Duel Nature

by John Conroe

  Like most, Lenny the rogue immediately sensed Tanya’s place in the scheme of things and was her enthralled vassal in a slow second.

  “Come with us, Leonard,” she said and he did.

  ***

  I kept my window cracked as we drove to the home of Chicago’s senior vampire. Lenny sat in back of the big Chevy Suburban, Tanya next to me up front, and Awasos was lolling about the open cargo area, which was the only space big enough for him. The rogue still stank and now we had a serious case of wet dog smell floating about the SUV.

  Calvin Langsdale, Master of Chicago, had been born in England in the late 1600’s. He was Turned at the age of twenty-nine and immigrated to America in the early 1800’s. Landing in Chicago, he had survived everything the windy city could throw at him, including the gang wars of Prohibition, and evil Al Capone.

  His home, which doubled as his headquarters, was in Chicago’s Lincoln Park neighborhood, where houses routinely sell for five to ten million dollars. Langsdale’s home, according to the Coven file that we had reviewed on the drive from Cincinnati, was originally constructed in 1896, had sixteen rooms total, with seven bedrooms and seven bathrooms. Twelve thousand square feet of French Provincial architecture with a dining room table that could seat fourteen. The lot it was on was standard for the area, with almost no land, but Calvin had solved that problem by buying all the properties around it, which cut down on the issue of nosey neighbors.

  I pulled to a stop in the semi-circular driveway, then rolled down the window to face the vampire sentry who was suddenly in my face.

  “Rover team 29. Langsford here?” I said by way of introduction. The sentry, a big box-headed vampire with long stringy hair and a heavy brow, glanced from me to Tanya, the sneer on his face sliding away even as recognition of my words hit.

  He looked in the back seat where Lenny the young rogue waited and finally noted the giant wolfy bulk of Awasos in the back cargo area. Eyes wider, he slid back into the open guard booth that was tucked under the front porch. When he came back forty seconds later with two more vampires, he was slightly more receptive to us, or at least Tanya.

  “Langsford will see you inside,” he said, addressing his comments to my vampire. I sighed, mentally preparing myself for what was sure to come next. Tanya patted my leg, then slid gracefully from the big SUV.

  I grabbed Lenny from the back seat, then hit the latch release for the back of the Suburban. Awasos jumped down, his 250 pounds landing lightly on the ground. All three Darkkin guards suddenly reevaluated the situation as his size became apparent. Tanya caught my grin, then read me like a book, smiling herself at my thought. If they only knew that’s his smallest shape.

  Our odd little group moved up the marble steps to the front doors entering the grand mansion where another five vampires waited. This obvious display of muscle was led by a mean looking bruiser who stood about three inches over six feet and must have weighed as much as Awasos.

  “Names?” he asked, dismissing me with a glance and leering at Tanya.

  “Christian Gordon, Tatiana Demidova, Coven Rover team 29,” she answered him, not bothering to introduce Lenny or Awasos.

  There was no sudden noise, rather a cessation of all noise and movement as the vampires froze. Rover team designations aren’t universally well known, but the Demidova name was huge in the Darkkin world, and Tanya was arguably its biggest celebrity.

  After a moment, one of the vampires farthest away, broke his stillness to flash through the door behind him.

  “Tom is just going to announce you Miss Demidova,” the leader said, his leer toned down ever so slightly.

  Tanya just nodded, settling into a manikin-like stillness of her own. I don’t do well with sitting still, so I continued to look around at the opulent surroundings, noticing the valuable antiques and expensive decorations. Part of me, a part I keep locked down inside, noticed the doorways, windows, camera system, and alarm sensors. It also noted which priceless sculptures and artifacts would make the best weapons. There was a lot of that to choose from, as the mansion was an updated version of the Gilded age lifestyle of the late 1800’s.

  When I was seven, my family went on vacation to the ocean. Newport, Rhode Island to be exact, and while we were there we toured the grand mansion, Breakers, which was built by a Vanderbilt in the 1890’s as a summer cottage. Huge, and ostentatious, Breakers has rooms literally plated in gold and platinum. Langsford’s place reminded me of that.

  Ornate carved marble and wood trim, ceilings eighteen feet high, priceless antiques and works of art, it was all intended to be overwhelming. The fact that I wasn’t overwhelmed was a testament to my last two years with Tanya and her mother, whose wealth dwarfed Langsford’s.

  The vampire, Tom, came back in. “Master Langsford will see you now. The wolf stays out here, though.”

  I glanced at Awasos, who heaved a canine sigh and promptly lay down, facing Tom and the door we went through.

  Langsford’s office was done, or maybe overdone, in the dark wooded English library format, which was appropriate as he was, after all, English.

  Seated behind a large ornate cherry desk that held pride of place in front of an immense stone fireplace, Langsford looked up as we entered. Eleven other vampires occupied various parts of the office, some standing near the Master of Chicago, while others lounged indolently in the oversized chairs and chaises. A cut crystal glass of brandy or whiskey sat near his hand, the matching crystal decanter standing at the desk corner.

  Being as it was the middle of his business 'day', Langsford was appropriately attired in a tailored suit of dark wool that cost more than my first car. Behind him stood two lady vampires, looking like night and day. The one at his right shoulder was dressed in dark slacks with a leather jacket over her white blouse, her dark brown hair in a business-like bun. The other was blonde, wearing a diaphanous gown of white, her long hair loosely flowing around her neck and shoulders, watching us with a carefully disinterested look on her face. At least until I pulled Lenny in behind me. I felt him twitch at the same time her eyes narrowed slightly. Well, well, well, that tells us who the careless vampire is.

  “Ah, the famous Full Blood, herself, gracing us with a visit,” Langsford said in a rich English accent.

  Generally, Rover Teams have blanket authority to complete their assignments, answering to the Elders for their actions. In most cases, a Master vampire would defer to the Rovers on site in a matter that required their presence. But vampires are territorial and no Master liked having Rovers on hand to usurp their authority. The fact that we were only three months into the job and that Tanya was a vampire celebrity didn’t help in many cases.

  I sighed again, already having an idea of how this would play out. Langsford noted my small huff of breath and turned his cool grey eyes on me. Sandy brown hair covered a high forehead, and framed high aristocratic cheekbones.

  “And her pet human,” he added, studying me with amusement.

  I shoved Lenny forward as Tanya began to speak.

  “Thank you for such a gracious welcome,” she said, her tone sardonic.

  “My heritage and Choice of mate aside, we’re here cleaning up a mess in your city,” she continued.

  Obviously not used to this kind of response, the master vampire frowned.

  “This is Lenny, who was Turned, here in Chicago, then left to fend for himself. He’s killed three humans in the last two weeks in the most blatant manner possible. The Coven assigned us to find him and stop him, as your organization has failed to do so.”

  “See here, Ms. Demidova, I run this city, not New York, and I’ll decide what needs cleaning up,” he responded crossly.

  “Actually, Mr. Langsford, you run this city at the whim of the Elders. But their whims can change rapidly! Now, who is responsible for Turning this man?” Tanya asked, her voice cold.

  It generally took a lot to get her pissed off during introductions, but the English vampire had managed it in mere seconds.

  Calv
in studied her for a few moments, reappraising the situation then waved a hand at the big bruiser who had never stopped ogling Tanya.

  Quick as thought, the big vamp grabbed Lenny by the throat, picked him effortlessly off the floor, then turned and smashed the young vampire’s head into one side of the marble fireplace, crushing the skull completely to paste. Immediately, two other men grabbed the twitching body and hauled it from the room so fast that only a few drops of blood spattered the floor.

  Chapter 3

  “Thank you for your assistance, Ms. Demidova. We’ll handle it from here,” Calvin said dismissively, speaking into the silence that had followed the rogue’s sudden death.

  To give her credit, Tanya ignored the sudden violence better than I did, hardly giving a sign that it bothered her. But my connection to her fed me a cold hard rage at the casual way the rogue had been destroyed, while my own inner demon flared into my mind at the sudden carnage. I wasn’t overly bothered by the death of the young rogue vampire, his murderous start to the vampire life didn’t really endear him to me.

  “It still doesn’t tell us who Turned him, and as you’ve precipitously killed the only one who could tell us, that makes things more difficult,” she said, arms crossed

  Langsford concentrated completely on Tanya, ignoring my presence. Vampires always see me as human, which can be useful, but sometimes, like now, was irritating. My temper was already rising from the way the security guys had been ogling my vampire; Langsford's casual dismissal of my role lifted the beginnings of a red haze across my vision. The tear shaped necklace around my neck suddenly warmed noticeably where it touched my chest. I reined in my temper at its warning.

  “You are accusing my people of an act against Coven law without evidence. The guilty Darkkin may have just been passing through,” Langsford said, his manner defiant.

  Actually, dude, we pretty much got the guilty party figured out, but then maybe so do you. Tanya snorted as this ran thru my mind, able to pick up the flavor of my thoughts if not the exact detail.

  “You’re amused?” he asked dangerously.

  “Yes, actually. But let's get back to the topic on hand – catching the guilty party,” she said smoothly.

  He leaned back, a smirk on his face.

  “Leave it to us little princess, we'll handle it. Unless you think a vampire with scarcely two dozen years’ experience will do better than a Master vampire who has held power in this city for a century and a half? Helped, no doubt, by your human Chosen, as if such a thing was even possible!” he laughed derisively. “Hell, you were a complete mute for most of the last fifteen years!” he said, referring to her long period of silence.

  The big guy that killed Len was openly laughing while waggling his eyebrows suggestively at Tanya.

  Several other vamps were sneering our way, but not, I noticed, the business-like woman behind Calvin. She was looking a bit worried.

  As well she should, as my anger was starting to rise like a red storm across my vision; the beast inside me squirming to get out. I have temper issues at the best of times and these were not them, but still I tried to control my anger.

  Tanya glanced my way, touched one finger to my clenched fist, then ghosted to the painting on far side of the room, studying it. My anger reined in by her touch, I watched her curiously as did the rest of the vampires.

  “Degas?” she asked.

  “Hmm, yes,” Langsford answered, intrigued and annoyed.

  She turned and wagged her index finger at me in a no-no signal before turning her attention back to the English vampire.

  “Calvin Langsford, Master of Chicago, do you know why my Chosen and I were selected to be Rovers?” she asked.

  “As most Rovers are at least a century of age and you not yet a quarter of that, I have to think it is a chance for Senka to thrust you into our faces,” he said.

  “Actually, both Elder Senka and Elder Tsao insisted on it, but perhaps I can repeat what my grandmother told me,” Tanya said, moving to look at a small statue of a horse and rider.

  She paused in her examination of the sculpture, standing straight then strangely she began changing her posture and facial expressions to become someone else. After a moment I realized she was imitating Elder Senka's mannerisms…exactly.

  She spoke and her voice was Senka's, right down to every Oxford inflected vowel and consonant.

  “Dearest granddaughter, you are, perhaps, wondering why you and young Christian have been selected as Rovers? Hmm, yes, so I thought,” Tanya began sounding like a recording of the most dangerous vampire on this continent.

  “There are, of course, several reasons, the first being that now is an appropriate time for the Darkkin society to meet you and Chris, as well as for you to meet them. But beyond that it will be a growth experience as you both will need to draw on your abilities and skills in ways you have never, and may never, have call to, here in New York. Those very abilities, which are so much more advanced than Darkkin hundreds of years your seniors, need to be honed and tempered, especially young Christian's. It will be a chance for you both to learn to control his dark side, which frankly dear, worries both Tsao and I no small amount. But there is also another reason to unleash the two of you on our world. Changes are coming Tatiana, threats to our way of life that are difficult for vampires to imagine. Human science and technology advances at speeds beyond all reason, bringing new weapons, genetic engineering, robots, unmanned drones and eventually, artificial intelligence. Our race needs to be prepared if we're to survive. Those vampires too stupid and stuck in their ways to adapt need to be weeded out, now, while there is time. You, my dear, and your Chosen, and his...pet, will be a terrible test of our society,” she said, then paused, shifting her mannerisms and body language to become Tanya again. “How do you mean grandmother?” she asked in her own voice before shifting back to her eerie Senka impersonation.

  “You are a prodigy at a tender twenty-four years of age, one that older vampires have difficulty comprehending. Your Chosen is all of two years old as we calculate these things, and he is terrifying as an infant, yet most Darkkin will see him only as a meal. They won't take either of you seriously, and the result, I'm afraid, will be something of a culling, as it were,” she finished with a cold chuckle that made even me forget who she was. “I think of your team as a force of unnatural selection, helping the Darkkin race to evolve.”

  Her affected speech and body language fell away, becoming her own again, and it was as if the spirit of Senka had left the room. The other vampires were speechless, frozen at the inhuman and unprecedented display of acting.

  She pointed at the statue then wagged her finger at me again, speaking this time. “Mind the Remington, Chris,” she said.

  Langsford was as shaken as his underlings, but he pulled himself together.

  “That was rather remarkable, although I have no idea why you feel we should believe it. And why do you treat your own Chosen like a dog, warning him away from furnishings?” he said. “He’s not going to pee on the carpets is he?”

  “She's telling him which pieces not to destroy, Master,” the serious brunette by his shoulder said suddenly.

  “Excuse me Claudette?” he asked, his face a cold mask.

  I gave the lady vamp credit, she had balls, because she ignored his expression and explained her comment.

  “It seems fairly clear, sir. Elder Senka expects vampires to challenge Tatiana's, ere, Ms. Demidova's Chosen, thinking him human and therefore not truly a Chosen. He will then kill them, removing them from Darkkin society. Ms. Demidova appears to believe such a challenge is imminent and is telling him which pieces of art to avoid,” she explained with quick glances at both Tanya and myself.

  Tanya smiled and touched one finger to the tip of her nose.

  “Claudette, you can't honestly buy into this drivel about Gordon here, can you?” he demanded with an angry wave in my direction.

  “Actually, sir, I have connections in New York; people I trust, and they all
tell stories about his battles – with werewolves, vampires and even Elder Fedor,” she said, obviously uncomfortable under his wilting gaze, focusing on me instead.

  “Ah, do you see how dangerous this…this propaganda is, Ms. Demidova? Even my assistant has begun to believe the drivel that is spreading about you. Enough for her to buy into your little act. But I think Dominick here is less gullible, eh, Dom?” he asked the big guy that had killed Lenny.

  “Oh, right you are Mr. Langsford, sir. I’m not one for theatre or fiction, but I’m not averse to playing bedroom games, ‘specially when the game involves such prizes,” he replied, looking Tanya over from top to bottom, focusing on her hips and chest.