The Veiled Monarch

by Shae Bryant

  He leaned over, placing his hand on one knee, "Leo. You are both in college. If you work and try to make your classes, you will be exhausted. I think Brian and Erin will both agree the two of you should focus on studies first."

  "I can't disagree with him." Erin nodded.

  "So, are you saying don't move in?" Chloe looked confused.

  "No." Vince shook his head, "I'd like to pay for your bills. After the two of you come work for me. There is plenty to be done at The Veiled Monarch. You can both do work on your own time and be paid a fair wage for the work you do. But, you both must stay in college. If you leave your classes, this arrangement will be null and void."

  Leo scratched his head, "This doesn't sound too bad."

  "That's so nice of you Vince. Thank you." Chloe gave him a grateful smile.

  Everything was turning out perfect. There was no better way to celebrate than to raid Vince's wine cellar. "This sounds like it's time for wine!"

  Vince raised a finger in protest, "You drink more of my wine than anyone has in a century."

  "That will teach you to be with someone who breathes." I grinned.

  There was mail laying on the kitchen counter. Vince had gotten a letter from someone. The envelope was brightly colored and stamped with a greeting card company logo.

  "Hey Vince?" I looked over the envelope, "Someone sent you a card."

  Vince turned around, "A card? Who is it from?"

  "There's no return address. The postmark says Virginia." I turned the card over, trying to find more information.

  Vince tore open the envelope and produced a very cheerful birthday card. I could not see the card, but whatever was written inside of it caused Vince to furrow his brow and let out a quiet, "Hm..."

  "It's not your birthday." Leo looked confused.

  Vince shifted in the chair, "Yes it is."

  Leo and I both stared at him, "I thought your birthday was in January?"

  "No." Vince shook his head, "I haven't celebrated my birthday in a long time. Today is my actual birthday."

  "Oh." I kissed his cheek, "Happy Birthday."

  Vince tried to smile at me, but his attention went back to the card, "Only one person knows when my birthday is. And they are dead."

  Once everyone had left, Vince and I were once again in our favorite spot. An over-sized cushioned chair near the pool. Normally, we sat here and talked until I was too tired to remain awake. I'd drag myself to bed and Vince would follow after the sun rose.

  Tonight, he sat there with his arm absently draped over my stomach. His eyes were looking out onto the waterway, but they were so much further away than that. He looked almost sad. Perhaps some memories of the past had somehow moved to the front of his mind.

  "Hey?" I smiled at him, "Are you that upset we found out it's your birthday? I promise I won't buy five hundred candles to put on your cake."

  He didn't find the attempt at humor funny at all. Vince pursed his lips and frowned at me, turning his head away. "It isn't that. I don't mind that you know."

  "What? Leo?"

  "No. I got a letter two days ago."

  "Oh? Was it from Anika?" Anika still preferred old-fashioned letters to emails or phone calls. She had been in Europe for quite awhile, and she had written often.

  Vince shook his head, "I don't know who it was from. Like the card, it was postmarked from Virginia."

  "What did it say?"

  "It was an apology for Constance."

  That was a name I had only heard once out of his mouth. Constance was the name of his wife who died at the hands of Faulkner. Centuries later, and he could barely say her name without feeling the pain of her loss.

  "The letter..." Vince continued, "Said that they were sorry about Constance and urged me to leave my anger in the Black River Marsh."

  "The what?"

  "It's a place near my old home in Virginia."

  I frowned, "This doesn't make any sense."

  "No it doesn't." Vince agreed. He stayed quiet for a minute, watching me absently pet Brutus. "Raina. You have something on your mind as well."

  "Yeah. I do. I think I want to hand things over to India."

  Vince glanced at me, "Is there a reason for it?"

  "I'm no good as a leader. She does a better job. Anytime I need help. Anytime I need to field questions or make plans, India is the one to do it anyway. And..." I paused, "She wants to get some things situated. Things I didn't even think about."

  "Such as?"

  "The child from the Everglades. She wants the Veiled Monarch to look into it. He's slipped through the cracks, Vince. And the Druids are all angry about it. They have every right to be."

  Vince thought about that for a moment,"Hm. You are correct. With so much happening, we have had the young boy in the back of our minds, but never where he should be. I think it's time we searched for him."

  I leaned back against him with a loud sigh, "I should have given it to her a long time ago. We're all going to be better off for it."

  "As long as you are happy with the decision."

  "I will be...hey?"

  Vince raised his eyebrows, "Hm?"

  "Does anyone know about your birthday except Faulkner?"

  He shrugged, "Hannah does, but she already called me. She wouldn't send me a card like that."

  "No one else?"

  "Not that I can think of."

  I chewed on my lower lip with a frown, "Hm..."

  "Your Detective mind is running again." Vince smiled at me, "Don't worry about it, dear."

  But, I was worried about it and so was he. Both of us were very concerned that someone knew things about Vince from so long ago. Hannah may know when his birthday is, but she wouldn't know about Virginia. She and Vince didn't meet until he moved to Arizona fifty years after the incident happened.

  Anika and Louis had both been his friends for some time, but neither of them were born until after World War II. The only other person I could think of was Faulkner. Like Vince said, he was dead. Leo had told me every detail of how Vince killed him. They buried him under the palm trees.

  I rolled my shoulders, lying down next to him in the chair. Both of us were preoccupied with the letter and the card. He was trying to go through an index of old friends in his mind, thinking of who it could have been. I was worried someone else knew some very important things about Vincenzo Moretti. Whoever it was — they were trying to get under his skin. It seems they had done it.

  Anytime Catherine says she has a hunch, she is usually right. I should have listened to her when she said the Iron Oath had gone deep underground. Because she was right again. The remnants of the organization in the United States were operating in complete secret. They had a skeleton crew of officers and only two bases to work out of. Both of them were well hidden from the rest of society.

  Their European counterparts hadn't quite faced the ire of the Non Humans to the degree they had. The European Iron Oath had been quietly sending them supplies and money to make certain they continue to operate. Their plan was to grow again right under our noses and become a force to be reckoned with.

  All of this was headed by Jacob Stuart. He had managed to avoid capture thus far, and he was starting to feel invincible. Especially with his little pet being back in action.

  This was their secret weapon. It was the one thing the Iron Oath had that led them to believe every legend was true. There was some sort of magic deep inside of Non Humans. Something so wonderful and mysterious that the world had forgotten. They had found the first piece of the puzzle many centuries ago. Ever since then, they had been searching for the rest.

  Jacob sat down on a folding chair in something that looked like an underground bunker. All the walls surrounding him were cold concrete, lined with dim lantern style lights. Extension cords crisscrossed the floor, powering monitors, towers and a few contraptions that weren't familiar to anyone but them.

  He lovingly touched the item in his hand. A large hook of black glass connected to a thick coil th
at held some odd liquid inside. The contents of the coil seemed to almost move on its own — swirling around with various colors of red and gold that pulsed together and gently drifted apart. Below the coil was a rusted gear connected to a cloudy glass beaker. The beaker had been fused to the base of the coil in a very crude fashion.

  Jacob tapped on the coil and the contents inside rushed towards the bottom of the instrument. He smiled at the reaction, tilting his head towards the door when he heard the soft footsteps come near. Kristin walked into the room, placing something on the floor in front of him.

  "Here they are. Again."

  Jacob chuckled, "Here we go. Again."

  Kristin stared at the floor, clasping her hands together, "I hate watching this."

  "Then don't look." Jacob snapped.

  "It has to be painful!"

  "Of course it is." He laughed, "That's why I do it. And I'll keep doing it. Again and again. Until he learns."

  The gear in Jacob's hand turned slowly and the entire coil glowed a bright golden color. Red steam started to fill the glass beaker until it began to shake under the pressure. He turned the gear again, fusing both of the elements together until a viscous cloud formed on the strange hook in front.

  One single drop from the cloud fell on the ashes inside of the box on the floor. Then, a stream of red and gold liquid poured over the pile. The ashes began to bubble furiously, starting to form small shapes that stretched and slithered into the air. A face began to form and then a neck. The ashes rose higher as a body began to emerge from the boiling pile.

  A loud cry of pain echoed through the stark halls. He was balled up on the floor, grasping his head in his hands. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, and he moaned through gritted teeth.

  "Why can't you just let me die!?" He screamed.

  Jacob stood up, smirking at the crumpled heap in front of him. He gently nudged him with the toe of his boot, "Welcome back, Faulkner. Did you really think I'd lose you that fast?"

  "Why!?" He cried, "Why did you bring me back!?"

  "Because you aren't done yet." Jacob growled, "Now get up. You look ridiculous."

  Kristin knelt on the floor to help Faulkner stand, "I'm sorry."

  Faulkner winced, "How could you let him do this to me again?"

  "Because you still have work to do for us!" Jacob snapped.

  "What kind of work, Jacob? I've been here for months!" He sighed. The pain had subsided and now, he was starving.

  "Finish what we started! Vince Moretti thinks you're dead. He staked you himself."

  Faulkner rushed at Jacob, "It should have stayed that way!"

  "You idiot." Jacob rolled his eyes, jamming a stake into Faulkner's heart.

  Kristin stared at him with her mouth open, "Jacob!"

  "He should have known I had a stake on me." Jacob sighed, "I'm so sick of him getting away with everything. He's the reason we're in this mess. Everyone always said 'Leave him alone Jacob. Be nicer to him Jacob. He's on our side now.' Hrmph. Now look where we are."

  "Stop doing that to him!" Kristin shouted.

  He rolled his eyes, "Oh fine. Give it a minute to charge."

  The end of the device touched the pile of ashes. Immediately, it lit up like a flaming hot iron. The same red and gold liquid from before was pulsing its way into the coils. In a few minutes, the coils had been filled and the liquid moved around inside.

  Once again, Jacob turned the gear on the device, filling the beaker with the red steam until the odd cloud formed on the hook at the end. The ashes started to bubble again, forming the same shapes as before. Faulkner slowly rose from the pile. The first noise from his mouth was another cry of pain.

  "Stop it!" Faulkner demanded.

  Jacob waved the stake at Faulkner, "Listen or I do it again."

  "Jacob, no!" Kristin put a hand in front of him.

  He smacked Kristin's hand away, "There's no one left to tell me what to do anymore, Faulkner. I run things here in the States. You listen to me or it keeps going. Just like they did to you centuries ago. I will do it over and over again until you are left a babbling ball of pain. You don't want that again, do you?"

  "What do you want, Jacob?" Faulkner closed his eyes, leaning his head back in defeat.

  "Finish what you started." He pointed at Faulkner, "Get back to South Florida and get rid of Vince Moretti. Then, start getting rid of others. Work your way up the coast until we can call in help from Europe."

  "You want me to do that all on my own?"

  Jacob shook his head, "I expect you to call for help when you need it. But, you need to get revenge on the man who killed you. Don't you?"

  "I'll...see what I can do." Faulkner swallowed hard, leaning against the wall to help him balance.

  "Good." Jacob smiled, "Kristin can get you a flight."

  He walked out of the room, leaving Kristin to try to help Faulkner sit down, "I'm sorry. I hate it when he does that to you."

  "Just get me a donor and a flight to the UK." Faulkner groaned.

  "I have to be the donor. But, why the UK?"

  "There's a Vampire in the UK who can help me get close to Vincenzo. If I go to South Florida first, he'll know. I need some help." He pushed aside Kristin's hair eagerly accepting the offered neck, "I won't take much."

  "Take what you need and I'll get your flight arranged."

  Faulkner managed a smile, "Thank you."

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The Hook

  In the Countryside, Anika sat in the living room of her charming little cottage. She had been enjoying these last few months of garden parties, society gatherings, and evenings spent with old friends. Yet, the most pleasant evenings were the ones where she enjoyed a lovely book by the fireplace. Every so often, she would give the garden path a wistful sigh while she imagined being in far off worlds just like the ones in her book.

  Not a soul interrupted her reading save Kate, her wonderful housekeeper who bustled about the room, tutting and clucking at Anika like a mother hen. By this time in the evening, the sweet old woman had gone off to bed, leaving Anika to revel in her solace. Someone moved a glass in the kitchen. Anika raised her eyes towards the room. A shadow crept across the kitchen, and Anika smiled. Kate must have needed a glass of water.

  Anika tried to go back to her reading, but something was not sitting right with her. She shifted around in her chair, rolling her shoulders back to try to relax again. It wasn't like Kate to get up in the middle of the night. Anika felt she ought to go and see if the woman was doing well.

  As she sat the book down on the arm of the chair, Anika moved quick enough to hear a gust of wind. She whirled around to see a familiar face standing in front of the fire. Someone she wished she would never see again. Theodric Faulkner. The man responsible for her husband's death.

  Anika flew towards him with her fist raised in the air, "You! What are you doing here!? I thought you were dead!"

  "I was dead, Mrs. Hines." Faulkner caught her arm, pushing her backwards.

  Her eyes flashed with anger. "How dare you!"

  Faulkner grabbed the phone from Anika's hand, holding it over her head to keep her from snatching it away from him, "I am not here to kill you, Anika. Nor am I here to hurt you."

  "Good!" Anika balled up her fist, landing a smart punch on his jaw, "I'll kill you instead!"

  He closed his eyes, tapping on the mantle next to him, "Please. Give me a chance to talk. I came here to try to make amends. This won't end well for either of us if we..."

  "What are you playing at, Faulkner?" Anika interrupted him.

  "I need to speak to Vincenzo. You are the only person who will keep him calm enough to let me talk to him. I am asking you for your help."

  She narrowed her eyes at him, "You are serious. What exactly do you want from me?"

  "Can we sit down?" Faulkner motioned to the chairs, "It's a long story."

  Hours passed while Faulkner explained his past to Anika. The more he told her, the more she leaned in to listen. Th
is all could have been an elaborate lie, but not even Faulkner can make up something of this magnitude. Not only that, but he was pleading for her to help him. To help all of them.

  He had been attempting to send messages to Vince for the last two months, but Vince was either not receiving them or he couldn't understand. This was his last chance to get to him before Jacob Stuart did. If Jacob made it to Miami, they would all be in trouble. Jacob still had the ability and the willpower to make their lives a living hell.

  Anika agreed. They must go to South Florida and allow her to take him to Vince. But first, Vince needed to be prepared. The only way to do that was to go through those closest to him. She inwardly apologized to Louis, Catherine and Raina as she booked the flight and began to send some messages.

  While Anika and Faulkner slept in the UK, Vince was awake for the evening in Miami. He walked into The Veiled Monarch offices, holding his phone out to Louis. "Louis. I got a message that's rather confusing. What do you make of this?"

  Louis stared at the phone, "That's Faulkner's phone."

  "What?" Catherine wheeled over to them, "How? His phone should be gone."

  "So I was right?" Vince shook his head, "Does Stuart have it?"

  Louis typed some commands on his laptop, trying to trace where the message came from in the first place. The program was not completely legal to have, but it was certainly helpful in a case like this. He would at least be able to triangulate a general position of the phone and its owner.

  "That's weird." Louis pointed to the monitor, "It came from Inverness."

  "Anika's cottage is in Inverness." Vince remarked.

  "I'll call her." Catherine said.

  "She'll be asleep." Vince sighed, "Leave a note for Raina to speak to her first thing."

  It was early afternoon before I made it to the office. Vince decided to stay awake late, which kept me up as well. I picked up my messages from the two "new" faces at the desk. Leo and Chloe were both sitting at reception, rifling through a mound of papers and doing some data entry.

  "You two are on day shift, huh?" I chuckled, looking through the sticky notes attached to my binder.

  "We're between classes." Leo answered, "Oh hey. Anika called you. I told her I'd send her to your voice mail."