ian repressed a sigh. This was not going well.

  “You wouldn’t be here for a mere social visit,” Jesus added. “So, amigo, tell me what’s on your mind?”

  Ian took a deep breath, held it for a moment and then let it out to steel his nerves. Standing up, he shed his coat and tossed it over the back of his chair. The weight of it nearly tipped the chair over, but Ian coolly stuck a foot out and caught the bottom crossbar. When he had set things right again, he looked at his benefactors.

  “Okay, let’s get the hard part over with,” he started. “I was a bit pissed you were leaving town, and, not just because of the loss of a reliable paycheck. Living in a town secretly controlled by vampires was a bit easier knowing the people, and means, existed to threaten that control. However, my mood was tempered by an interesting turn of events. A special project landed in my lap. I am doing witness protection with a woman named Diane Simmons.”

  Neither Dolores nor Jesus seemed to recognize the name.

  “She’s a half-dead,” Ian explained.

  The Montoyas recognized that.

  “Jesus Christo,” Dolores uttered. “Ian, are you crazy? Getting involved with a half-dead?”

  “You didn’t tell her anything about us, did you?” Jesus demanded. “Don’t you know from Kelly, Lin Tang keeps a tight rein on her half-deads?”

  “Relax,” Ian countered. “It’s not like she’s the leader of the half-deads. According to my people, she’s not even in the hierarchy. She’s just the numerical replacement for Kelly. But, we can still use her.”

  “And just how were you planning to do that?” Dolores queried.

  “Well, that’s why I’m here,” Ian admitted. “I’ve got a plan that just might work, but I’ll need your help. Normally, I know you’d use Marcus to do the particulars. In a pinch, maybe Elvis, but both of them are pretty busy with the logistics of the move. That just leaves Ryker.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Jesus corrected, giving Dolores a stern look that said not to contradict him. “Dolores and I were planning complicated missions long before he arrived. What is it you want us to do?”

  Ian smiled. His plan had worked. Who knew that Ryker would actually be useful? He mused. Brimming with confidence, he reached into a vest pocket and produced a small notebook.

  “Well, what I have goes something like this,” he said, as he laid his plan out.

  Chapter 15

  Lin Tang watched, impressed, as the vampires successfully navigated the obstacle course she’d set up for them at an old gun range in far north Tarrant County. It was pitch-black and yet they navigated the course with ease. Whenever enemy silhouettes popped up, they took them out with their shotguns, submachine guns or pistols. Only once did someone mistakenly take out a vampire.

  She’d gotten a vampire from each of the masters now allied with her boss. She hoped for at least two per clan, but understood the reluctance and skepticism. After all, she was trying to take fifteen huge egos and meld them into one unified ego that could, potentially, take on the best the Supreme Council had to offer.

  And
, that was her ultimate goal. She had no doubt the Council had hired humans to kill Duke and Kane to embarrass her master. The linchpin to discovering these humans was Ian Hendricks and, once he was in her clutches, she would bleed him for everything he knew. Then, she would sic her new enforcer squad on the Council and exact a bloody revenge. With that, she would also send a message, much as she had when she eliminated Kuster.

  “Very impressive,” she complimented, when the exercise had finished. “For a reward, you each get to hunt tonight. No corpses or converts, please, but you can have as many meals tonight as you want. Let us see if you can keep yourselves out of the news tomorrow.”

  The vampires cheered and went about their clean-up tasks. Lin Tang walked away from them, activating her earpiece to call Riordan. She gave him the good news and then made a separate call. She wanted information about Diane Simmons, who had been getting spotty in her performance lately. Lin had worked especially hard to develop the woman and didn’t need her flaking out.

  Can’t even control your own half-deads, can you? How can you expect these enforcers to trust you?

  “What news of our little detective?” Lin asked when she made the connection. “Yes, I see. That is good. Very good. I was getting worried. Activate the next phase.”

  She disconnected her phone and smiled, mischievously. It was time to reward herself with a night on the town. She just had to decide which of her new enforcers she would take to bed when the evening was over.

  Diane felt sick. She had done what Lin Tang had asked of her. She had pretended to be a witness to a crime in order to get next to Ian. She had discovered valuable information about him and his contacts. Yet, she sensed that Lin Tang was still not pleased and she worried herself sick. What more did she need to do?

  Sitting in Ian’s safehouse, being minded by another of his dykish assistants, she thought hard on what to do. After several fruitless minutes, she hit on something. Maybe she was being too one-dimensional in that, she always tried to use her stunning looks to get what she wanted. Maybe if she tried using her brain, she might accomplish her mission and get back in her master’s good graces.