Bloodlines

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Bloodlines Page 26

by Drew D'Amato


  “Master, no offense, but if my intention was to kill you, I would be smooth enough to do it without any repercussions and you know I am capable of that.”

  Vlad flinched. It made sense. If Michael wanted to sell him out, he would have already been dead already.

  “You’re right, but if not you, someone else has. What else could explain how the hell they knew exactly where my house was?”

  “Jordan was there,” Malachi said from behind everyone else.

  Vlad turned around slowly and looked at Malachi. “Jordan, from Chicago?”

  “Yes, I guess he became a Raduson when you wouldn’t make him a vampire again. He was about to kill Michael, but I shot him from behind.”

  Vlad put his head down in shame. “I’m sorry Michael, Jordan’s participation explains everything.”

  “It’s okay master, this war has been crazy the past few weeks. But we can’t start blaming our most trusted friends,” Michael said.

  There was a pause.

  “It’s going to be dawn in a few minutes,” Vlad said. “You guys go to bed; Radu and his men will be on their way home. I’m going to stay up and wait though. Some others might have made it out.”

  “I doubt it,” Michael said as he exited.

  11

  The time was a little after seven. Dawn cracked about half an hour ago. Vlad died out his cigarette in the full ashtray on the front windowsill. His men had gone to sleep. He was about to get to bed himself when a figure appeared in the road. Vlad looked closer at him. It was one of his men. Someone else had survived.

  The vampire Deacon walked into the second house. He had no smile on his face or any sign of being happy. He looked and saw Vlad looking at him.

  “Is everyone else dead?” Deacon asked.

  “No, they’re sleeping. You are the tenth one to make it here, including me. Are there anymore behind you?”

  “No, I am the last.”

  “Have a seat Deacon, I have to talk to you.”

  The two of them sat down on the couches and got comfortable. Deacon rubbed his hand over his face.

  “So tell me, how did you make it out?” Vlad asked.

  “Gabriel threw a grenade toward the kitchen. I had just entered it. I knew Daniel and Colin were behind me. I went back to the main room to look for them. They were gone.”

  “Daniel lived, Colin died. Continue.”

  “But Gabriel was still there. He pulled out from behind his back a shotgun loaded with silver shells. The blast hit me in the shoulder, but managed to miss my heart. I fell back into a closet under the stairs. Gabriel did not know exactly where he hit me; he just knew he hit me. I decided then I could not fight my way out of this. I transformed into a spider and hid in the darkness. He checked the closet, and found nothing. He must have figured I was dead. There was some more shooting and then a huge explosion came from the parlor of the house. The shooting stopped after that.”

  Vlad thought to himself. Michael’s story checked out, there was a big explosion in the parlor. He had made a mistake, he could trust Michael.

  “Go on,” Vlad said.

  “I waited in the closet, my blood power draining, but I did not have to wait much longer. After the explosion I heard them leave, which was good for me since I was so low on blood. I hadn’t had any the night before, so I couldn’t stay transformed much longer. I turned back to a human, but waited until dawn to leave the house. I had to walk as a human all the way here, that’s why it took me so long.”

  Vlad took out a driver’s licence from his wallet. He ripped it in half with his bare hands.

  “What was that?” Deacon asked.

  “That’s the alias used to purchase that house. Dave Reynolds, porn star producer—no one will ever find any of his videos. He also purchased most of those cars, him or his brother Pete who Jericho had as his alias. I can never use his name again. Jericho is going to have to do the same with his. That’s what you have to do Deacon, whenever one of your aliases is compromised. You never use it again, no matter what the loss. It just gives the dogs a whiff of your trail.”

  “What else was tied to that alias besides the house and the cars?”

  “Oh, about 89 million dollars in various accounts.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Aah, it’s a drop in the ocean. Not worth the risk of being discovered.”

  “So what are we going to do now?”

  “Sleep, and then we are going to go on the offensive. We’ve been sitting back waiting for him for too long. It’s time for us to make a move. Later today when the heat dies down we’ll go back to the house and see if we can find anything we need—if there is anything there to find. Sleep now, you’re safe.”

  The last vampire of Vlad’s bloodline went to one of the upstairs bedrooms. Ten remained, that was all he had left. Vlad lit up another cigarette. He needed to continue his thoughts of what he was going to do next. His mind racing to come up with some sort of a plan prevented him from getting any sleep. He also had to figure out who was the snake in his garden. He couldn’t believe all of this was the work of Jordan. He wasn’t positive an underling from Chicago had known the exact address of his house, but maybe he could have gotten it somehow, or maybe Michael was still playing both sides. Or maybe now he even had to suspect Deacon. Last one out of the house, who hid inside a closet the whole time. It didn’t really seem too probable.

  Vlad’s head hurt. He was now fighting a two-front war. The Radusons attacking him from the outside, and someone betraying him from within.

  EIGHT

  1

  Vlad, Jericho, Michael, and Malachi drove in a Cadillac Escalade EXT that Jericho had just purchased under one of his other substantial aliases—Jack Bearfield—to the ruins of what was once their home. They only had a few hours of daylight left. The police and fire department had been there throughout the night and into the morning. They found no bodies at the house, just a lot of damage. They did find two cops dead miles down the road. They had to believe the two acts were related, and they wanted vengeance for who was behind their fallen brethren. The police would want answers, and Vlad would have to give it to them.

  Vlad made a call to Patrick early in the morning. Vlad asked if he heard about that shoot-out at the house in Santa Barbara.

  “Oh Please, Raoul, I can’t hold that story back,” Patrick pleaded.

  “No, I’m not asking for that. I’m coming through on my favor for you.”

  Vlad gave him a story that the attack was ordered by Mario Valvino—one of the top mob bosses in California. The man who owned the house that was attacked—Dave Reynolds—was more than just an international porn dealer. He also sold suckers bum pieces of land in Florida. He burned Valvino for $40 million dollars on swampland that Valvino thought was beachfront property. Valvino wanted revenge, but Reynolds wasn’t home so they destroyed the house instead. The silver painted bullets were used to represent Judas—in symbolizing both a betrayal and a bad land deal. The Sicilians were like that with their messages.

  “Raoul, can I print this? This is saying the untouchable don was behind this hit. Two cops are dead, and the police are going to be all up his ass.”

  “Let them.”

  “But people are going to come to me and want to know how I know this. The police and the mob too. Shit, what the hell am I going to tell them?”

  “You don’t want to run the story, don’t run the story.” Then Vlad thought about it. Protecting a source might be a term Patrick can use with angry police officers, but was not anything an institution like the mafia gave a shit about. “Just say it was the mafia, but don’t use any names. Tell the police you heard the Reynolds brothers were selling bum land to mobsters, but they sold it to so many of them that you have no idea who exactly was behind this attack.”

  “That sounds like more bullshit though.”

  “Christ, Patrick you’re never happy. You can say you don’t know who but that it was mobsters, or you can name Valvino, but just expect your testicles to
be fried when his men interrogate you to find out how you know this. It’s your choice.”

  “I like my balls.”

  “Then you know what to do.”

  “What’s your angle in this?”

  “I don’t have a fucking angle, I just owe you a story. Give it to that kid who missed the one with the bikers.”

  With that, Vlad hung up. Patrick was starting to get on his nerves. Fucking guy is never happy. Let the cops think mobsters where behind it and try to figure out which family it was. Let them look for Dave Reynolds and his brother Pete. Let them keep spinning their wheels. Vlad had to focus on what was before him. His old house.

  The front looked a lot better than the back. There were bullet holes and broken windows in the front, but the parlor in the back was destroyed from the explosion. There were no walls or ceiling, just a floor hanging above the training room. The floor looked to only be hanging by a few studs.

  “That must have been one hell of a bomb,” Jericho said at first glance.

  “Look what they did to the dragon,” Malachi said.

  The dragon water fountain—that to everyone’s knowledge was not hit by any firearm—was decapitated. The body of it lied on its back, but the head looked straight with the bottom of the skull on the ground as if it had been buried up to its neck.

  “Leave it, maybe some kids passing by might like it,” Vlad said.

  “The police have definitely been through the whole house,” Michael said.

  “What would they think about the feeding room?” Jericho asked.

  “They know this is a porn producer’s house. Hopefully they will just think it’s something kinky. And if they do think anything else, fuck it, let them pile up the charges against the Reynolds brothers. They will never find them, along with the paperwork hidden in the office. They probably were just too confused with there being no bodies or any sign of injury. But they will be back soon to investigate more. Let’s move quick.”

  They started to walk and then Vlad stopped. “Michael, should we even go in? Is it safe?”

  “The police have been through this entire wreck already. I don’t think there are any booby traps. But he still could have hid something that the police had not come upon yet. We’ll go in, but you stay here and keep watch.”

  The answer of a trusted ally, or a deceiver not ready to show his hand. He was questioning Michael and he didn’t know why. Jordan was the one who led Radu to his house, not Michael. But Jordan’s presence last night only proved that Jordan was involved. It did not eliminate the chance that Michael or anyone else was also working with Radu.

  Vlad gave out the orders. “Malachi, get the weapons and some ammo. They should be in the room next to the feeding room in the basement. Michael, get all the files and paperwork from the office. It’s in the safe under the oak desk. I doubt any cops thought to move the desk to look for a secret compartment. Jericho, collect the antiquities that will be hard to explain, like a scalpel with the blood of Jack the Ripper’s last victim. All of you, check for booby traps.”

  The three vampires took out two heavy trunks and a suitcase from the back of the truck. Malachi and Jericho grabbed a trunk each, and Michael took the briefcase. No one objected as they set off. Maybe Vlad could trust tem all? He didn’t get a chance to think too much about it. His phone suddenly rang.

  “Vlad, hi, it’s Jasmine.”

  “Hey, what are you doing?”

  “Nothing, how ‘bout you?”

  “Nothing much,” he said as he looked over at his destroyed house.

  “I hope you’re not mad at me for yesterday. I feel bad giving you the wrong idea.”

  “You didn’t give me the wrong idea, I’m not mad. I had fun. Maybe we can go on another non-date sometime.”

  “Well, what are you doing tonight?”

  “I have nothing planned, how about you? It’s Saturday night, aren’t you going to spend it with your boyfriend?”

  “My boyfriend said he has to help his dad out. His father is up for re-election this coming Tuesday and he helps out on the campaign.”

  Vlad noticed something in her voice. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

  “We had plans, his schedule was supposed to be free, and then this just kind of came up out of nowhere. I guess politics works like that.”

  That was not all that worked like that in politics, Vlad thought. He had a strong feeling her boyfriend was unfaithful, and that gave him an opening.

  “How about around nine we go get some drinks? No dinner, that would be a date.”

  Jasmine laughed. “That’s fair, but I’m paying for us tonight. That’s what friends do. Do you mind picking me up?”

  “Sure, text me the directions, I don’t have a pen or paper on me.”

  “Okay.”

  They hung up and seconds later he got a text from her.

  The three vampires made their way back to the pick-up with their cargo. They put them in the bed of the truck.

  “I think we got enough weapons,” Malachi said.

  “They didn’t discover the compartment under the desk,” Michael said.

  “I wouldn’t think so, that oak is too heavy for a human to move,” Vlad said. “They wouldn’t think someone would actually hide something underneath it.”

  “Most of the cars were destroyed except for the Shelby,” Malachi said as he closed the tailgate to the truck.

  “We should bring that with us, master,” Michael said.

  “Isn’t that also under the Reynolds name?” Malachi asked.

  “No, I bought that years ago under another alias.”

  “Do you want me to drive it?” Michael asked.

  “No, I’ll do it, I love that car. None of you guys saw any booby traps?”

  “The place is clear, we checked the rooms as we went,” Jericho said. “No sign of trip wires or any type of explosives.”

  “All right, come with me to the garage.”

  Vlad got out of the truck and the three of them followed after him. Vlad gripped the handle of the fifth garage door for the Shelby and lifted it up. He stared down at his midnight blue Shelby Mustang, the only car untouched. The others had been destroyed by bullet holes or explosions. He could see the carnage to all the cars to the right of him. The Lamborghini was destroyed by that grenade Vlad shot, and both doors were off of it. Bullet holes in the limo and the Navigator. Then the blank spot that the Ferrari was parked in, followed by the Shelby. After the Shelby, the windows were bashed in on the Maserati next to that, the purple ’57 Chexy, and also the white BMW 5-Series Gran Turismo 550i at the end.

  Vlad took out his key chain that had a key to every car he owned on it and got inside. He put the key in the ignition, and was about to turn it when—.

  “Wait master!” Michael cautioned.

  “What’s wrong?” Jericho asked.

  “Was every car in here touched when you guys left last night?” Michael asked him.

  “No, just the first few cars by the stairs,” Vlad said.

  “I sent a grenade down here last night,” Malachi said. “It could have hit anything.”

  “Yes, but the cars to the left and right have all been damaged, but this one car in the middle is without a scratch,” Michael said. “As if by design, this car was left as the only option to drive.”

  Vlad got out of the car. He put his left hand under the car and lifted it up with as much ease like he was opening a Bilco door. On the undercarriage it stared right at him, a package of C-4. The other vampires were aghast.

  “You saved my life Michael.” Vlad said. He slowly lowered the Shelby back to the ground. “Let’s get out of here. The police will be back soon, and we have things to do.”

  “What do we have to do?” Jericho asked.

  “Two things; first, I want you guys to call the hotels in the area and see if a Remus Frumos is staying anywhere. That is the only alias of Radu that I know of. Second, I want you to take out Mario Valvino. His death will cause more chaos in the midst o
f what happened here last night. I told my reporter friend to say it was mobsters who got a bum land deal, but he will not name which mob family. Now when an important boss gets killed, it will create more chaos within the family and amongst the other families. The police will be busy dealing with a potential mob war, and the Valvino family will be busy looking for who was behind their don’s death. It will take everyone’s attention off this incident.”

  “What are you going to do, master?” Michael asked.

  “I got to get ready for a date.”

  NINE

  1

  Mafia Don Mario Valvino assumed a place he partially owned was one of the safest places for a man of his stature to eat. He had forgotten how dark the the parking lot of Tre Scalini was at night.

  The vampires seemed to appear out of nowhere. In an instant they were in the backseat of his Cadillac. Jericho slashed his throat with a knife and left the weapon on the back seat. Michael put two .22 bullets in the head of his wife and also left the gun in the car. Malachi kept an eye out. While the three of them took care of the fun part, Jericho had ordered the other six vampires—Stephen, Matthew, Gregory, Andrew, Daniel, and Deacon—to call the hotels in the LA area looking for a Remus Frumos. None of them turned up anything.

  They had left the bodies to be discovered. The forensic scientist who appeared on the scene within an hour later commented that Valvino appeared to have lost far too much blood, even for a cut to the external jugular vein. The detectives onsite decided not to dig any deeper into it.

 

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