Blood Sacrifice: Vampires of Blood and Bones

by B. A. Stretke

  Blood

  Sacrifice

  Vampires of Blood and Bones

  Vol. 7

  By. B.A. Stretke

  Copyright © 2020 by B.A. Stretke

  Published by Superiorland Publishing

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person (living or dead), place, or event is purely coincidence.

  PROLOGUE

  “I found a replacement for Sheriff Korbin,” Ismael interjected off subject. “He’s a former military man, special forces, and comes with impressive recommendations.”

  “Vampire or shifter?”

  “Hellhound.”

  Louis set his glass aside and gave Ismael his full attention. “That is marvelous. I haven’t come across a hellhound in centuries. When do I meet him?”

  “Tomorrow at two.”

  “Just marvelous.” Louis gave him a calculated look as he turned and gazed out over the sprawling landscape. “Did you give Korbin his notice?”

  “Silas, accompanied by the Mayor, delivered it on Monday. I included a generous severance package, not because he earned it but because I would prefer no spectacle involved in this replacement effort.” Ismael stretched and leaned back in his chair. “His incompetence was almost too far-reaching for it to have been unintentional. I have a bad feeling about Arlo Korbin. I think we may come to regret just letting him walk away.”

  …

  The former Sheriff of Isabella County Arlo Korbin cleaned his desk and packed his things early in the morning when the office in Mt. Pleasant was bare except for one deputy and the receptionist. He didn’t feel like goodbyes or explanations or talk of any kind actually. He was done, and he wanted to be out of there.

  Miriam, the receptionist, tried to catch him up in conversation, but one look had her scurrying back to her desk. If his men had done their fucking jobs and kept their heads about them instead of going belly up to DuCane, none of this would have come about. Now, apart from Deputy O’Reilly, who was one of DuCane’s men, the Sheriff’s department would have all new staff, including a new Sheriff.

  He slammed out of the office and threw his things into the back of his truck before flooring it and spinning his wheels as he left the parking lot. It was juvenile, but he didn’t care. He was done caring about a lot of things.

  “DuCane thinks he can just give me the boot like some piece of trash, but he’s going to learn otherwise. He has no idea what’s in store for him.” Korbin grumbled as he drove down Main.

  On his way out of town, he dropped a letter into the slot out front of the post office and drove away. It was addressed to the Federal Building in Detroit. “Fuck this town and fuck DuCane. I never liked it here anyway.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  Agent Theo Hawke boarded a small plane in Detroit early Monday morning, it would take him to his next assignment in the small city of Mt. Pleasant. It was located just under three hours north of Detroit in Isabella County, one of Michigan’s more rural counties. After getting seated, he pulled out his note pad and reviewed the main points he’d recorded from the meeting he had this morning with his superiors.

  He always took notes in shorthand so that his information and thoughts could remain somewhat private to the idle onlooker or snoop. Shorthand was grossly out of style, archaic even to some, but Theo found the skill beneficial for its speed, and if nothing else, it gave him an added sense of security.

  His grandmother had been the private secretary to an Army General for over forty years, and she’d taught him the skill when he was just a child. It had come in handy on several occasions throughout his life and career.

  He glanced around the plane and noticed it was about half full. The plane would land in Mt. Pleasant and then proceed to Traverse City further North. He wondered idly how many were going on to Traverse. He loved Traverse City with its lakefront and chic storefronts. It was a beautiful and welcoming town, and he’d vacationed there several times.

  He wasn’t as familiar with Mt. Pleasant, which was a small city in the middle of a rural county that tended to keep its own company to a large degree. There was one family business there that seemed to overshadow the entire area. DuCane Industries, owned by Louis DuCane, was a broad title that encompassed everything from finance to shipping and small business operations. It was an organization that employed what looked to be thousands and was ultimately run by just one man, Louis DuCane.

  He had been an enigma for years with the secrecy of his business and the fact that it was not public. The DuCane family had operated it for what seemed decades. Nothing illegal or out of place was ever detected, but the fact that the family and business were so private made for a mystery and a desire to see what was behind the wall. Now they had their chance. The agency wasn’t taking the complaint that serious, but it gave them cause to get a look inside DuCane’s inner sanctum, so they sent Theo to investigate.

  The letter of complaint they received was not signed, but it was believed to have been sent by someone who had worked in the Sheriff’s office in some capacity. The claims made in the letter were fantastical, to say the least, but there was enough truth and possible corroboration for some of the assertions that a Federal case could be opened, and he was assigned to check it out.

  His first stop after checking into the motel room he reserved would be the Sheriff’s office. Apparently, they went through a top to bottom shake up a few months ago and hired a completely new staff. The records hadn’t shown anything so damning as to have warranted such sweeping action, but records were easy to falsify.

  He closed his notebook and dropped it back into his pocket as the plane began to take off. They hired a new Sheriff just a few weeks ago, although the new deputies have been on the job for a couple of months. Apparently, Sheriff Korbin was given a chance to improve but failed to meet their standards. He would review the records and see what comes up. Regardless, the accusations of murder, coverup, paranormal creatures, vampire covens, and disappearing corpses should keep him busy for a day or two.

  …

  Ismael was having a late dinner with his beloved, Easton, and enjoying the night when his phone rang. It was Silas, so he answered rather than letting it go to voice mail. There were only two people that he would allow to interrupt dinner with his beloved, and they were Silas, his son, and Louis, his master.

  “Hello, Silas.” He looked over at Easton apologetically.

  “I just got word that a Federal Agent is on his way here to Mt. Pleasant to investigate the Sheriff’s department. He should be arriving by mid-week. Someone made a complaint, and apparently it was enough to warrant an investigation.” Silas told him and waited.

  “Arlo fucking Korbin, no doubt.” Ismael hissed and abruptly stood. “Meet me at Louis’ quarters. I’ll alert him that we’re coming.” He closed the call and apologized to Easton for the disruption.

  “I’ll try not to be long, sweetheart.” He said as he kissed him and left the room.

  They were met at Louis’ door by Louis himself. He swung the door wide and exclaimed. “Fucking Korbin.” He then bid them to enter, and they followed him to the large living area of his quarters where Silas and Ismael sat together on one of the oversized sofas. “Ezra is sleeping.” He said as he poured whiskey for himself and Ismael. Silas declined the offer. Louis handed the drin
k to Ismael and then sat across from them.

  “What do you know about this agent?” He asked Silas.

  “His name is Theo Hawke, and he’s from the Detroit office of the FBI. According to our source, they received an anonymous letter postmarked interestingly the same day that Korbin packed up and tore out of town.” Silas looked at both Ismael and Louis, but neither was surprised by the coincidence.

  “He’s young only twenty-eight and has been assigned to the Detroit office for the past three years. He has a degree in engineering from Stanford. He comes from a middle-income family and went to University on an academic scholarship. He’s no slouch and is very good at his job from what I was told. They say he has a penchant for seeing what others don’t.” Silas finished.

  “It’s been a long time since we’ve had to deal with the government.” Ismael lamented.

  “Yes, it was in the early forties not long after they changed their name to the Federal Bureau of investigation. Some horseback riders trespassing on my property inadvertently stumbled onto some of my men feeding. They weren’t discovered in time and had managed to alert the authorities who brought in the FBI.” Louis took a long sip of his whiskey. “We were able to contain it all with mind control and magic, but I doubt it will be so easy this time.”

  “I agree.” Silas joined and handed Louis a copy of the letter that was sent to the Bureau. “There are more than just vampires in that letter. It alleges murder for hire, criminal cover-ups with the aid and knowledge of the local authorities, evidence tampering, unreported violent deaths, shapeshifters, and all manner of the paranormal. He didn’t leave anything out.”

  “I should have killed him as you advised rather than letting him leave.” Louis addressed Ismael as he sat forward with his forearms on his thighs and stared down at the glass of whiskey in his hands. “Remind me of this moment next time I feel forgiving.” He added, and Ismael nodded curtly.

  “Alright, we need to get out in front of this because Agent Hawke doesn’t sound like someone who will be easily dissuaded. We can’t simply wipe his mind since too much information has already gone too far. We need to discredit the accounts and devalue the evidence until the case is closed.” Louis stood and walked over to the large window that looked out over his gardens.

  “Convince him that Korbin is crazy?” Ismael interjected.

  “Yes, crazy, disgruntled, whatever sticks. The fact that Korbin wove the paranormal in with the other allegations will naturally weaken his credibility, so we work with that. We need someone on the ground watching Agent Hawke and neutralizing threats as they arise.” Louis was putting a plan together.

  “We need someone skilled in all the ways of information suppression, a cleanup man or fixer. Willing and able to do whatever needs to be done. Someone with the ability to second guess and stay ahead of disaster.”

  “Are you thinking about General DuFort?” Ismael asked with interest.

  Louis turned from the window to regard him directly. “Yes, Bastian DuFort and his team. Bastian will be our point man in this.”

  “He’s finishing up his assignment in Toledo. The coven there has been set to right, and new leadership with loyalty to Coven DuCane has been put in place. His last report showed stability and productivity have been re-established there.” Silas added to the conversation.

  “Good, bring him home, and brief him on the situation,” Louis ordered.

  …

  Bastian DuFort, also known as the “General,” having served under Louis DuCane for centuries going back to their time in France and before the formation of Coven DuCane, stood surveying the men before him. These were the soldiers he and his team had trained and prepared over the past year to take over the security of the Toledo Coven.

  They included a distinct subset of guards that were trained specifically to protect the leadership. Chain of command had been established and was being adhered to, so all that remained was to hand over control to their new commander and for Bastian and his team to go home.

  He’d receive a communication this morning from Silas, instructing him to return as soon as possible. Indicating another assignment in the offing. Louis had been flexing his muscle as of late, and the services of cleanup and organization were becoming essential. He and his team hadn’t been this busy since Louis first conquered Michigan, and it was refreshing to see Louis once again commanding the lands. This was a time for Louis to expand his power, and land was power. Bastian looked forward to the next overthrow and annexation.

  He finished the review and informed his team they would be leaving that evening for Mt. Pleasant. “Pack up and be ready. We leave at six.” He told them and headed to his temporary quarters located on the first floor off the library. The Toledo coven was modest in DuCane terms, but for the common man, it was quite impressive with many old-world amenities and considerations.

  The gardens here were in poor condition and needed several years of care and upkeep to bring them back to adequate. They needed a dedicated gardener and team of landscapers, but that would be the decision of the new command. Bastian loved the gardens of Coven DuCane and looked forward to experiencing them again. A man could lose himself in those gardens for hours. They offered beauty, tranquility, and silence to restore the soul and sharpen the mind.

  …

  “A car was sent to collect General DuFort from the airport. He should be arriving within the hour.” Ira reported to Ismael who, in turn, contacted Louis with the information.

  “Bring him to the solarium we’ll conduct our meeting there. The solarium will afford a relaxing backdrop as we outline his new assignment.” Louis instructed. “Let me know as soon as he arrives.”

  “I will.” Ismael closed the call and turned his attention to Silas. They were seated in one of the first-floor parlors having a cup of coffee and discussing the situation at hand.

  “Agent Hawke is booked on a plan in the morning out of Detroit and will arrive before noon. He has a room reserved for one week at the Skyline Motel on Lafferty.” Silas told him with a curious expression. “Why the Skyline?”

  “He wants to immerse himself in the community,” Ismael said and then added. “The Skyline is middle of the road when it comes to accommodations in Mt. Pleasant. It’s neither good nor bad, it just suits its purpose. It will give him an average picture of this town, which is what he’s after, I suspect.”

  “He wants to gauge the credibility of Korbin’s complaints by understanding the average citizen.” Silas put forth. “If that’s the case, we may be in a better position than we first thought. There has always been great care taken in maintaining our anonymity within the community at large. Even when Deputy Lawrence went berserk, and Ira put him down in the middle of Main Street, we managed to contain the fallout. Everyone present was cleared, no memories remain.”

  “That we know of,” Ismael interjected with a skeptical lift of his eyebrow. “We thought the incident with Easton at the restaurant was contained until the day we discovered Eddie Boone retained his memories.”

  “True, very true.”

  “We cannot let down our guard, as you said, Agent Theo Hawke is nobody’s fool.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  The plane landed in Mt. Pleasant at eleven forty-seven, and the sun was high in the sky. It was a lovely late summer day with mild temperatures and a light cool breeze. Theo gathered his bags and headed to the counter to rent a car. He would need reliable transportation since his investigation would, in all probability, take in more of Isabella County than just Mt. Pleasant proper. The DuCane estate was located approximately twenty miles to the East of the city, but its exact location was rather vague. In all his research, he only managed to determine an area, not an address, but that wasn’t unusual.

  People like Louis DuCane often hide or disguise the location of their private homes. He would have the police accompany him when he made that visit. If the authorities don’t know where he lives, then there’s a problem.

  He drove into town, taking in the
area noticing that it looked like every other small city in lower Michigan. He glanced at the gas stations and the grocery stores and the small shops and wondered where the paranormal lore had come from. What was it about this town that caused someone to make such fantastic allegations?

  Now, if these things were alleged to be happening in the Upper Peninsula, then he might give it more credence. He’d only been up there once to investigate a murder on Tribal lands, and it was an experience. That place was mysterious with a side helping of spooky. So rural that at times it gave you the impression the entire peninsula was vacant. It’s a harsh land up there but beautiful, and he would not be too surprised if there were a coven or a pack of shifters existing somewhere within the massive forests.

  He continued through town and made eye contact with a few people as he drove down Main Street and found nothing out of the ordinary. They were probably used to strangers passing through, considering they were just off a major highway.

  He pulled into the Skyline Motel just after one and noticed several cars in the lot. Many of the plates were from out of state, but not all. He drove up to the office and parked. It was advertised as clean, affordable, and within walking distance to the heart of town. It was also nondescript and would hopefully give some insight into the locals as he moved among them. There was nothing like checking into the best hotel in town to immediately make you suspicious, especially if it gets around, which it will, that he works for the FBI.

  He was given the key, an actual key, to room twenty-seven, and with very few words was sent on his way. The young woman at the desk was not dismissive or even rude, just very efficient. Room twenty-seven was as expected, clean, minimal, and slightly outdated.

  …

  Bastian stood in the shadows and looked out his window at the man entering room twenty-seven. Shelly from the front desk called and alerted him that the Agent had arrived and was going to his room. Bastian had two members of his team accompany him on this assignment, Terence and Rawl, and they were staying together in room twenty-six.