Angeles Covenant

by Michael Pierce

  He stared me directly in the eyes, urging me to reconsider, but when he found me unrelenting, he finally gave in with a deflating sigh.

  “I don’t want you to think I’m not appreciative of what you’re doing, I just feel terrible about leaving everyone else behind—like I’m abandoning them. But I can’t do it alone, so if you won’t help, then there’s nothing else I can do.”

  “You can take the opportunity given to you and make the most of it—with me.”

  “You’re right,” Nathan said, offering a pained smile and squeezing my hand.

  This time, when I pulled him toward the door, he came with me. We emerged into the bright sunlight, in the nearly empty parking lot of Sisters of Mercy, with my lonely sedan only a few spaces away.

  As I pressed the ignition and shifted into reverse, I glanced back at the entrance doors and saw Jack standing on the opposite side of the glass. He didn’t come after us. He didn’t even move—but simply stood with a blank expression and watched us drive away.

  36

  Fiona

  It was hard to watch Matthew leave with those two scary-looking men. I almost wanted to cancel the whole trip right then and there, but Abigail was so excited and I didn’t want to disappoint her.

  “Who were those men?” Gillian asked. “They kind of looked like Secret Service or something.”

  I didn’t want to get into the whole Vampire Order thing with her, so I didn’t and simply played dumb. “I don’t know. But Matthew said he’d be fine.”

  “And you believe him?”

  “Absolutely,” I said, though I didn’t feel as confident as I tried to sound. “I guess I’m driving now.”

  The three of us piled into the Land Rover. Luckily, Matthew already had the coordinates programed into the navigation because a top-secret base wasn’t just going to show up on Google Maps. Not to mention, the only times I’d been there had been by way of the portal in the North Building, not by road.

  “So where are we going?” Abigail asked once we reached the freeway.

  I glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “A special government facility,” I said. “Matthew was able to get you both clearance to be onsite. Our father lives there fulltime now. He requires constant assistance, because like I said yesterday, he isn’t well.”

  “What’s wrong with him?” Gillian asked.

  “Some type of dementia,” I said. “He gets confused. He remembers things that didn’t happen. And he has huge gaps in his memory. For instance, he doesn’t know I’m his daughter too. He knows me as a member of the group Matthew and I belong to, but that’s it.”

  “So, he’s not gonna remember me either?” Abigail asked.

  “He talks about you all the time,” I said, remembering how much he had mistaken me for Abigail. “I’m sure he’ll remember you.”

  “I remember him being forgetful, but I just thought he had a lot on his mind—that his work consumed him.” Gillian sounded sad as she mentally replayed moments of her relationship with my father that now held new meaning. “I reported his disappearance to the local authorities. How was this allowed to happen?”

  “I want to help manage your expectations,” I said, hearing Matthew in my voice. “You’re not going to get a bunch of answers when we get there. Many are classified. The main purpose of today’s visit is to give you both some closure. Nothing more.”

  “We’re only gonna be able to see him the one time?” Abigail asked.

  “Probably,” I said. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to get your hopes up too much.”

  “This sucks,” Abigail whined, turning her attention to the side window. She clutched the compass in both hands like it was some talisman that could grant her a wish.

  “We don’t have to go if this is will be too much,” I offered to both Gillian and Abigail. “I know it will be difficult to see him, especially in the mental state he’s in.”

  “I need to see him for myself to put all the years of wondering to rest,” Gillian said, giving me a sidelong glance. “Not knowing is the worst feeling.”

  I gave her an empathetic smile. Didn’t I know it.

  It was dark by the time we reached the Nevada desert, and another hour after that to come close to the specific coordinates programmed into the navigation system. We were miles off the highway by this time, and I hadn’t seen another pair of headlights in fifteen minutes. The dirt roads I drove on through the desert had no names. We were far away from any civilization, which made it difficult for normal people to randomly stumble across the facility we were headed to.

  If Abigail hadn’t been asleep in the backseat, I would have expected the repeated question of are we there yet? But with her asleep and the inability to get any static-free radio stations out here, the car was relatively quiet.

  Gillian wasn’t much for conversation, though maybe that was just with me.

  There was absolutely nothing out here. I had never been to a place so remote that there were no visible lights in any direction, only blackness. I wouldn’t want to get stuck in this place, that was for damn sure. I was also beginning to wish I’d filled up the tank before exiting the freeway.

  “Are we there yet?” a sleepy Abigail muttered.

  “There she is,” I said with a laugh. “According to our omniscient navigator, probably about ten miles out.” However, I was starting to get worried since I was still unable to see anything in the great expanse of nothing.

  Then, before I could lose too much hope, I noticed a small beacon of light in the distance. The yellowish glow was emanating from behind a rocky plateau ahead. I could only assume that was our destination. As we drew closer on the map and the glow grew brighter outside, I felt more confident I’d led us to the right place.

  Once we rounded the rocky plateau, I could finally see the familiar buildings. An electrified fence protected the compound, with the manned gate straight ahead.

  “Abigail, cover yourself with the black blanket that’s back there and don’t make a sound,” I instructed.

  “Why?” Abigail asked.

  “I thought your boyfriend got us approved for this visit,” Gillian said, eyeing me suspiciously.

  “Sort of,” I said. “You shouldn’t have a problem getting in, but a kid her age will raise questions. It’s best just to keep quiet.”

  Gillian glanced back at Abigail and nodded. From the rearview mirror, I watched Abigail cover herself completely with the black blanket, now lying across the bench seat.

  As I inched up to the gate, I rolled down the window and pushed up my left shirt sleeve.

  “I don’t remember seeing that before,” Gillian said, gesturing to my compass tattoo.

  “I guess you weren’t paying close attention,” I quipped, though in reality, she wouldn’t have seen it before, since I typically kept it hidden beneath my skin.

  There was only one soldier stationed at the gate, and he walked up to my open window with a machine gun slung across his midsection. He looked young—maybe mid-twenties—and had rugged good looks even with a nose that had been obviously broken at some point. His chin was asymmetrical too.

  I let the strands of hair that had been tucked behind my ear fall over my cheek. Then I extended my arm through the open window to present my tattoo. “Good evening,” I said. “I’m Fiona Winter, here to see my father, former Assemblyman Roland Damascus.”

  “And who’s your friend?”

  “Friend?” I scoffed. “How about a little more respect. This is Dr. Gillian Edwards, an accomplished neurosurgeon from Cedars Sinai. Her visit with the assemblyman to discuss further treatment options has been approved by President Bolt. We should be on the list.”

  “Wait right here. I’ll check,” the soldier said and returned to his workstation.

  “Neurosurgeon?” Gillian asked.

  “It was Matthew’s idea,” I said. “Now we’ll see if he got our names on the list like he was supposed to.”

  “Otherwise, it was a long drive for—” But she stoppe
d when the soldier poked his head out of the vestibule and waved us through.

  “See? Matthew wouldn’t let us down,” I said and pulled forward, easing over the traffic spikes. I waved to the soldier, who gave me a warm smile as we passed.

  Once we parked, I told Abigail it was okay to come out from under the blanket. Then we hurried to the building that housed my father, careful not to let anyone get a good look at Abigail. We didn’t want anyone stopping us to ask more questions.

  I’d visited my father quite a few times over the months, but this time was different—reminding me of the first time Matthew took me here, when I was still a candidate. At that time, I’d had no idea what to expect or if he’d recognize me and accept me. Now I knew him better, along with the mental ailments he suffered from, I knew how much he valued and needed routine. Bringing his family back to him would throw a huge wrench into that—and I had no idea how he’d react.

  Abigail was quiet now as well, as we all stood in the elevator. It was late, so we’d probably be waking him like I’d done the first night. I now understood why Matthew had taken me there so late the first time—the same reason he’d wanted to do it again this time. The strategy was to make the encounter as dreamlike as possible, hopefully lessening the disruption and helping gauge how he was processing the new information.

  Overall, my initial encounters with him were successful. Here’s hoping this one would follow that trend. As we reached my father’s floor, I felt my left arm start to tingle. My tattoo was still visible, so I pulled up my sleeve and held my arm out. The arrow on the compass pointed straight ahead as the doors slid open. The tingling worked its way into my stomach as I led the three of us down the hallway.

  Stopping before my father’s door, I glanced down at my tattoo again. As I’d feared, the arrow was pointing directly at the door.

  “I hear voices in there,” Gillian said, standing a few steps behind me.

  I stopped to listen and realized she was right. My tattoo seemed to confirm the same thing. There indeed was someone in the room with him—and it seemed to be a vampire! The tingling in my stomach quickly turned into one of dread and nausea.

  I removed the keycard from my pocket, the card I’d earned from our transcription sessions over the months. Then, I removed my gun from the shoulder holster.

  “What’s happening?” Gillian whispered as she wrapped a protective arm around her daughter.

  “Back up,” I instructed before swiping the keycard and throwing open the door, holding my gun out with both hands as I’d been trained.

  However, nothing could have prepared me for the horrifying sight inside the room, causing me to freeze and my blood to run cold. My mother was in the room with wild eyes, a look I’d never seen from her before. Then there was my father, lying lifelessly by her feet, a pool of expanding blood beneath his head.

  37

  Susan

  2006

  “Come, my dear. I have something to show you,” Frederick said after meeting me at the entrance of Fangloria. The sun was going down, but the club was still several hours away from officially opening.

  Frederick had called me earlier in the day and asked me to meet him here before sundown. Luckily, Mom was available to babysit Fiona on short notice, though it took a little convincing.

  “What is it?” I asked as we walked through the relatively well-lit rooms. “You know I don’t like surprises.”

  “In general, I understand that… but this one—this one, I think you’ll really appreciate,” Frederick said with a devious smile.

  “You’re impossible,” I laughed.

  Since my first time at the club—when he’d had me dig out the wooden bullets from his chest, the same ones I’d shot him with—I’d been down to his executive suite multiple times.

  I’d been on my way to getting my very own Vampire Nation tattoo. Then I’d really know I was in, and Fiona would be safe.

  However, Frederick didn’t now lead me into the employee basement where his suite was located. This time, we took the stairs with the sign overhead that read, The Cellar. Frederick had taken me to the infamous vampire playroom once before, and that one time was enough for me.

  Since the club wasn’t yet open for business, I didn’t anticipate the hedonistic, horrendous scene from before. I had no idea what to expect.

  As we emerged at the bottom of the dark staircase, I heard muffled cries from across the vast room. I remembered the rows of semi-circular couches around back-lit circular platforms. Each platform had a wooden X to secure each group’s entertainment—typically a beautiful human girl, though I’d also remembered a few guys in the mix. Leather shackles were connected to each of the four corners of the Xs, keeping the humans from being able to fight back.

  Most of them didn’t want to fight; they were willing participants in the vampires’ games. Frederick had not asked me to take part, for which I was grateful.

  The room was dimly lit like it had been when the club was thriving, but I could clearly see one person occupying a platform on the far side. The white light pouring from the floor of the platform illuminated his bottom half but left most of his face in shadows. All I could tell from this distance was that it was clearly a man, despite his long hair.

  It wasn’t until we drew nearer that his face came into view—a terrible, haunting face.

  “What is this?” I asked, feeling the blood drain from my face.

  “My gift to you,” Frederick said confidently. He hopped onto the platform and removed a ball gag from the man’s mouth. “I scoured the countryside looking for him. And I found him.”

  The man on the wooden X was bound with the restraints, but that wasn’t all. He also had wooden stakes protruding from each limb, further securing him to the X like he’d been crucified. The stakes were keeping him weak and in pain, preventing him from healing.

  Once our eyes met, horror filled the man’s face to a degree that probably matched mine. He remembered me too. We’d faced off months before—in my apartment when he killed Becca and I slashed his throat with a butcher’s knife—but I remembered it like it was yesterday. I was face to face with the monster who’d taken my daughter and my sense of safety and left me with a growing hole in my heart. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, a part of me had died that day too.

  “I’m sorry… I couldn’t control myself… you don’t understand what it’s like…” the man cried.

  “Weak excuses from a weak man,” Frederick said, giving the man a patronizing pat on the cheek. “Own up to what you did and accept the consequences like a man.”

  “Please don’t do this…”

  “You’re pathetic! A disgrace to our kind! And now it’s time to answer for your sins.”

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Giving you what you want—what you need,” Frederick said, stepping down from the platform to stand beside me. “This is your chance to get closure and move on. My gift to you, so we can move forward with our plans unencumbered.”

  “This won’t bring my daughter back,” I said, my eyes already prickling with the threat of tears.

  “That is beyond anyone’s power—even mine. This is simply the next best thing.”

  “I’m sorry…” the man on the platform whimpered.

  “Apologies won’t bring her back either,” I snapped.

  “Did you bring your gun?” Frederick asked.

  I shook my head. “It’s in the car. I didn’t think I’d be allowed in with it.”

  “Not to worry,” Frederick said and pulled out a pistol from the back waistband of his black slacks. “You can use this one. Don’t think you’re the only one with the technology to injure vampires.”

  “You have the same kind of wooden bullets?”

  Frederick beamed with delight. “I know people too,” he said, handing me the gun. “As you know, this won’t kill him, but it will be therapeutic. When you’ve had enough… well, there are other means to end him.”

  I felt the w
eight of the gun in my hands. It was heavier than the one Roland had given me. I pulled back the slide to cock it.

  “His name is—” Frederick began, but I cut him off.

  “I don’t want to know his name,” I said. “I want to remember him as a nameless, soulless demon.”

  “Eddie,” the man on the platform said. “Eddie—”

  He was about to spill his last name when I fired the first shot. Since I wasn’t yet standing on the platform and I fired straight ahead, the bullet burrowed deep into his thigh. My daughter’s murderer howled in pain.

  “No! You will not take this away for me,” I demanded and hopped up onto the platform, so I could stare directly into his black, hollow eyes. He was less gaunt than I remembered, but his long hair still had an oily sheen. “I will remember you as the nameless, soulless demon that murdered my daughter, Rebecca, and nearly killed her twin, Fiona. I will not let you convince me that you are anything more.” I squeezed the trigger and put a bullet in his other thigh.

  I waited a moment to make sure he wouldn’t heal, which he didn’t, his blood continuing to drip from the fresh wounds. I suddenly became so consumed by rage and sorrow that I pulled the trigger over and over and over again—until every last bullet had been expelled from the clip. And by that time, I could barely see through the tears. My whole body was wracked with powerful sobs. My hands shook until I could no longer hold the pistol, and it dropped onto the fiberglass platform.

  The man’s body was now hanging as loose as his constraints would allow, his head slumped forward. I knew he was still alive, but as close to death as wood would allow.

  Frederick stepped to the platform and reached for the empty handgun, then placed it back in the waistband of his slacks. “How do you feel?” he asked.

  “Empty,” I said, gazing upon the bloodied man a moment longer before stepping down from the platform. “How do we kill him?” I asked, hoping it would be quick so I could get out of here.