by C. M. Cevis
Voice number three was the first to jump, lunging forward as if to grab Samson, who slipped just out of reach and jabbed out with his dominant hand, chopping the man in the throat. He fell back, coughing and holding his neck as he attempted to get himself together. The others two looked at their temporarily incapacitated friend, and then back to Samson, angry now.
“Come on, I haven’t got all night. If we’re going to do this, then let’s do this,” Samson said, motioning for the two of them to approach.
Voice number one came at him, almost roaring in his face as he approached and was promptly tossed up and over Samson’s head and into the street. A cab swerved to avoid running him over as he scrambled to his feet, staring angry daggers at Samson, who simply shrugged in response. He hadn’t asked for this.
Voice number two screamed and he stabbed something through Samson’s shoulder. Something silver and burning against his flesh. Samson turned and looked at the large, protruding hilt that looked to belong to some sort of dagger, whose blade was fully inserted into his body. Well then. Step one was getting that damn thing out of his shoulder since it stung like a bitch. Samson knew better than to simply rip the thing out, that was how you took a bad wound and made it worse. Instead, he gritted his teeth and pulled the blade out as slow as he’d dare with three shifters still circling.
That wasn’t going to heal like it would have if it had been a regular non-silver wound. For most vampires, that would have stopped them simply due to the pain that they were in since the wound would hurt, and the silver would cause it to sting as if it was being eaten away by some sort of slow-burning acid. It wasn’t that Samson wasn’t feeling those sensations, because he was. It was that he didn’t care, and his threshold for pain was pretty impressive. A bit of discomfort wasn’t going to stop him from teaching these little idiots a lesson.
The blade came free from his flesh with a grunt and a rather impressive arc of blood that he’d taken from someone else a few hours ago. Which meant that he needed some new blood to replace what he was losing, didn’t he? Samson leveled his gaze at the one that had the balls to stab him and gave the shifter a wicked grin, his eyes glowing a burning white-hot.
“Come here, puppy,” he growled, feeling the wolf inside of the three begin to back off on the animalistic instincts a bit. That normally happened when the animalistic part of them realized they were out of their element. “I won’t hurt you. Too much.”
Samson caught the stabber in strong arms that had no intention of letting go as he sunk his fangs into the side of his neck. He struggled against the bit, causing Samson’s fangs to rip and tear at the wounds. That was going to make this worse for him, but that wasn’t Samson’s problem. His concern was the other two that didn’t seem to know what to do with themselves. Samson let go of the stabber, who was sufficiently terrified, and smiled, blood on his lips.
“I’m still hungry,” he growled, licking his lips.
That seemed to be the end of their courage, and the three shifters ran off screaming into the night. Samson chuckled to himself and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, making sure that he hadn’t missed any of his meal elsewhere on his face. He wasn’t really hungry anymore, he’d just wanted to scare them. Instead, he slipped his handkerchief back into his pocket and calmly returned to his bags.
He shouldered the rather large duffel bags easily and changed directions, heading towards Maxim’s office instead of towards the condo. He was curious if this was a regular occurrence since the rash of high-profile murders, and when he had a question he preferred to have it answered sooner rather than later. He could settle in later tonight, once he and Max had gotten acquainted.
“Any chance any of you cab drivers wouldn’t mind helping out a vampire new in town?” he said softly. His eyes watched the four cabs stopped at the light on the other side of the intersection, and he smiled as one hit a U-turn in the middle of the street.
“Hop in,” The man said with a wide grin, getting out of the car to help him get his bags into the trunk.
“Thank you, I appreciate the ride.” Samson tossed one bag in as the driver took the other and tossed it in before closing the trunk.
“I can smell shifter blood on you, so I assume something happened. That’s not how we want new people to think of our city, regardless of what it might look like. I’m Malik, by the way,” the driver, a young African American vampire said, holding his hand out for a friendly shake. Samson took the friendly hand and grinned.
“Samson. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Malik.” The two men climbed into the car together, and Samson waited for Malik to turn on the meter.
“Where are you headed?” he asked.
“The Suzerain’s office,” Samson said, starting to give the address. Malik waved him off.
“I know where it is,” he said, putting the car in drive.
“You forgot to turn on the meter,” Samson said, pointing. He might have been a long way from his adolescence, but he’d been raised better than to take advantage of someone like that. Especially someone who was helping him out.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s on me,” Malik said, smiling at Samson in the rearview mirror.
Samson smiled and sat back in the seat as the city whizzed past. Maybe Baltimore wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
13
ROGER ARRIVED TEN MINUTES LATE to his appointment on purpose. He liked making people wait, it made him feel powerful. Especially when he knew that they had no choice but to wait since he had something that they needed.
He could feel them there, inside the café that they’d agreed on as a neutral meeting place. There were three of them: One at a small table in the corner, one by the back door, and one by the front door. They were being cautious and that was fine. He hadn’t brought anyone with him since he had no intention of double-crossing them. He wanted this to happen, just like they did.
The man that Roger was there to meet was named Leo. He was a shifter in a local wolf pack and pretty high up in their hierarchy. The pack didn’t have a proper alpha and hadn’t for almost a year now, so Leo had stepped in and pretty much taken over. Roger wasn’t sure how he hadn’t been challenged yet, but he wasn’t asking any questions. Leo was impulsive enough to agree to what they were there to discuss, so he was tolerable.
“If I was going to kill you, I’d have done it by now,” Roger said, taking a seat across the table from Leo with a smirk.
“What are you talking about?” Leo said, obviously faking innocents. Roger inclined his head towards one of the shifters standing guard and then the other before returning his attention to the furry one across from him.
“Did you think I wouldn’t know they were here? What kind of half-assed vampire do you think that I am?” Roger asked, leaning forward and waiting for Leo to make a mistake. He didn’t particularly care for the man, he was weak and ineffectual. But he served a purpose. One that could be filled by the next one to step into the role of fake alpha were Roger to tear out his throat and scare all the nice humans in the shop with them.
“No, I knew you’d know. That doesn’t mean I’m stupid enough to come to meet a fanger by myself.” Leo sipped whatever coffee he had and smiled like a dumbass who thought he’d just said something clever.
“Let’s get down to it, I don’t have a lot of time,” Roger said, not wanting to be there with Leo any longer than he had to be. He did have somewhere else to be, but that wasn’t why he’d said that.
“Fine. You said you’d hand us the son of the Suzerain. How?” Leo asked.
Roger chuckled. “He and I have been best friends our entire lives. I tell you where he is and when the best time to take him is, and you take care of the rest.”
“Just like that?” Leo asked, obviously puzzled. “Why in the world would you give up your best friend?”
“Reasons. For one, neither of them did anything to discourage this city from crucifying you all for those murders. I don’t believe that was right, and I think you deserve the r
ight to show them how that made you feel.” Which was complete and utter horseshit.
The murders had been committed by a human who had been magically altered by witches to unnaturally shift and murder other humans but make it look like vamp kills. But Leo didn’t really seem to care about what had truly happened. What Roger really wanted was Owen out of the way so that Max had to choose a new successor. There was no one else that he trusted more than Roger, so he’d be a clear choice, and sowing doubt in the community simply hastened the day where he’d have to choose and step down.
“You’re one sick bastard, but you’re giving me what I want, so I’ll take it,” Leo said. Roger smirked and slid a small vial across the table. Leo eyed it carefully before looking back up at Roger, puzzled. “What’s that?”
“Silplacid,” Roger replied like it was a dumbass question.
“That’s not going to keep a vampire as powerful as Owen down,” Leo laughed. At least he was intelligent enough to know that much.
“Not like that it won’t. But if you find yourself a powerful witch with loose morals and a willingness to charm it a bit…”
Leo’s eyes lit up as he eyes the silplacid with a new understanding. “That’ll work?”
“It’s about the only thing that will, so I’d advise you find yourself a healthy stash of it and have it all charmed if your plan is to keep Owen sedated and have your fill of his blood.” Leo’s eyes shot back up to Roger’s face with the shock of being called out. “Did you think that I didn’t notice how twitchy you are? Your eyes are ringed in red, you can’t keep still, and you keep itching at the back of your neck. I’d bet you’re starting to get some random welts forming on your skin, hm? They sting like hell, don’t they?” Roger said, listing off the signs of vamp blood withdrawal. Well, cheap and synthetic vamp blood that was manufactured and sold as a drug, since it was pretty addicting to most that weren’t a vampire.
“That’s not why we’re doing this,” Leo snapped.
Roger laughed softly. “I didn’t say it was. Either way, I’ve given you a way to keep him from ripping you a new asshole. I’d advise you take my advice because if he gets loose, there’s no one in this world that can protect you from him.” Roger stood to leave. There wasn’t really anything else to say, and addicts made him itch. “I’ll text you when I’ve got a good time for you to take him.”
Roger turned away from the table and made his way out of the front door and out onto the street. He smiled and shook his head. Who’d have thought that a bunch of vamp blood addicts would be the ones to help him get to the seat of power? It didn’t really matter to him, as long as they did what they were supposed to do. He’d given them everything short of kidnapping Owen himself and dropping him on their doorstep. They’d better not fuck this up.
~*~
THE ROOM WAS FILLED WITH conversation when Roger arrived, which was fine. He was late, and not on purpose this time.
“I’m sorry about being late, everyone. I got caught in traffic on my way here,” he said, taking his normal seat at the front of the room.
“Bannon isn’t here, so you’re doing fine on time, I guess. Though he isn’t normally late.” Seth said with a sigh. That was true, but Roger knew that Bannon wasn’t coming.
“I haven’t seen Bannon in days. I called him earlier to see if he wanted to ride with me tonight, but his phone went straight to voicemail.
“Did something happen to him?” Seth asked as he and Remi turned to Roger.
“I have no idea, guys. I hope that he’s alright, but we can’t sit here all night waiting. We’ve got a few things to discuss and we all need to get back to our lives outside of here in a timely manner. We’ll just have to fill him in later or something,” Roger said, trying to move things along.
“True,” Seth said softly. He had a bit of a curfew and needed to get home before his over-bearing wife realized that he was out. Roger had thought about doing something about his significant other but had chosen not to when Seth insisted that he could keep her from prying too much. So far, he’d kept his promise, and tonight her poking meant that he was trying to get the meeting going just as much as Roger was.
The number of people in the room had dwindled down to three including Roger, which wasn’t a lot. But the room contained people that he trusted to get shit done, and that was what he really needed. He needed to be able to hand out tasks and know that they would get done properly. He may have to do a few more things himself instead of delegating until he found someone else that he trusted, but that was fine. It was more efficient than having to run around cleaning up messes and taking care of loose ends.
“I think that we need to start being more forceful with our recruiting efforts,” Roger said, sitting back and folding his arms across his chest.
“How so?” Remi asked.
“I mean that we need to begin approaching people in our daily lives. I’m not asking you to go out of your way, but if you happen across someone at work, or in a sandwich shop that strikes up a conversation, why not tell them about what we do here, what we believe.”
Seth and Remi nodded their understanding, but it was Seth who asked the follow-up question. “And if they don’t? Do we chase them down and make them listen in some way? Is that what you mean by being more forceful?”
“Partially,” Seth replied. “Try once again. If they aren’t receptive to the message, then they have changed their status from possible ally to loose end. See, if Maxim comes looking for the vampires who organized that little shindig that Owen busted up, people that are failed converts can ID you.”
“And?” Remi asked.
“And we can’t have that. I’m not willing to put our lives in danger like that. So, if you approach someone and they aren’t interested, keep track of them until you have them alone, and kill them.” Roger said it very matter-of-factly, mainly because it was to him. Seth and Remi exchanged a look in response.
“Kill them? Just for not listening?” Remi repeated.
Roger shrugged in response. “Or don’t and have them run to the Suzerain and tell him that you’ve been talking something crazy and that he needs to come looking for you. You can take that chance if you’d like, but I’ve seen what Max is capable of when he has a good reason to be angry. That’s not a chance I’m willing to take for some stranger with a closed mind.” Roger could almost see the wheels turning in the two brains in front of them. They might not be completely behind the idea, but they also weren’t willing to take the fall for the whole scheme just because they had left someone alive. That would change, and Roger knew it.
Vampires were odd creatures in his experience. They might not be alright with the bloodshed now, but most vampires became more at peace with the violence and death the more they were around it. Eventually, they would enjoy the task given to them, and then Roger wouldn’t have to worry about their loyalty at all since he would be the source of their violence fix. That was the moment that he could fully relax.
“If you have to kill someone, attach one of our flyers to their body somehow and write something threatening on it. Something that makes it sound like the Suzerain has made another example for the city. That way, even those who die can assist us with our goals.” Roger looked between Seth and Mia. Both of them seemed hesitant but nodded their agreement. That was all that he needed for right now. they’d come around.
14
A POLITE KNOCK AT THE door to his office brought Max out of the paperwork hell that he’d been fully invested in. He sighed and stretched his back out for a moment before getting up and crossing the room to answer the door. He welcomed the distraction, whatever it was. Whatever got him out of having to do those papers.
The man on the other side of the door was intimidating, to say that least, though Max had the distinct impression that it wasn’t something that he was doing on purpose. It was simply who he was. His face was full of hard lines and covered in skin that held a reddish undertone. He was about the same height as Max, so hovering around six f
eet, and his eyes didn’t do that weird searching thing that most people did when they met someone new.
He was also a vampire, but you could barely feel it. It was just there below the surface, like a low hum in the background, something that you’d miss if you weren’t looking for it. His dark eyes locked on Max’s and he bowed about halfway, pausing at the bottom of the bow for just a moment before returning upright.
“Suzerain Blyth, I’ve been sent by the Directorate as a bodyguard. And I apologize on behalf of the Directorate for previously saddling you with someone so unable to properly do his job and follow the rules,” the man said. Max looked him over one last time and stepped back out of the way, motioning for the man to come inside. Once both of them were in, Max closed the office door and locked it. Just in case.
“I was informed that another was being sent, but I wasn’t told anything about you,” Max said, motioning again for the man to take a seat. He was carrying two large bags, which Max thought was odd considering Dracon said that he’d make sure that the replacement had a place to stay.
“My name is Samson Dawes. I apologize for taking so long to get here,” he said, setting his bags to the side and taking a seat as requested.
Max chuckled as he returned to his seat behind the large desk. “It’s only been a few days, my friend. You arrived much quicker than I thought you would, honestly.”
Samson’s eyes traveled slowly towards his bags, and he seemed to answer the question that Max had about them. “Dracon has already secured me a condo here in the city. However, I was approached and attacked by a few shifters just after getting off of the train. I made the decision to come here instead of going to my new home first. I wondered if this is a normal occurrence for vampires in the city since that case was resolved.”
