by E. M. Knight
“At least they haven’t fired yet,” Victoria murmurs. “Was this your brilliant plan, James?”
I ignore the provocation and turn my head to the humans. There are only four in open view of us, but obviously, there are others pointing these guns.
I expand my vampiric sense past them and find it meets an odd sort of… resistance.
It’s like there is a barrier five yards behind the men that is impenetrable to me.
I clear my throat. “If you didn’t hear me,” I begin.
“Oh, we heard you,” comes a gruff voice from my left.
Immediately, I spin that way. Only after I do, do I realize what a stupid move that was. A sniper with an itchy trigger finger would have every cause to shoot.
Luckily, none prove that eager.
I lay my eyes on the man for whom I had no warning of his presence.
He’s a rugged-looking fellow. A thick, black beard covers his jaw. His skin is the color of dirt, though I suspect that comes from a lot of time in the sun. He looks to be in his mid-forties, with a stocky build. There are more than a few scars on his face, including one long one along his cheek that looks like it was carved there by a knife.
His eyes are the most penetrating shade of green I have ever seen on a human. They might even rival Raul’s in the vibrance of their hue.
“How,” I begin.
He stops me with a raised hand. I squint at him, directing all my vampire sense his way, but he is… invisible to them.
“Let me guess,” he says. “You want to know why you and your friends cannot sense me. Well, I’ll tell you what. I’m not the only one you missed.”
On the word, the trees rustle around us, and at least thirty men emerge. Some lower themselves from the branches. Others step out from behind shrubbery and trunks.
But all of them, to the one, are absolutely imperceptible to my vampire senses.
Each one is also heavily armed.
“Usually, we kill any vampires we come across,” the green-eyed man continues. “But you three represent a peculiar case.”
He reaches into a duffle bag and takes out three awful-looking contraptions. Each is about the length of a lacrosse stick, and either end has a curved, cruel manacle. The entire body is coated with silver, although on the inside of the cuff is a circle of some odd black substance that my instincts tell me to fear.
He tosses the three objects to us. “You put these on,” he says. “Slowly. Or my men will kill you.”
From behind me I hear the sound of guns cocking.
“Do as he says,” I tell Smithson and Victoria.
Victoria reaches down and picks up the stiff metal thing. She winces as her fingers touch the silver.
“Don’t you worry,” the bearded man says. “The inside of those cuffs is lined with a special polymer that won’t let you feel any pain.”
She narrows her eyes at him and clamps the manacles shut.
As soon as they’re clasped over her wrists, she gasps. Her eyes go wide with terror. Her mouth moves, but no words come out.
And then, she utters, “I don’t feel the vampire in me anymore.”
The man beside us laughs. “That’s because the whole of your essence is now locked in something like a reservoir between your arms.” He picks up the cruel object simultaneously. I clamp the first cuff over my left wrist. I wait a moment, feel nothing, and then stick my right hand through the other side.
I hear a muttered curse escape Smithson’s lips as his cuffs are locked in place. “It’s gotten me, too,” he murmurs. “I’ve never felt anything like this.”
I wait for the sensation to take hold of me as I let the right side close… but nothing happens.
“Good,” the man says, unaware that the object he gave me is defective.
I am still in full possession of my vampire gifts.
My, what a boon this is!
“Men, you can lower your guns. We’re all on equal footing now.”
“You’re not going to kill us,” I say.
“No,” he agrees. “At least, not yet. I heard you claim you come in peace. You know who we are, so that intrigues me.”
“I’ve told you our names, friend,” I say. “But I don’t believe I’ve received the same courtesy in return.”
“You can call me Beast.”
“Beast,” I say, doing my best not to betray the insane desire I have to laugh. “That’s your name?”
“That’s what you can call me, James,” he says, stepping closer and putting his face just inches away from mine.
“Beast, it is,” I say, offering a wry grin.
The idiot is so full of himself he doesn’t know I could bare my fangs and rip out his throat, then use my speed to kill all of his men, even with their guns and with my hands bound.
But I will not give that secret away just yet.
“You came to us,” he repeats. “Presumably, for a reason. Now is a good time to tell me what that is.”
“My business is with the head of your organization, not with a hired gun who keeps guard.”
Beast makes an irritated sound from deep in his throat. “You be careful, vampire,” he warns, prodding me in the chest. “Everything is on our terms, here.”
“I gave you our reason for coming. We seek audience with your leader. Will you bring us to him, or is this whole ceremony just one big charade?”
Beast turns away. “Men,” he says. “Let’s go.”
The ones behind us take a few steps forward and push their assault rifles into our backs.
“March,” one of them says.
“Excellent,” I say, and start walking the way they guide us.
Smithson and Victoria look entirely out of sorts as we walk through the woods. I think it’s better for me to remain appearing unaffected. Not to give myself away, obviously not, but to make sure that “Beast” and his posse know that the leader of the vampires will not be intimidated so easily.
The only disadvantage I see now is that the reservoir in these cuffs completely nullifies any bargaining power I had with the ring.
But I would give that up a hundred times over, if it meant that I was the one given the defective manacles.
After a few minutes of a silent journey, the only noise being our combined footsteps over the forest floor, I speak up.
“So, Beast, tell me. How is it that none of us can sense any of you?”
He glances back, scoffs, then continues walking. “The vests we have are specifically designed to interfere with the electromagnetic waves that our bodies give off. They are what you vampires are able to sense in all living things. We’ve learned how to manipulate that.”
“Impressive,” I admit. I wonder if the vest is similar to the cloaking spell still wrapped around me.
“And how did you discover our coming?” Smithson asks.
“Are you kidding? We have sensors all through these woods. All through the town, all in the airfield. We’ve got the entire area covered and scanned. We were alerted to your arrival the moment your little plane landed.”
“Yet you didn’t come after us,” Victoria says. “Despite your organization’s purpose.”
“Trust me, girl,” Beast scowls. “If it were up to me, your whole crew of vampires would have been dead within five minutes of landing.”
“Luckily for us, you’re not the one in charge,” I say imperiously.
Victoria shoots me a warning look that says ‘don’t provoke him’, but I am not as awed by the Crusaders’ capacities as my companions are.
Still, we make the rest of the march in a dreary silence.
Up in the distance, I see light shining through the last row of trees. There’s a gravel path that leads through the trunks.
We reach it, as I look down the slope to find a spectacular sight.
The woods slope down into a great valley. It stretches out as far as the eye can see, acres upon acres of land. The trees have all been cleared away, leaving only the thinnest dusting of grass on the
earth.
That’s not what impresses me. The massive, single-story building in the middle of the ground is.
It’s only one story but the height is immense. It’s taller than an aircraft hangar, and made entirely of steel and glass. In a way, it reminds me a bit of the Pentagon, although much grander, and much more recently built.
There are military drills being run outside. I see hundreds upon hundreds of soldiers in formation with their guns and weapons. Some are going through an obstacle course, others are running around the track field to one side, yet others simply stand there, alert and on guard, protecting the fortress.
“Impressed yet?” Beast murmurs.
Then he starts down the hill.
We all follow. As we make our way down and through the other soldiers, I find very few of them giving us any attention. The most is an eye flicked our way here and there.
These men are very well-trained. Highly disciplined.
Beast leads us to a set of doors off to the side. He punches in a code on the electronic key panel and ushers us in.
His men remain outside.
We enter a very large, sparsely-furnished room. Three white leather couches stand in the middle. There is an ivory coffee table before them. A ceiling fan lazily spins, providing a tiny bit of air movement.
“You wait here,” he informs us. “Don’t be fool enough to try to escape. I’d hate to go against orders and have you put down.”
By the glimmer in his eye, I can tell he would like nothing more.
He sweeps a hand over the leather couches. “Make yourselves comfortable,” he says. “You might be here a while.”
He walks up to another paneled door, presses his palm against the scanner. The door lifts up, he walks through, and then it smoothly slides down.
“Well,” I look at my two companions. “We’ve made it inside.”
“You led us to our deaths!” Smithson snarls. “Do you think they have any intentions of letting us go? Look at this place! It’s a military complex!”
“And much, much grander than I expected,” I say. I walk up to the tall, glass wall, and look out at the men stationed outside. “This is a beautiful place.”
Smithson sputters. “Beautiful?”
“The architecture is very nice,” I admit. I look at my nails. “Very modern. I like it a lot.”
“Are you even hearing yourself?” Smithson demands. “All your plans have gone out the window. Do you think they’ll care one iota for the ring when they have these?”
He shoves his bound hands toward me.
“Oh, relax,” I say, plopping down on the couch. “You’re just jealous because the Crusaders have the Order beat.”
“And how,” he asks, in a dangerous voice, “do you figure that?”
“For one, this facility is much more impressive than your secretive, mountaintop one,” I say.
He scoffs. “You think that’s all we have?”
“Two,” I continue, ignoring his question, “these men are better trained than yours. I do not think Cierra would be able to do as much damage here as she did to your place.”
“You watch your tongue!” Smithson hisses. “Don’t you realize our conversations are being recorded?”
“Of course they are,” I say, voice dripping with disdain. “I haven’t said a single word I don’t want them to hear.”
Smithson shakes his head. “Just because I’ve sworn loyalty to you doesn’t mean I won’t speak up when you’re being a fool. And just now, you’ve left us stranded.”
“Let’s just wait and see who comes to us next,” I say. “Before we make any hasty decisions.”
The whole conversation, Victoria’s been staring at me with a perplexed look on her face. Finally, she wanders over, looks at me right in the eyes, and whispers under her breath, “You’re unaffected.”
I grab her arm. “You watch your tongue,” I say.
She shakes her head. “I spoke only loud enough that a vampire could hear.”
I release her. “Did you, now?”
“Yes,” she says in her regular voice. She glances at Smithson. “James did something magnificent.”
Smithson’s eyes narrow and then widen with understanding. “How?”
I shrug. “A faulty device,” I say, low enough not to be overhead by the recording devices in the room. “I got lucky.”
“No.” Victoria shakes her head. “That’s not it.” She reaches out, and presses a finger to my manacle. With a pained hiss she points back. “It’s working.”
“Then what?” I wonder.
Smithson’s eyes light up. “The spell,” he says. “The one that let you sneak up on me.”
I consider it for a moment, thinking about those specialized vests the humans have.
“It makes sense,” Victoria agrees. “If…” she drops her voice, “…if the manacles draw our essence, they need to have access to it. And yours is…” once more she lowers the decibels of her speech, “…cocooned away.”
Smithson’s eyes shift from me to Victoria. “So our situation is not as perilous as it might seem. Good. I’m glad something James did was of use.”
I shoot him a glare. “Don’t press your luck with me.”
“You have to understand,” Smithson says continuing right over me, “vampiric strength means nothing to these people. You could have come here with April and Sylvia and it would have been the same. You won’t be able to awe or threaten them, not while we have these on—” he hefts his arms up to demonstrate, obviously making a show of emphasizing our futility for the watchers, “—so you must truly hope these men will listen to what we have to say.”
“And what exactly would that be?” a booming voice asks, coming from the entrance that Beast walked through, behind us.
I turn my head and see the sort of man I would never expect to find here.
He must be four, five hundred pounds, made of nothing but lard. He sits in a very wide electric wheelchair. One of his arms hangs listlessly at his side, as if it’s broken. The other is on the wheelchair’s armrest, with fingers resting atop a joystick knob.
He pushes the knob forward, and the chair rolls toward us. The door silently slides down behind him.
I stand up. Smithson and Victoria are already on their feet, facing the man.
“Oh, sit, sit,” he gurgles. “I don’t like feeling as if I’m the shortest person in the room”
But you have no problem being the fattest, I think with a smirk.
He wheels over to us and stops about five feet away. He pushes the joystick control back, and forth, back, and forth, trying to find the spot he prefers best.
When he finally settles on one, he flashes his teeth in an indulgent grin. “Forgive my peculiarities,” he says. “I’m a big believer in Feng Shui.”
“Feng Shui,” Victoria says flatly.
“That’s right. The four of us have our life energies swirling in optimal health. In fact,” he pauses for a moment, “if you would be a dear and trade spots with your friend on the left, it would be much appreciated.”
I look at Victoria, shrug, and do as we’re asked.
“Marvelous!” the man pronounces. “That is just fantastic. That’s great. Thank you, for indulging me.”
“Forgive me,” I say, “but I’m not sure we know who you are.”
His eyebrows climb to the very top of his shaved head. His plethora of chins tremble.
“No?” he asks. “Well, that was very presumptuous of me, then. After all, I simply assumed that if three vampires, one of the Soren’s, one of The Crypts, and one of the Order, made the pilgrimage out to my humble abode, they would know exactly who they were looking at.” He leans forward, exerting an embarrassing amount of effort to do so. “But that’s wrong of me to assume, isn’t it?”
“Meaning no disrespect,” I say, as gently as I can, “but who are you?”
“My name is Melvin,” he smiles. “And I am the heir apparent of this tremendous organization.”
&nbs
p; “Heir apparent,” I say. “So that means you’re not in charge?”
“DON’T mock me, vampire!” he screams.
I hold my bound hands up. “I meant no offense.”
“You offend me with your very presence,” he sneers. “Your words can’t do much worse.”
“In either case, that is not my intent,” I assure him. “Smithson and Victoria and I are here to—”
“Father is dying,” Melvin bursts out. “He is an old man, crippled, pathetic, weak, sustained only by daily blood transfusions and the most advanced medicine. Even so, I would not give him more than a month. So you came at an opportune time. Any proposition you make, I am willing to entertain.”
I share a look with Victoria and Smithson, not quite sure what to make of this man.
“Very well,” I say after a moment. “I’ll tell you why we came. It was to—”
Once more I’m interrupted, as Melvin suddenly asks, “Would you like to see him?”
“See who?” I pose.
“See my father, the man to whom the Crusaders belong.”
“I’m not certain that would be entirely wise,” Smithson says slowly.
“Oh, baloney!” Melvin exclaims. “Come, come on, I’ll show you. Then you can see, and discover for yourselves that what I say is true,” he gloats. “You will see that I am set to inherit this whole empire.”
A more disastrous change of leadership for the Crusaders, I cannot imagine.
Melvin whirls his wheelchair around and zooms to the door. It opens without him even needing to use the handprint scanner.
“Come on, don’t dally!” he calls out in a singsong voice. “Hurry, precious vampires.”
“The man’s deranged,” Victoria whispers to me. “No ifs, ands, or buts about it.”
“We must be careful with him,” Smithson adds. “It’s clear he’s mentally unstable.”
“Quiet,” I bark. “Let’s see what he has to show us.”
I trail after the wheelchair out of the room, careful to make sure I walk at a normal human’s pace.
We catch up to Melvin waiting at the end of the corridor. “Finally,” he says, rolling his eyes. “I thought you’d never come.” He turns the wheelchair around. “Step quickly.”
Together, we follow him through the halls and common spaces of the complex. We pass a variety of rooms, all teeming with activity, and sealed away from us by floor-to-ceiling windows.
