“Can I be honest with you?” he asks me, pushing off the tree with the slightest wince of pain from the movement on the various cut up or bruised areas.
“Of course,” I reply.
“I honestly don’t care.” Not what I was expecting. “You don’t know what it feels like to have lost your family, let alone before your eyes. A child that truly had no part in this war to begin with. She was an accessory to a crime. She was going to be the salvation of my people. A unifying bond between witch and werewolf. The beacon of hope to lead both parties into a brighter future, and she was cut down and killed because Aliana didn’t want to kill a child. Do you know that kind of drive? I doubt it. This war will continue until Daffyd’s head is mine. He will suffer for his crimes against myself and my kind.”
What more can I say?
Chapter Thirty-Four: Edison
“Today we have Senator Edison Trafalgar joining us. Spearheading the campaign for human rights, Senator Trafalgar has joined us to discuss the new bill, the implications it will have, and giving power back to the people in a time where it is lost. Senator…”
I’ve always loved the limelight. Sitting here in front of the cameras where behind them thousands of people watch as I say my words to inspire peace, love, and understanding. The most powerful tool in my arsenal. Breaking the norms. Giving those who have been so brainwashed by years of politicians feeding them what they want to hear. I do the same, of course. The only difference being my voice has always been for them. Believed for them, rather. Only to further my own agendas. This news report is no different. I sit and listen as they drone on about me. Talking me up today and slandering my name tomorrow. A news room is a fickle place. They don’t care about the facts. All they want is the next big story that will give them the most notice.
What a time to be alive.
“Thank you, Laura. It’s great to be here with you, and thank you for having me on today. I would just like to start out by saying it’s a great honor to be here with you, and to the people listening in from home, thanks for tuning in.” The ever caring, kind-natured soul. These interviews…that’s true acting. Watching a man run his mouth on some action film is easy. He only needs to do it for a few months, and then he can go back to his petty existence. In the game of politics, you play your cards close to your vest, the mask never ceasing to break.
“Senator, will you tell us about your new bill and what it would mean for the supernatural races?” asks Laura Dunny, a fine young lady, the morning news on WNO. She’s going to be good for my career. A constant smile in the face of turmoil. We are very much alike.
“The Human Rights Act is not meant to deter the supernatural community before any negative stigma about the bill is conjured. What the Human Rights Act is supposed to do is to give us a fighting chance if the supernatural community tries to strike on us the same way they are currently doing with each other. A small town in the middle of America has been ravaged by war for the last decade. A decade of turmoil for the people who live there. Who face up to these beings and have been for far too long. The Vampire King, Daffyd Llanneli, up against a werewolf alpha. Now that fight has taken to the people, where before it had not. Buildings collapsed under the weight of a magical attack, killing hundreds of innocent people.” I’m calm. Deep down there is nothing but seething rage. Unlike many, I do believe that we have to stand together as people. In these trying times even more.
“Vampires, witches, werewolves…hell, even gods. If legends are true and the tales we’ve read and enjoyed are true, these things come after us and use us as playthings and a supply of food, and I’m not going to let this go. What I propose is that a supernatural being must be tagged. They must let themselves be known to the people so that the people can stand a chance. They should have nothing to hide. Why would a vampire be afraid of a man? Even if the man knows he’s a vampire? What could we really do…”
Laura listens intently.
“And what about supernatural activist groups?” Her next question is one that I have considered and thought long and hard about.
“Supernaturals aren’t a community that needs activist groups,” I answer. “They are not a minority in their own right. Supernatural activist groups are nothing more than teen girls who have romanticized the idea of being a vampire or a werewolf, or with all the books that are widely available, a partner to them. They have kept themselves out of our society for however long, right? So how can they assume they can just walk in now? The bill is not to hinder any progress on making them a part of our communities. It’s just a safe and easy way to integrate them into our natural state of affairs. They can work, they can come to community events, and they can generally have an easy, normal life among the community. My plans are to work closely in hand with the Agency of Supernatural Hunters in this matter. I believe that their agenda will meet with mine. They keep them under wraps and have since long before you and I knew that the supernatural community existed, so why not integrate them into modern society? Have them be a part of our world. Together, we can build a new future.”
Very well put. I nailed this interview. I can’t help but think it. After all, it’s not every day you’re at the forefront of one of the greatest times in history. Like Lincoln, Washington, and so many others, I am a part of something greater.
I lose myself in the imagination that someday I will be a great man. Or rather, a greater man. Love, adoration, and appreciation from those around me. Something I’ve always had from the people, but something that can only get stronger. I’ve always worked hard to build this reputation. The man men want to be and women want to be with. She speaks on, and I don’t listen to a word she says, lost in thought.
“Is there anything else, Senator?” She asks me, and I nod.
“Yes. This is the perfect time to formally announce that I will be running for the presidency. We’ve had great men lead us in the past and great men that will lead us in the future. To be a part of that great order would be an honor.”
I can see on her face she wasn’t expecting that. I was. I had it all planned out.
“On those astounding words, it’s top of the hour. Here’s Bruce Finch with the weather…”
Chapter Thirty-Five: Daffyd
“So, this is it,” I ask Hamish. A look of confusion washes over his face.
“What’s it?” he replies. He no doubts thinks I mean the troops. No. That’s not what I meant. They are by no means a small force. Overlooking the castle grounds, tens of thousands of vampires are across the ground either in different formations or lazily sitting around, still knowing that the battle is underway. Fledglings, lieutenants, warring parties, and more are all extending out over my beautiful land. Some shout and do chants. Others revel among one another in good times and the lot. Some know they will never return and this initial striking force, already far outnumbering the wolves, are ready. Day turns to night, and darkness consumes the land.
“My people,” I shout over the crowd, “each one of you here today is here for one thing. A simple task that must be carried out. Bringing the head of Romulus to your king.”
I’ve never needed a system bigger than my own voice to shout over a crowd. Now? Well, that changed, and it did so in such a small timeframe that I can’t say I was ready for it. The estimations we brought in for the first strike were no more than fifteen thousand. Hamish has sorted out a makeshift personal announcement system, but it was not working right for a while and with time not something we can spare, I don’t wait.
“This is the death of hope,” in answer to my original question. He brings me the microphone.
“The death of hope?” Again, shock pouring over his features.
“Yes, Hamish. For the wolves, that is,” I finish, turning my attentions to the vampires.
“Tonight, you will face a great triumph,” The porch on which I stand, my soapbox, the microphone in my hand, my sword, my voice?
The power to persuade.
“The wolves who joined this war di
d so under blind and terrible rage. An act of weakness on their alpha, Romulus’ part. Tonight, they will suffer their greatest defeat. With you at their throats, ripping and tearing until they are no more and when the sun rises, we will band together in celebration over a victory that should have been had years ago. We will watch as the forest burns and the werewolves with it. We will watch as the light drains from their eyes, knowing that there is no longer a chance for victory. We will watch and we will celebrate as they dance and beg and cry for mercy, and what will we give them?”
The crowd roars with thunderous echo.
Death.
“That is right, my brothers and sisters. We will bring them to their knees. Leave them battered and broken, whimpering on the floor. They will not recover from this loss. They will have no means. Reduce them to the puppies they are. Maul and maim. Do not leave a trace of the werewolf scourge to be seen in our city.” In my younger years, I always believed that together we could create a city for vampires. One that’s there but not there. The population of our own drastically increased over the years, specifically during the evolution of western technology, with various companies being set up that skyrocketed into massive organizations, which brought my plans to the ground. Now? We will coexist with the humans. Witches, werewolves, and the lot all dead and buried.
“So, go out, strike the forest, and tear the wolf empire to its barest structure. Let them weep your name in their dying breath. For we will not back down. We will not surrender. We will be victorious over the wolves and anyone who bands together with them, for they are nothing more than the dirt beneath our heel. For honor, for victory, for king and country. We will shatter their existence. Now go. Fight. Prove yourselves the warriors you are. Do not hold back.” Before me, the more ‘excitable’ vampires are cheering and readying themselves to rush into battle. They begin heading out, truly with no fear in their stride. This is what I wanted. “Show Romulus and his pack of feral hounds that there is nothing that we can’t do.” I hand the microphone back to Hamish.
“And that is why you’re the king.” I turn back to the crowd of vampires. Many are now racing toward the forest, pulling one another together. Shouting and screaming, hissing and growling.
They are ready.
Chapter Thirty-Six: Jack
Nervousness.
I know that I’m definitely feeling it. The stress of going out on a date with a beautiful woman. A thrill I haven’t partaken in in many years. So, now sat opposite Madison, with a glass of wine in front of her and a beer for me, wining and dining the way it was meant to be done. A perfect gentleman escorting his lovely lady for the evening. Now I know I’m nervous. I feel the strung-up tension building inside. Holding me down. Weighing heavily on every decision I make. I was once good at this, but life sucks that away eventually.
Madison on the other hand. She doesn’t seem nervous. Her usual soft, placid features, replaced with a sterner expression. She’s laughed and played with all night. Through the entire dinner. A beautifully cooked rare steak with a baked potato beside a small garden salad and chicken for her. I’ve always been a man that’s stuck to a routine at restaurants. No matter the disappointments I’ve faced and no doubt will face again, the choices are either steaks or burgers. Simple as that.
Now? She seems too serious for how the night and our relationship up to this point have been. A dark brooding that’s bubbled to the surface. I can’t help but worry. This could mean something very interesting regarding the case or something interesting regarding us.
“Is everything alright?” I ask. My voice cracks midway through the sentence. I’m tense and nervous. I can’t relax.
“No,” she replies. I know if it had something to do with her case she would have come to me. Could it have anything to do with Victor? I wonder a plethora of endless issues that seem to come to a stop when she opens her mouth to continue. “I’m upset, Jack. I didn’t think I was, and I thought the Agency could cure me of my feelings toward what happened with my parents, but it can’t.”
Right. Now I know where this is going, and I’m readying for a full-on tongue lashing. I keep quiet. She’s on the verge of tears. Her hand has clasped her wine glass so tightly that one more ounce of force will snap it at the stem. A mix of sadness and rage. The worst state to be in when confronting your demons.
“You flew me across the globe to my childhood home, where I was eager and excited to bring a smile back to the faces of my parents who long ago must have thought I was dead, only to tell me that they were dead. You drew out a process that would have taken two minutes here.” I listen and nod in agreement. That was a very stupid thing to do, but how can you shatter someone’s entire world like that.
“Listen,” I say, and she goes quiet, “I only did that because I thought the possible nostalgia may be a reasonable coping mechanism.” She wipes under her eye to stop tears from falling.
“A reasonable coping mechanism? You’ll scar someone for life like that. You did it intentionally, and it wasn’t just wrong; it was cruel. It was spiteful, and it was a pathetic move on your end. Now? You’re trying to suck up to me with fancy dinners and a couple of charming quotes I’m pretty sure you stole from rom-coms. I’ve been watching a lot of those lately, so I know that they all sound exactly the same. Just another cliché.” The tears have not subsided. Firey anger burns from inside.
“So, what? What do you want from me? I’m sorry, okay?” I apologize. “And I might be quoting movies, but the intentions are there.” That was the wrong thing to say.
“The intentions were there? That’s what you’ve got to say? You can’t actually take me out for a nice time, just the two of us, and come up with one original compliment?” I know the anger about the movie quotes is only hiding the truth about what she previously mentioned. I drink my beer, finish, and go back into listening to what she has to say. She’s said nothing. Instead, downed her wine in the same way.
“I know you must–”
“No, you listen here,” she cuts me off with the conviction only a woman can have, “this is not going to work. This isn’t one of the movies. It’s not that simple. Things don’t just go away. Your actions have consequences, and they won’t just be replaced by a charming smile and an apology. We work together. We’re not friends. We’re not the ‘will they, won’t they’ couple. We’re just colleagues. You’re my boss, and I’m an employee.”
“That’s it, huh?” I wave my hand in the air to the waiter, gesturing that he brings us the check. “Then so be it. We’ll go to strictly professional.”
I should have seen that coming. It was foolish to even try something like this. How could it work? She hasn’t experienced the world. All she’s got is what she learned in some vampire’s dream construction of paradise.
“Good,” I don’t know if she’s regretting the decision right off the bat. She’s turned sullen. That could be that she just brought up a good deal of memories that were repressed for whatever duration, stirring and bubbling to the surface until this collapse.
And then, my phone rings.
“Yes,” I reply. On the end of the line is Allan, an intelligence agent.
“The war’s on. The vampires are hitting the forest and ripping them to shreds. We need you back here to give the orders to the agents. We need to contain this. We don’t need any more bad press in this town,” he nearly shouts.
“Got it. Give me twenty,” I reply, putting the phone down. “Speaking of work. The vampires’ big strike on the wolves has begun.” I’m upset. Very much so. She is, too, but if she was serious about business being business, then this wouldn’t affect anything. Right now, we need all hands on deck.
I pay the bill, and we begin walking out. Madison stops for a second, and I turn to face her. She looks around and sees not what she searches for before catching up to me.
“What was that?” I ask, making my way to the door as fast as I can without seeming in too much of a panic for any onlookers.
She keeps quiet un
til we get out of the restaurant, for what I can only assume is the same reason involving the confidential nature of our business.
“You remember that power in the house? Not the Forsaken, but the other one? I’m feeling it again,” she says.
“Why hello, kittens,” a gruff English accent speaks out. We turn around to face him, and there Victor stands. His eyes instantly clung to my chest, where my father’s ring sits on a chain around it.
“Would you look at that? You’ve got quite the fashion sense, brother.” I shrug the comment off.
“You’re under are…” His hands grab me and Mason on a shoulder each. “…est!” I finish my sentence and we’re no longer where we stood. We’re in what looks like a tropical jungle. Surrounding us is a crudely-constructed wooden dome, the wooden frame held together by what looks like vines as if taken directly from the set of a movie that was based in some primitive tribal country.
“Teleported?” I ask, more to myself than anyone else.
“Yes,” Victor replies, “I don’t think you have much jurisdiction in Africa.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven: Romulus
The war has begun. It would have been foolish to assume that the strike wouldn’t have come the night after we breached the tunnels. In fact, it would have been foolish to assume that the strike wouldn’t be coming the day after I got kicked around. Daffyd is on a high, and I understand why. I don’t know what I could possibly do to remedy the situation. The vampires have breached our border and are pushing deeper into the forest. I am not ready for a fight. Not yet, that is. I need a few more days to heal. To recuperate. Ill timing and war wait for no man.
The Vampire Touch 3: A New Dawn Page 11
