by CD Brown
Steve had been turned within the last decade, so Jeremiah was able to find a picture of him, get it blown up and put on a poster all on the same day. Sophia went into the reserves to make sure there was enough blood for the guests.
Sophia and Jeremiah waited in the lobby as the guests began arriving. They stared at the picture.
“That was all you could find?”
“It was this or thirty-two pictures of him without a shirt.”
Steve, his shirt bearing the Greek letters of some fraternity, drank from a beer bottle, the foam of which exploded out the sides of his mouth. His hair was damp from sweat.
“Ugh, I can smell this picture.” Sandy had joined them in viewing. “The little douche was doing so good, too. Your whole program was good for him.”
“Thanks. But I’m the reason he’s dead.” Sophia’s feelings were catching up with her. All the suppression of feelings while getting ready for the memorial now overtopped her levees and flooded her senses. Jeremiah’s arm pulled her in tight, so she leaned into him, letting everything out.
Sandy’s exterior softened as she rubbed Sophia’s arm. “Babe, we’re complicated creatures. We try to think we still have all of the human left in us, but something’s gone. You remind us we can still try to find it. Assholes like Jurevicious make everything worse.”
“He’s not even the one in charge.”
“Are you kidding?” Pamela, who was talking to a few of the VampAmp staff, came over when she heard this. “I was under the impression that this was over.”
“No, we’ve still got a ways to go.”
Pamela looked around, then at her watch. Sophia looked at the clock on the wall. They were supposed to start in fifteen minutes. Pamela took Sophia’s shoulder. “We have to talk. Now.”
Sophia led her into the office. Pamela shut the door, then sat in one of the chairs.
“Sorry, I’m not used to staying up this late.” Pamela took out her phone. “Listen, please.”
The voice came from a message saved on Pamela’s phone: “Pam, it’s Judy. Are you serious with this stuff you sent me? Jim was a vampire? I…I don’t know how to process this. But if you and this Sophia person need to meet with Abraham, I’ll make sure it happens.”
Sophia felt stunned that Pamela would reveal the underground to anyone. “Who the hell was that?”
“Judy DelBarca.” Pamela rolled her eyes at Sophia’s shrug. “The mayor’s wife. I’m sorry, but if there really is a plot to turn the city into a vampire-run dictatorship, I thought someone at City Hall should know.”
“I hope she’s someone you trust.”
“Like a sister. I’m going to set up a meeting. You, me and Abraham.”
“I don’t like it.”
“And I miss Jim. But we adapt, adjust.”
“I’ve been doing just that for 150 years. I thought I would get a year of consistency when I left New Orleans.”
“This is Hollywood, dear. We move at a different speed.”
They joined the service where Horton and Maisie gave short speeches. Robert, Steve’s sponsor in the program, gave an impassioned plea for all to come to Sophia’s meeting, especially since Steve had been so helped by them. Finally, Sophia approached the podium.
“I’m not going to say anything because I would only be repeating the lovely words we’ve heard tonight. I only ask we pray and have a convergence to send Steve on.” She led the Serenity Prayer, then began the hum. Never had there been so many in this room, so as the sound rose, the windows rattled with the vibration. But Sophia didn’t stop until she felt cleansed of her depression. As she wound them down, so many of the others looked unburdened also.
But Tamar stepped forward, beckoning her out of the room. Sophia said another word of thanks, then hurried out.
Even though Hyperion was a very busy street during the day, right now it was empty. Except for the crowd of vampires surrounding the center and lined up in the street who waited to fight.
From above, the standoff must have looked like a football game. Two lines formed: on the east side of the street were beefy Mexican and African American men crouched and ready to strike; on the west were skinnier punks, fangs protruding, in a protective formation around Myra. But unlike the game, the Own The Nighters were vastly outnumbered. But that didn’t diminish Myra’s attitude as she called out.
“We can’t join the party? I thought all were welcome, or some happy horseshit like that.”
“If you’re here for a fight, you’ll get one.” Sophia kept her voice steady, feeling safe in the present moment. “If you want to talk, to bring your people in line with ours, we’re willing to listen to that.”
“Not so tough now, huh? Not when you’re outnumbered.” Sophia shot a steely look at Tamar, but the younger vamp’s attention was on her prospective opponent. Sophia looked to Myra who wasn’t backing down.
“You think you’ve got us down because you killed Jurevicious? His death has only made us stronger.”
Sophia saw she had played into Myra’s hands, spurring the revolutionaries to act instead of talk.
Unfortunately, Tamar was doing the exact same thing with her taunting. “You don’t have the power here, bitch. You got nothing to back up all your talk.”
“Tamar!” Sophia’s scolding came out as a hiss. “You’re making it worse.”
But that only turned Tamar’s anger toward Sophia. “Your words are the same as hers right now. We need to take care of this problem.”
“I will, but you need to give me some room.”
Tamar raised her hands, but still smoldered. Sophia turned to continue the parlay, but the moment was gone. She saw Myra turn and run while her muscle moved in to fight. The street exploded with fists, kicks and claws, Sophia retreating to the front door to keep the center’s guests out of the fray. Tamar fell in next to her.
“You need to trust me! You need to let me do the talking.”
“I know, but she pissed me off.” Tamar cracked the jaw of a charging Nighter, then threw him into the middle of the street. “You can’t fuck with a Latina, even a bloodless one.”
Sophia looked around. Like a football game, the struggle was in the scrum, the grappling taking up the middle of the street. Like a running back looking for a hole, Tamar cut back and forth, trying to find someone to fight. One of the Nighters dived over the line and charged her.
Sophia saw Tamar duck under a wild swing, then take the legs out from under him with a low, spinning kick. As his head cracked against the concrete, Tamar pinned his shoulders with her knees, then pounded his face bloody with right-left combinations. She had nearly torn his jaw from its hinges when Sophia pulled her off.
Tamar’s eyes were ruby colored as she stared down Sophia, the blood lust beyond anger and now into instinct. But the Latina managed to hold back attacking Sophia. Instead, she bent and slashed open her victim’s throat, leaving him a pile of dust.
Sophia looked down at Tamar who was on one knee. “You have to—”
But she didn’t finish her sentence, instead looking up at the face of a Nighter and the sharp end of a stake. She wriggled and pushed, but the surprise had taken most of her leverage. As the point dropped toward her chest, she seized and pushed. She wasn’t going to go down like this.
But the wood scraped her skin and the fear of being finished bolted through her. Until her attacker turned to ash, Tamar the only thing left in Sophia’s sight.
Sophia stood, wiping the remains from her shirt and pants. If she could have cried, she would have, her chest bouncing with a hiccupping thrust. Tamar grabbed her in a hug.
“You and me, we ain’t done yet. Bitch gotta pay for Steve.”
Sophia’s emotions drained and she pulled Tamar close. “Now I owe you.”
Tamar let her loose. “Hell, no. We blood now. You, me, everybody. This is all personal.”
By this time, the Nighters had cleared out. They hadn’t been ready for the logical conclusion of the rumble, sacrificing only the tw
o vamps to their cause. Their job had been to kill Sophia and Tamar and they failed. They left and the center was safe for now.
Sophia went back inside to see all the guests huddled out of the way.
“It’s safe now. You should all get going.”
All the guests filed out, but Pamela made sure she was the last to leave. “We have to put a stop to them. Quickly.”
“I know. But we also need to do things the right way.”
“The right way may mean some changes. Ones you may not like. Be ready for that.”
“What are you saying?”
“That your time for absolute freedom is running out. Use it wisely.”
Chapter Eighteen
The next night, Sophia called Maisie to see if she had found the new online gathering place for Own The Night. Maisie sounded distracted.
“Sorry, but they aren’t even hiding anymore.” Sophia could hear her typing. “Horton is trying to shut them down, while I’m trying to trace where these IP’s might lead.”
“They opened a site on VampAmp?”
“Yeah.” More typing, then cursing. “Myra published a manifesto. We keep taking it down, but she posts it right back.”
“I need to see it.”
“It’s up there now. I’ll give you a few minutes to download it.”
Sophia hung up, then saved the PDF document. No doubt about it, Myra had taken her message to the next level.
“We own the night! We shall own the day!” Sophia scanned the first few lines before finding the crux of the new missive. “Vampires are not people, not human. We are superior beings and need to ascend to the throne. The first step will be Los Angeles.”
Sophia called Sandy who was also reading the new statement. “Well, they weren’t gonna start with Bakersfield.”
“You seem nonplussed by this.”
“I deal with lawyers. This is my typical level of narcissism.”
Sophia read on. “Says here something about vanquishing our enemies who are the true slaves.”
“I think she means you.”
“Duh.” Sophia arrived at the end. “‘The sewers will brim with blood. The streets will be stained crimson. The darkness will become the new light.’ Sounds like a party.”
“Babe, I’ll get the committee together. Shall we do a phone conference?”
“Yeah. No need for everybody to drive to the west side.”
“Now you’re sounding like a true Angelino.”
In an hour, all the committee members were on speakerphone. Sophia took control of this virtual meeting. “Own The Night is planning something. Myra seems out for me in particular, but none of her actions have been predictable. She could come for any of us. Right, Tamar?”
“Yes, mistress.” Tamar, who had traveled to be close to Sophia, looked ready to explode but kept it to herself.
“The key here is you have to keep all the cabal members together. No going out alone, no one in their own homes. Gather at one place, lock it down and be ready to act.”
“We’re going to the mattresses?” Loretta from the Black and Whites honked a wry laugh.
“What?”
“Old mob term. Melvin used to say it all the time when he wanted to start a fight.”
“Yeah, go to the mattresses. Stay together, sleep together, but also be ready to fight together. All of us.”
After all agreed to the plan, everybody hung up except Sandy.
“I’m staying put, babe.”
“You should be with us here or at VampAmp.”
“I live in Irvine. The whole city is a gated community. No self-respecting punk revolutionary would be seen near here.”
“Okay, but you’ll come if I call?”
“Of course. Especially if I get to crush my enemies and hear the lamentation of their women. That’s such a thrill.”
“The hell are you talking about?”
“Ask your boyfriend. I’ll be there for you.”
“Great.”
Speaking of Jeremiah, Sophia turned to him. She had sent him to the club where Steve died to see if he could get a scent trail and find Myra’s hideout.
“It’s just too messy in the middle of the city.”
“I know. It was hard enough following Jurevicious.” Sophia blew out a breath, still a habit despite not needing to breathe. “Waiting for them is the worst. But taking the fight to them is dangerous.”
Jeremiah massaged her shoulder, which made her feel better if no less tense. “All you been working for is about to go out the window. We been good about staying above petty fights, but we ain’t about blowing the whole thing up.”
“My worry is they’ll do something desperate.”
“That’s about all they been doing. I thought killing that Jurevicious dude woulda done it, but he ain’t the head of the snake.”
“Wait a minute.” Sophia turned her computer back on. Opening the manifesto file, she scrolled down to the mention of Los Angeles. “Look here.”
Right after it said “We will start in Los Angeles” was this cryptic line: “Like the snake who dies when the head is cut, the angel city cannot fly without its wings. We will burn the wings.”
“Yeah?”
“They don’t have the numbers, but they only need one person to start this.” She turned to Tamar who was taking out her cell phone. “They’re going after the mayor. We need to move.”
The mayor’s mansion was located in Hancock Park, an area just below Hollywood and only five miles from City Hall. Alpha was the closest, his neighborhood only twenty minutes south, so Jeremiah and Sophia rushed over there while Alpha gathered a few of his people to help.
There were other cabals closer, but Sophia needed someone she could trust.
The neighborhood was upscale, each place easily able to house the elected leader of the city, but the Getty House, as it used to belong to the son of the oil man, stood out even more. Designed during the Tudor Revival period of the ‘20s, the white paint with dark brown accents looked like it should be somewhere on an English field, not in the middle of a desert city. Its pitched roof presented triangles to the street, a storybook house in every fashion.
Sophia, Jeremiah, and Tamar got there just as Alpha and his boys exited their SUV. Sophia knew something was missing, but Alpha put a point on it. “Ain’t no police, no bodyguards.”
“Nobody’s keeping watch? No way.”
The stone walls surrounding the property’s edge were low, so the vamps and the lycanthrope all spread out and jumped over the barrier to cover as much ground as possible. Tamar found the guards piled up in the corner of the yard.
“They ain’t dead, but they out.”
“You all go around back, make sure they aren’t taking people away.” Sophia turned to Alpha and Jeremiah. “You two, we’re going in the front door.”
A window hung over the entrance, but Sophia didn’t see any shadows playing there. The whole place was dark—maybe too much so. As they walked in the front, the air was still. “They cut the power.”
“Only place to go is up.” Jeremiah pointed to the staircase, closed in by walls instead of the grand central walkways of Southern manses. They booked triple speed up to find the master bedroom, the obvious being double French doors on the left, one of which hadn’t been completely closed. “Be nice if we had some help.”
“Yes, it would.” Sophia kept her voice down, then looked to Jeremiah. “Get the power back on. Set off every alarm you can find.”
While Jeremiah went back downstairs, Alpha pushed his fingers like he was trying to crack his knuckles. “Damn, I miss that. Ass whooping time?”
“Yeah. Only hold back if the mayor’s life is in danger.”
“It ain’t right now?”
“You know what I mean.”
On the count of three, they stormed into the bedroom. Four OTN punks circled the bed while Myra held the trembling mayor in her hands. His eyes looked spaced, as if he were enthralled, but still had enough of a mind to be afraid. My
ra smiled at Sophia.
“You’re smarter than I thought.”
“So are you. But you’ll really impress me if you let him go.”
Myra cocked her head at Sophia, frowned, then returned the smile to her lips. “Nah.” Popping out her fangs, she bent the mayor’s head back to bite.
Sophia dove forward like a swimmer hearing the starting gun. She cut between the line of goons protecting Myra, while Alpha followed her, fists flying. But as Sophia rolled to her knees on top of the bed, ready to separate Myra from the mayor, she saw she was too late: Myra’s fangs were deep in the man’s neck.
But that wouldn’t turn him. He would have to drink the blood Myra drained. With the back of her hand, Sophia smashed Myra’s nose, disengaging the biter from the victim. Myra rolled off the bed as one of the OTN guys grabbed Sophia from behind. She elbowed him in the eye and he rolled back off.
Blood spurted from the mayor’s artery onto the silk sheets. Sophia pulled a case off a pillow, wrapping it around his neck. It would stanch the flow, but he could still die without other help.
Alpha fought hard, but the three on him backed him into a corner. He fell into a Muhammed Ali-style rope-a-dope defensive posture, taking the hits without much damage.
Sophia rolled to the carpet just as Myra pounced from the floor and onto the bed, landing prone in the mess of sheets. Getting quickly to her feet, Sophia put Myra in a choke hold from behind, her arm at the throat of her enemy, then pulled her onto the floor. Luckily, Sophia was a hair taller, allowing her the leverage to pull Myra backwards.
As Sophia tried to wrench Myra’s head from her body, Myra regained her feet and flipped Sophia forward, her back landing hard on the carpet. Myra’s claws appeared above her eyes, Sophia bringing up both arms to protect her neck.
But before Myra could strike, the lights came back on and loud alarms rang through the house. No doubt, the police would zoom to this break-in. Myra kicked open the doors leading to the back porch. She jumped over the side, followed by the four others. Alpha went to chase, but Sophia held him back.
