by Justin Sloan
“Wrong,” Talden said, stepping up beside Jackson and standing tall. “They listened to you, Morgan. That was their mistake.”
“Just like any that go with you now will, I’m certain, find that to be a mistake.”
“We’ll have vengeance for this,” Ella said, moving for the door. “Come, Morgan, we’re done with these lovers of vampires and Weres.”
Morgan looked about to hesitate, but when Baxter flicked on his arc rod, she moved to follow Ella. When they were gone, a handful of others followed, but they left the bodies where they were, for Jackson’s people to deal with.
Baxter grunted and slid the door shut, secured it, and then turned back to the room, waiting.
Talden cleared his throat, and said, “Boys, we’ll have a burial for them. But for now, get ‘em outside. Baxter, get Jackson here a drink.”
“My pleasure,” Baxter said, moving back to his spot behind the bar.
“You were gone a few days,” Talden said as he and Jackson moved to the bar. The others were hovering around as if not sure whether joining in the conversation was the right move or not.
“She’s not bad,” Jackson said, referring to Valerie. They didn’t all get it, he could tell by the unsure looks in their eyes.
“If you say so, boss,” Baxter said, handing two whiskies to the men on the other side of the bar.
“But with Ella out there stirring up trouble,” Talden said, shaking his head, “we’re bound to need all the help we can get. When she had Morgan on her side, I knew there was more to all this. But vampires? Weres?”
“It’s all real, dammit.” He tilted back his head and downed the whiskey. It burned and tasted of cinnamon, but after that near explosion with Morgan and Ella, he needed it. “She wouldn’t admit it if you asked, and I shouldn’t be saying anything… but the cat’s out of the bag, isn’t it?”
“Cat, sir?” Baxter asked, puzzled.
Jackson waved the comment off. “I mean, Ella kind of said everything already, so there’re no secrets being revealed here, right?”
“Doesn’t mean we believed it,” Talden said.
“As much as I tried to make them,” Lorain chimed in, reaching for a glass of whiskey. Baxter promptly slid the glass away from her, then offered it to the next person over. She glared.
“Give the girl a break,” Jackson said. “She’s one of the very few willing to go head to head with Morgan for me. If that doesn’t get you a drink, I don’t know what will.”
“Did you… actually sleep with the vampire?” a man to Jackson’s left asked, earning him a whack over the counter from Baxter.
“You know that’s none of our business,” Baxter said, but couldn’t help giving Jackson a curious look.
“As you said,” Jackson replied, shaking his head. “I’m not here to spread rumors or kiss and tell. I’m here to see that my people are safe, which, apparently, they aren’t. Anyone running around with Ella right now’s in trouble. She’s a loose cannon, a half-cocked pistol ready to explode in your face if you pull that trigger. And now that Valerie’s on the prowl…”
“Care to explain that one?” Talden said, taking a sip from his whiskey. He licked his upper lip, likely a nervous twitch more than to ensure he got every drop of the liquor.
“When we planned the attack on Enforcer HQ, just after Strake had been ousted, we knew we were dealing with the supernatural,” Jackson said. “That wasn’t new for most of us.” He glanced over at Lorain who, he knew had doubted the existence of the supernatural until only recently. Some in the city knew, especially those that hid in the shadows and lived underground. Others managed to stay sheltered. “What none of us knew, was how powerful she was.”
“So the fights that night…?” Talden leaned into the bar, resting on one elbow as he finished the whiskey. “It was what we suspected?”
“An internal war, yes. Vampire versus vampire, and the good side won.” Jackson scooted his glass toward Baxter and nodded for him to fill it up. “Let me tell you, she’s out of this world.” He laughed, realizing how true that was. “But I mean, her power is like nothing we’ve ever seen, and we’re damn lucky to have her on our side. Morgan and Ella, and the rest who went with them?” He sighed, watching Baxter pour the brown liquid into his glass. “If they follow this path, I doubt very much we’ll be seeing them again… alive, anyway.”
“I won’t let any harm come to Morgan,” Talden said, and his knuckles were white from gripping the glass.
Jackson looked at the old man, and nodded. He knew all about the old flame this man carried for Morgan, a life long ago left behind, but not the memories of it. Whether Morgan felt the same or not was never clear, but few didn’t know of Talden’s love for her. In fact, Jackson was quite surprised the old man’s feelings hadn’t clouded his judgment in their current predicament.
It was just one more testament to the man’s character.
“Then we’ll have to get her back to our side, and quick.” Jackson accepted the drink from Baxter and stood, glass raised. “To new beginnings, to survival, and to bringing us back together, in unity.”
The room roared, some cheering and others stamping their feet. They had their leader back, Jackson was with his people again. Aside from that gaping hole in his heart that yearned for Valerie.
He felt at home again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Old Manhattan Streets
Valerie’s first instinct after passing judgment on the people who had bombed Enforcer HQ was to rush back and check on everyone. If any of them were hurt, she’d be devastated. If Sandra, Jackson, or Diego were hurt, she’d tear this city a new asshole.
She leaped along the buildings until she reached a good vantage point, and then sighed with relief. The fortifications she’d had the Weres put up around Enforcer HQ had kept the damage to a minimum. Yes, the doors had been blown off, and the glass walls, but that was to be expected. From what she could see, there was no blood and there weren’t any body parts strewn about, and it was entirely feasible that no one had been harmed.
Her insides clenched with the thought that maybe she passed judgment too fast. Maybe the two she’d killed didn’t deserve death?
But no, she shook that thought aside as fast as she could. They had tried to kill her and everyone she loved. Their intent was harm, murder, destruction, and she couldn’t be double-guessing justice in these situations. To do so would mean a stall in terms of the progress of this city.
Several police pods came zooming around the side of the building, likely heading out to look for any sign of their attackers and set up a perimeter to look for any second wave attacks.
As one passed overhead, a strange feeling of warmth and comfort swept over Valerie, and she knew, though she didn’t understand how she knew, that Sandra was in that pod.
She was tempted to follow it, but knew the protocol—when they found nothing, they’d return to HQ and figure out a way to ensure such an attack never happened again. They’d regroup, send out soldiers into the streets, and discuss ways to stop the underground movement against them.
Only they no longer needed to have such discussions. Valerie was taking care of that. She was the Justice Enforcer, and would pull the rotting weeds from this city.
But first, she figured it was time for a drink.
Not because she was thirsty, but because she only now realized how draining the pursuit of those two had been, in addition to leaping across buildings to reach this spot.
She’d filled the secret pockets of her jacket with small vials of blood, and now reached in and pulled one out. Holding it up to the light, she watched how it coated to the nearly indestructible glass.
It was a vile act, drinking blood, but one she’d come to not only be fine with, but enjoy. The way it moved through her reminded her of the way Jackson’s fingers felt as he gently ran them up and down her back.
If only Jackson’s touch had the healing ability blood had, she’d just keep him around at all times. She laughed at th
e thought of him hanging around during fights so that he could caress her skin and heal her, but it was a silly thought. She drank the vial in two sips, and then placed it in her coat for later.
This time, instead of leaping from the building and using up energy, she took the stairs. She’d been in a hurry to get out here on the streets and make a difference, but now that she was here, she realized she didn’t know exactly where to start.
She gave herself a little extra push to get down the stairs faster, but nothing that would drain her.
At the bottom she glanced around at the night, appreciating the light drizzle that had replaced the torrential downpour. She was soaked, and so decided she had a starting point.
The red door—Jackson’s uncle.
She made her way over to Capital Square and knocked, but there was no response. A glance back showed that the square was quite crowded, in spite of the rain, and she decided it would be a good idea to simply walk among the people. Not many of them recognized her, she imagined, and there’d be so many people it would be hard to pick her out of the crowd.
About half-way down the street and toward the square, she stopped at a familiar smell of meat. The hot dog vender was there, just getting his grill going, with a large umbrella canopy overhead.
Smart.
Jackson had offered this man money for information that first time she’d met Jackson. Money for information.
It was worth a try.
She fished around in her pockets and found the secret one where she’d put the main stash of coins from Commander Strake’s office.
Taking out a couple of the copper ones, she approached and slid them into his money tray.
The man, in a long raincoat and wearing a cap, glanced up at her with curiosity. “Either you’re buying dogs for a party, or you’re in the wrong place.”
“I was with Jackson before, Jackson Mercer.”
He pursed his lips at that and cocked his head. “And that makes us best friends?”
“I’m a nice person to have on your friend list.”
He considered that, and then smiled wide as he pocketed the money. “Haven’t seen him.”
“I have. But that’s not why I’m here.”
“What is it then?” His hand went to the money in his pocket, as if debating whether it was worth keeping. “There’s been talk of trouble lately, the kind I’m not sure I need.”
“Exactly why I’m here. What sort of trouble?”
He frowned, flipped a couple hotdogs, and then breathed out as he made up his mind. “I’ve heard of you. We all have.”
“What’ve you heard?”
He glanced at the money tray, and she slapped another coin down.
“Word on the street is you play with dark magic, the kind that’ll bring up demons in the night.”
She nearly laughed at that. “So this is a witch hunt now?” She shook her head. “Not good enough. I wanna know where I can find the people talking. I need to know where people like that hang out, and,” she leaned in, lowering her voice, “if you know anything about a blood trade, I wanna hear about that, as well.”
He scrunched his nose at the last one, and she figured that was enough to know he wasn’t versed in the vampire ways or the hunt for their blood. She’d put a stop to it, as far as she knew, but she had to ensure it wasn’t still being bought and sold.
If it was, the people who wanted it would soon want more, and when there’s a short supply, people get dangerous.
But she meant to cut it off early and make sure anyone involved was out of her city.
“Can’t help you with blood,” he said. “Though a word of wisdom from me to you is that, if you go talking about that stuff, the demon rumors are only gonna grow stronger.”
She nodded, “And the source of information?”
He sighed. “I shouldn’t be saying nothing, but since you and Mercer are buddy-buddy, I’ll let this one slide.” His eyes darted from side to side, and then he lowered his voice as he pulled a couple of hotdogs from the grill, placing them in their buns.
“I promise, I can be discreet,” she said.
“You didn’t hear this from me,” he handed her one of the hotdogs, then smothered it with catsup for her. “They say there’s a woman in the bar with the green door, across the square. You want answers, you go to her.”
Valerie frowned. “Please tell me you’re not talking about Cammie.”
His eyes went wide. “You know her?”
“Give me my money back.”
“Hold on, hold on.” He held up his hands. “You wanted answers about all this, I’m telling you names I’ve heard and where to find them.”
“Tell me more than just the one, and maybe we can stay friends.”
He looked at her nervously and nodded. “If the rumors about you are true, you’re not going to scare off from venturing into the darker parts of town, are you?”
She shook her head and assessed the hotdog, then took a bite.
“Good, right?” he said.
She just nodded and chewed, waiting.
“The best in all the city,” he said with a smile. “Just like this intel I’m about to give you… but let’s just say your payment hardly covers it. I tell you this because we’re such close friends.”
She swallowed her food and said, “Indeed.”
“You don’t want to be hanging out in the crowded parts of town for what you’re after. Go up to the old graveyard, used to be part of what was Central Park, back in the old world. There, you just gotta be smart and you might get lucky.”
“You have a name for me?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I really wish I did. That’s not a part of town I venture into… though I’ve heard rumors of a place they call The Cat’s Eye. You find that place, I imagine you’ll have all the answers you’re looking for.”
“Thank you,” she said, and turned to leave.
“The hotdog’s on the house,” he said. “Just, you know, in case you were thinking about paying for it.”
She turned back to him, smiled and took another bite before walking off into the darkness.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Over the Streets of Old Manhattan
The streets had their normal people milling about, with nothing out of the ordinary as far as Sandra could see from the back of the police pod. She’d brought her sniper rifle and was ready in case they thought they found the people responsible for the attack on Enforcer HQ, but she knew it was a long shot.
What a time for Valerie to decide to fight the war by herself, Sandra thought. It peeved her that Valerie hadn’t come back to check on her, and that she didn’t have her best friend with her through this.
True, they’d been more like master and slave for much of their relationship, but Sandra had never really seen it that way.
“I’m still totally confused,” Peterson said, driving while Wallace and Sandra looked out the pod windows. “Who’s in charge of this city?”
“Right now it’s a bit like a board of directors,” Wallace said. “We have Donnoly taking charge of the police—”
“Because you handed over the reins, even though Valerie gave you control?”
“Right. Me taking control at the time made sense, but this was the only way to get Anderson out of the way.”
“That corrupt son of a bitch,” Peterson growled. “But Jackson and the factions?”
“As far as I can tell, Jackson’s out there working that angle now,” Sandra said. “At least, that’s what I gathered. Then we have Royland keeping the vampires in check, Cammie, the Weres, with the help of Duran and Victor, who take the shifts out on patrols. I’m not sure we need one main leader, at least not yet. While we figure out this city, it makes sense to keep it organized by separate parts… at least, I think so.”
“Who made you the City State expert?” Peterson asked. “No offense, I’m genuinely wondering where this is coming from.”
“No, I mean, I know as little as the rest of you all
, when it comes to actual experience.” She paused, thinking she might have seen something moving in the shadows below, but then it was gone. Possibly Valerie? She shook it off, ignoring it. “Back in France, there was a lot of downtime. My role was basically to serve the vampires, train in combat in case they needed me, occasionally let them feed on me and—”
“Hold the fuck up,” Wallace said. “Occasionally you let them feed on you?”
She felt her cheeks blush with annoyance. “Yes, that’s what I said. I was happy to help my masters heal, and—”
“MASTERS?”
“Will you shut the hell up so I can finish my story?” She stopped watching outside and flicked him in the ear—a little something she’d learned from Valerie. “Yes, damn, they were my masters, and fed on me. Get over it. Valerie let me drink of her blood too and, stop, before you interrupt me, it was beautiful. Something you’ll never understand. And it healed me too, kept me young, and what I was trying to say was that there was a lot of downtime, but there are some in France who pride themselves on discussing what the City States of Europe will evolve into as recovery proceeds. I spent a lot of time reading all the papers I could get a hold of, propaganda you could call it, that went on and on about the best way to rule the people. So I picked up some of it, and began to form my own opinions.”
“So you had time to think between blood-feeding sessions,” Wallace said, grossed out. “I’m starting to wonder if maybe Ella isn’t so wrong here.”
“Hey,” Peterson pulled the pod over to a stopping point, lowering it so it hovered ten feet off the ground between two buildings. “She’s my sister and I love her, but we’ve chosen our side, and she betrayed our trust by running off like that. You want to join her and fight against Valerie, get the hell out right now.”
Wallace looked at him with a frown, then back to Sandra. He raised his eyebrows and tried to laugh, but it was forced. “Sorry, you’re right. It’s just, how could she feed on you, Sandra? That doesn’t sit right with me.”
