House of Blood: (A Paranormal Urban Fantasy) (The Vampire Project Book 2)

by Jonathan Yanez

  Inside, the house opened into a living room, a kitchen to his right, and a half-open door in the rear. The window blinds were drawn, bathing the interior in darkness. The space was dusty and dank. The odor of ancient food caught in Aareth’s nose. At the same time, echoes of labored breathing caught his attention.

  The sound was coming from the room in the back. Aareth crossed through the apartment and placed a hand on the door. The noise of someone or something struggling for oxygen steadily grew. Slowly, Aareth opened the door, and it creaked forward with a groan.

  A body lay on the floor, quaking. A middle-aged man clutched at his own neck with both hands. Blood ran from a slit across his throat. In vain, he struggled to stem the tide.

  Glass had been shattered all around the room, telling Aareth everything he needed to know. He had missed the attack by a minute, maybe less. He passed the man’s body, leaning out the window to see if they were safe. Nothing. No sign of even a fleeing figure.

  Rage readying itself for a fight still flowed heavy in his veins. He knelt beside the dying man as Abigail walked into the room. Her eyes were huge.

  Aareth had seen death enough to know the man had seconds left. There was no saving him now. All Aaron Jebson could do in his last moments was help Aareth in giving him the answer he so desperately sought.

  “Who did this to you?” Aareth knelt close to the man. “Tell us! Was it a woman?”

  “Not human… A pale man…” the dying scientist rasped as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. “A scar…”

  “Were you in Burrow Den?” Aareth pushed, fearing he would lose the man before he had his answers. “Tell me.”

  “Yes.” The answer was already fading as it exited his lips.

  “Who did you work for? Was it Doctor Livingston?”

  The man gurgled something unintelligible. A new wave of blood seeped from his mouth. The last thing Aareth caught before the man’s eyes went lifeless were two words: “The Order.”

  “I need more answers,” Aareth raged as he grabbed the dead man by the shoulders. “Did you ever see a woman? Did she have a tattoo on her wrist?”

  There was no answer from the corpse.

  “I need to know, I need to know!” Reason left Aareth as frustration took over. “Tell me!”

  His wrath was all-consuming. So much so, he barely felt the gentle hand on his shoulder.

  “He’s gone,” Abigail said.

  Aareth released the body, letting it fall to the floor like a marionette with broken strings. He calmed himself, breathing in heavy droughts of air. He needed to focus. Blind rage would get him nowhere. He knew that firsthand from his time as an assassin.

  “Who are you looking for?” Abigail removed her hand from his shoulder. “A woman with a tattoo?”

  “It’s stupid, but I have to be sure. I saw her body after she died. If there’s even the slightest chance she could still be alive, then I have to find out.”

  “Who?” Abigail asked.

  Aareth gave the girl a sideways glance. It was information he hadn’t shared with Sloan or Jack. Something deep within him said Abigail could be trusted. “My wife.”

  Jack

  Livingston Industries was a massive collection of buildings occupying an entire block within the city. Smokestacks rose to the heavens, permeating the air with fumes. Workers walked in and out of a gated security checkpoint leading into the facility grounds.

  “This place looks as big as the palace,” Jack breathed as he matched strides with Sloan. “And with enough security to match.”

  “You’re probably not far from the truth, Jack.” Sloan motioned with a clenched hand for the company of city soldiers around her to halt. She walked to a security booth where a pair of armed guards stood carrying heavy barreled weapons. They wore dark brown uniforms stamped with the Livingston Industries sigil of an “L” and “I” producing fumes like smokestacks, the two letters surrounded by a gear.

  “Captain Sloan here to see Doctor Livingston,” Sloan spoke without the slightest hint of patience. “Open your gates.”

  The guards looked from one to another for a consensus.

  “Are you expected, Captain?” one of them finally asked, breaking the growing silence. “We don’t have you on the visiting manifest.”

  “I don’t have to be expected.” Sloan leaned into their booth. “I’m on the queen’s business. Now open your gates.”

  The conflict at the entrance to the grounds was drawing attention. Two more security guards walked over from the left, a woman Jack had never seen before from the right.

  She was tall with an athletic build like Sloan. She also wore a brown uniform, but hers was different. Insignias and a gold lining designated her rank. Her black boots crossed the pavement. In a few seconds, she ordered the gates open, then stood in front of Jack and Sloan.

  “Captain, you are of course welcomed inside.” She offered a gloved hand. “My name is Commander Ashley Brookhaven. I’m the head of Doctor Livingston’s security force.”

  “I’ve never seen you before.” Sloan accepted the offered hand. “Are you new?”

  “I’ve been in Doctor Livingston’s employment for some time. Only recently have I been given the authority to oversee his security team.” The commander turned to look at Jack. “And you must be Jack Walker. It’s an honor. Your father was a great man.”

  Jack exchanged a handshake with the commander. Her grip was surprisingly strong, and not because she was a woman. Her hand felt like a steel trap crushing his palm. An intensity burned in her eyes like a wild animal hunting prey. Just as quickly as the glance appeared, it was gone.

  “Thank you.” Jack shook free of her grip. His fingers felt numb. He studied the commander, noticing the hilt of a weapon poking over her right shoulder. A sword, much like Sloan’s, was sheathed in a brown covering.

  “I’ll take you to Doctor Livingston myself.” The commander looked from Sloan to her company of queen’s soldiers. “It may not be advantageous to show you around in such a large group. We aren’t exactly set up to give guided tours, with all of the workers rushing in and out and the level of dangerous material we work with here at the facility.”

  “All right.” Sloan turned to address the group of New Hope soldiers. “Private Pia?”

  “Yes, ma’am?” A dark-haired girl gave Sloan a tight salute.

  “Wait here with your company,” Sloan ordered. “We’ll be back shortly.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” the private said.

  “This way.” The commander motioned with an outstretched arm. As the trio began walking through the facility grounds, Commander Brookhaven set her eyes forward. It was obvious this would be a quiet trip.

  The commander’s silence was fine with Jack. There was more than enough to see. Inside the main gates, the buildings were guarded like fortresses. Jack counted twenty security guards before he stopped keeping track. They were stationed on the rooftops, at every entrance, and patrolled the grounds like watchdogs.

  Apparently, Commander Brookhaven demanded respect wherever she went. Security guards walked straighter when they noticed her approach. Some offered head nods or salutes. She ignored them all.

  The group headed for the largest building on the grounds—a stronghold made of crimson red brick. On the very top of the structure were a large “L” and “I” spitting vapors into the air.

  Inside, the lobby was busy, with construction crews working on large boxes connected with cables and gears.

  “What are those?” Jack asked without taking his eyes off of the contraptions.

  “Our newest project.” The commander led them to a wide staircase on the other side of the construction zone. “When it’s completed, stairs will be an afterthought. They’re called elevators.”

  Jack’s imagination ran away with him as he looked over his shoulder at the boxes. He could only guess at how they would work. The commander wasn’t offering any further information.

  As they jogged up the stairs, it was Sl
oan’s turn to break the silence. “That’s a nice weapon you have there, Commander. May I see it?”

  They breached the last stair that opened up onto a long, flat level with a set of oak double doors at the end. A pair of guards stood sentry.

  “Certainly.” The commander spoke slowly as if still deciding on an answer before it came to her lips. In one smooth motion, she unsheathed her blade and passed it to Sloan.

  If there was any question whether or not the sword was a mage-powered weapon like Sloan’s, the mystery was soon solved. The main difference between the two weapons was the actual blades themselves.

  Sloan’s sword was a saber with a thick guard on the pommel to protect her hand when fighting.

  Commander Brookhaven’s weapon was a thick, two-handed one more befitting of a knight than a normal, everyday security officer.

  Jack watched as Sloan flicked the switch on the sword’s pommel with her thumb. On command, the weapon hissed to life. A tiny shot of steam escaped as the blade turned a dull blue.

  “Hmmm…” Sloan tested the weapon for balance. “And I thought I was the only one—whoops!”

  The sword fell, escaping from Sloan’s sure grip. Much too quickly, though, and much faster than Jack had ever been or could ever be, the commander’s hand shot forward and grabbed the hilt before it hit the ground.

  A moment of awkward silence passed as the commander turned off her weapon. Jack knew Sloan was thinking the same thing about the woman’s speed.

  “Nice reflexes.” Sloan held the commander’s gaze without a smile. “I’m sure those come in handy from time to time.”

  “This way.” The commander met Sloan’s gaze with a cold stare of her own. She sheathed her sword.

  Jack and Sloan followed the commander to the end of the level. The two security guards at the door stood at attention as the commander knocked.

  “Yes?” Doctor Livingston’s voice penetrated the barrier. “Come in.”

  Jack felt a wave of awe wash over him. The room was spotless, with almost everything made from or outlined with gold. The floor was made of dark wood with sparkling gold specks; the desk and chairs were cushioned and outlined with gold. The man standing behind the desk even wore gold-framed glasses.

  “Sloan, Jack.” He used their names as if they were longtime friends. Standing, he met them halfway across the room with warm handshakes. “I’ve told you you’re always welcome to visit, Captain. I’m glad you finally took me up on my offer. And Jack, I’m sorry to hear about your father. Anything you need at all, you only have to name.”

  “Thank you.” Jack stood shocked by the warm reception. He had only ever met Dr. Livingston once in passing as they were ready to depart for Burrow Den.

  “Please”—the doctor motioned them forward to two seats in front of his desk—“sit.”

  “Would you like me to stay, sir?” The commander’s cold tone contrasted Doctor Livingston’s warm one.

  “No, thank you, Commander Brookhaven. That will be all.”

  The commander give a stiff bow. She walked out of the room, closing the doors behind her.

  “Since when do you have a bodyguard?” Sloan crossed her legs in her chair. “She seems … well trained.”

  “Who? Commander Brookhaven?” The doctor sat in his high-backed chair. Through an enormous window behind him, there was a perfect view of the city. “She’s been with me for a long time. Only recently has she shown promise, thus promoted to her current rank. But let’s not talk about her. Tell me what I can do for you, Charlotte.”

  Jack could practically feel all of the joy sucked from the room as Sloan bristled at the mention of a first name she hated for a reason still unknown to him.

  Sloan cleared her throat, buying herself time to calm her temper.

  “We found some interesting clues while we were in Burrow Den,” Jack jumped in. “We thought you may be able to help.”

  “Really?” The doctor leaned forward in his chair. He looked from Jack to Sloan. “What kind of clues?”

  “We were attacked by a group of outlaws led by an assassin named Scar. They were riding some kind of mage-powered bicycles stamped with your emblem,” Sloan said, cutting straight to the point. “And he wasn’t exactly human.”

  Jack winced at her abruptness. Regardless of Sloan’s tactic, he waited eagerly to see what the doctor’s reaction would be.

  If the doctor was guilty of such a crime or knowledge of one, he showed no sign. His eyebrows rose past the frame of his glasses in shock. “My sigil was stamped on these contraptions, you say?”

  “That’s right.” Sloan’s tone was free from any emotion.

  “Well, I’m sure I don’t know of—wait, wait just a moment.” Doctor Livingston opened a drawer in his desk. He pulled out a large folder. “You can imagine with an operation as large as my own, I don’t see every project through from inception to completion. At any given time, there are dozens of inventions underway. I do, however, remember seeing a report about some stolen product from one of my warehouses.”

  Jack watched as the doctor flipped through a stack of papers and pulled one out. He turned the page upside down so both Sloan and Jack could see. It was a long list of missing products including beakers, tables, tools, ingredients Jack couldn’t even pronounce, and something marked at the end as “Project Mage Cycle.”

  “So”—Sloan picked up the paper for closer inspection—“you’re saying that all of these things were stolen from you, despite the army of a security force you have and that ice queen commander of yours?”

  “Well, no.” The doctor leaned back in his chair once more. “I increased my security because of the stolen goods. I’m happy to say that since I made the changes, nothing more has been taken or marked as missing.”

  Jack found himself wanting to believe the man. If he was in fact lying, he had chosen a means in which his story was foolproof. How could they prove either way if the items had been stolen or used by Doctor Livingston?

  “What about a scientist you have in your employment, one named Aaron Jebson?” Sloan placed the report back on the desk. “He was working on a project in Burrow Den.”

  “You’ve seen the grounds and the number of workers I employ.” Doctor Livingston swiveled in his chair to look outside. “I can’t say for sure that I’ve never met him, but the name doesn’t ring a bell. Why do you ask?”

  “He was found with a very disturbing journal.” Sloan used the pointer finger on her right hand to tap the list of missing products. “He was also working on a project that was aided by your tools. Tools that seem to be on the list you have there.”

  “Well, I don’t know anything about the goings-on in Burrow Den, besides what the city paper tells me. However, I’d be more than happy to do a full investigation into the matter.” Doctor Livingston produced a gold pen and a clean, white piece of paper from another drawer. He began writing a note. “Aaron Jebson, you said? I’ll get my people right on it.”

  “I’m sure you will.” Sloan words dripped with sarcasm.

  “Sloan,” the doctor said, feigning indignation, “I’ve been nothing but helpful to the crown. If it weren’t for your stubbornness, we could even be more than acquaintances.”

  Jack felt color creep into his face at the revelation. Not only was the doctor being incredibly forward, he also didn’t seem to care Jack was sitting in the room.

  “We’ve been through that.” Sloan rose. “I’ll expect whatever information you have on Aaron Jebson by the end of the day.”

  Jack

  The two parties exchanged notes over lunch. Jack listened, wide-eyed, at Aareth and Abigail as they retold the events of their morning. At times, he forgot to chew the food in his mouth; he paused as if frozen as he caught and clung to every word.

  While the information was being exchanged, Jack noticed Sloan and Aareth acting awkward around each other. Neither one of them made eye contact, their words brief.

  Sloan’s eyes drifted to inspect the ceiling. Aareth concentra
ted on the plate in front of him. Abigail, for her part, sat quietly in her chair, picking at her peas.

  “The Order,” Sloan finally said. “We should dig in there, find whatever is to be found about this mysterious group. Aaron Jebson was a dead end. We can be sure Doctor Livingston’s report on Aaron Jebson will be fruitless.” Aareth finally looked up. “You think he’s lying? All I need is a few undisturbed minutes with the good doctor. I’ll get the truth out of him.”

  “I wish,” Sloan chuckled. “I do think he’s hiding something. It’s hard for me to believe he’s the mastermind behind all of this, but who else is there? All signs point to Livingston and Edison working on the Vampire Project. Where this was sanctioned by the crown, it seems Livingston is taking things a step further on his own.”

  “The ball tonight will be a great opportunity to find out who the city’s elite are.” Abigail poked at the food on her plate. “In Burrow Den, gossip was always a large part of any city event. I imagine it’s going to be the same here.”

  “Good point.” Sloan pushed her chair away from the table. “We should all keep our eyes and ears open.”

  “I’ve never been great at parties.” Aareth stood. “I’m going to hit the streets. If anyone has information about this Order, I’ll find it.”

  Aareth was already heading for the door, when Jack stopped him. “You’ll need someone to go with you. I’ll just grab my stuff and—”

  “No,” Aareth said so loudly, he’d almost shouted the word. “I work better on my own.”

  “Remember who you represent,” Sloan reminded him as he reached the door. “You’re an upstanding inspector in the queen’s city.”

  “I’ve been the upstanding citizen.” Aareth didn’t turn around. “It didn’t work out too well for me the first time.”

  Before anyone could say anything else, Aareth was gone.

  Jack exchanged looks with Sloan and Abigail, the latter avoiding his questioning stare. Just by the way she ducked his gaze, Jack knew there was more to Abigail and Aareth’s day then what had been shared.