by J. J. Bonds
**********
I stand at the office window, inhaling the scent of the Dog Rose that climbs the side of the house. The pink and white blooms are just starting to open, reminding me that summer will soon be here. The forests surrounding the manor are buzzing with wildlife. What I wouldn’t give for a quick hunt. I need to feed, and the prospect of feeling the cool night air whip across my face as I stalk my prey is beyond tempting. My body craves the thrill of the hunt with every fiber of my being. My tense muscles beg to be unleashed in the wild, to crash through the forest and prove their dominance to the unsuspecting woodland creatures. Nik’s just outside the door standing guard in the hall. We could go together, just the two of us.
I sigh, giving myself a much-needed reality check.
Alex will never allow it. Not after this morning’s little delivery. Even if she let me go out to hunt, she’d insist the whole team of guards tag along, which would completely defeat the purpose. Oh, well. It was a fun idea while it lasted.
My phone vibrates on the desk. I pick it up and check the display. It’s an unknown number, the same as before. Shaye. Heart racing, I accept the call and bring the phone to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” she says, and I can easily picture her bright smile on the other end of the line. “Long time no chat!”
“Tell me about it.” Might as well lay the guilt on thick. Maybe she’ll tell me where she’s holed up and save Blaine the effort. “What happened to keeping in touch?”
“I’m sorry. We haven’t really stayed in one place too long.” She giggles, completely lighthearted and without a care in the world. Must be nice. “It’s kind of fun though. Being on the road, I mean. Sort of an adventure, you know?”
I snort. I can’t be hearing this right. I’m going through hell, and she’s having an adventure?
“I’m sorry,” she says, catching herself. “That was stupid of me to say with everything you’re going through. I wasn’t thinking. I… I heard about Aldo.”
“Yeah, things here have been pretty sucktastic.”
I don’t elaborate. As much as I want to tell Shaye everything that’s going on, I can’t risk it. If there’s any chance Keegan is involved with the Order, the less I tell her the better.
“How are you holding up?” she asks as the conversation takes a turn for the awkward.
“About as well as can be expected, I guess.”
“I really am sorry,” she tells me, the pleading in her voice reinforcing her words. “I didn’t mean to be a jerk. I know a lot of bad things are happening, and I’m scared just like anyone else. It’s just that Keegan and I get to be together now. And that makes me feel a little better.”
“About that.” I take a deep breath and remind myself that I can’t possibly expect to be a leader if I can’t even confront my own best friend. Then again, in this case it would probably be easier to confront total strangers. “Where exactly are you?”
She doesn’t answer immediately, and the line goes quiet. So quiet I have to check and make sure I didn’t drop the call. Nope. She’s still there. Stalling.
Finally she replies, sounding dejected. She knew this question was coming. It’s why she’s been putting off the call. “I thought we agreed it was better if I didn’t say.”
“We did. But that was before.”
Her usually sweet disposition dissipates when she asks, “Before what?”
Now it’s my turn to stall. How do I say this exactly? Before I thought your boyfriend was a lying, traitorous piece of crap? Yeah, probably not the best approach.
“I don’t know how else to say this, so I’m just going to lay it out there. I think Keegan is involved in something dangerous, and I really don’t want to see you get hurt. I’m worried about you.”
“What are you talking about?” She’s angry now, offended at the suggestion. I don’t blame her. In her shoes, I’d be twice as pissed. “Keegan would never do anything to hurt me.”
“Shaye, I think he was involved in the attack at Crossroads. Don’t you think it’s a little strange that he knew to sneak you out before the attack?”
“I cannot believe what I’m hearing,” she sputters. “You can’t really believe that. You know Keegan! He would never hurt anyone.”
“Wouldn’t he?” I ask quietly, lowering my voice in an attempt to calm her down. “After everything that’s been done to him, you don’t think he might want revenge?
“No. Never.”
She’s got a serious case of denial, but she may be right about that. Keegan’s not the vengeful type. He’s got a gentle nature. I recall how Jacobs became indebted to the Order, and that theory seems much more fitting.
“Maybe his freedom had a price,” I suggest, planting a seed I hope will grow until she can see the truth about the man she loves. “A debt that had to be paid to avoid losing it all. What wouldn’t he do to stay by your side?”
“You’re wrong.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Good-bye, Katia.”
She ends the call, too polite to just hang up on me. I toss my phone on the desk. I’d rather throw it out the window, but I’m trying not to let my frustration get the best of me. Instead, I holler for Nik and ask him to get Blaine on the phone with an update.
“Keegan’s smarter than he looks. Or he had help.”
Blaine is on speakerphone, and I force myself not to respond to his smart-ass comment. He’s the sort of pureblood who thrives on the caste system, so really I should’ve expected as much from him.
“They’ve been totally off the grid since leaving Crossroads. No activity on credit cards, cell phones, no property in his name, and no major purchases requiring registration,” he explains. “I’m guessing he’s got another identity or he’s paying cash. Probably both. It’s what I’d do if I didn’t want to be found.”
“What about previously?” I interject, although I have to admit that, for once, Blaine’s commentary is actually useful. “Were you able to track his movements in the weeks leading up to the attack at Crossroads?”
“Yeah. I’m sending everything your way now. It’s not much.”
“Whatever you found is more than we’ve got right now,” Nik says, encouraging him to keep talking.
“I can tell you where he went based on credit card activity and cell phone pings, but I can’t tell you who he met with or what he did when he got there. Maybe something will pop for you, but since I wasn’t entirely sure what you were looking for, all I’ve got for you is raw data.”
I quickly download the file that Blaine’s transferred. It’s a complete paper trail on Keegan’s activity for the past two months. Nik leans over my shoulder, and we scan the recap Blaine’s sent us. He’s right. Nothing really jumps out at me on the first pass. Not like he’s got charges on his credit card labeled ‘Membership fees for the Order of the Red Dawn.’ That would just be too easy.
“I also checked his phone records,” Blaine continues. “Most of the calls outside of his regular personal contacts, which are pretty limited, were to prepaid phones, so there’s not much to go on there either.”
Taking a second pass at the list of places Keegan’s been recently, I get a niggling feeling in my gut. They’re large cities, but not exactly vacation destinations. Buffalo, New Haven, Springfield, Stamford. What could he have been doing in all these cities? Blaine’s right. Hotel charges don’t tell us much other than how long he stayed. I don’t know what I expected Blaine to find, but I’d hoped for more.
I reread the credit card statements, looking for anything that seems like a red flag. Still, nothing stands out to me… except, wait. New Haven. I’ve seen the name on another document recently. I scramble for the Linkuri reports, the ones with details on the attacks claimed by the Order. I find one match. A pureblood family with strong ties to the Northeast Blood Exchange was murdered. In New Haven.
“I think I’ve got something.” I show Nik the report. The details of the attack are sickening. The enti
re family was wiped out. They went down fighting, but they went down just the same, with all of their heads being removed. “I don’t believe in coincidence.”
I crosscheck the dates. They’re a match. Keegan was in New Haven at the time of the attack. It’s strange. Part of me is grief stricken at this new information, but another part of me, the part that enjoys the hunt, is invigorated. For the first time, we have a solid lead on the Order. I just wish it didn’t hit so close to home.
“Do me another favor, Blaine?” Nik doesn’t wait for a reply. “Keep an eye on their phones and cards. Just in case. If they go back onto the grid, we need to know about it immediately.”
“Look man, I seriously doubt you’ll get that lucky,” Blaine says, voicing my thoughts, “but if anything pops, you’ll be the first to know.”
Chapter Fifteen
“There’s been another attack.” Viktor’s eyes churn with barely controlled anger as he fights for composure. His fingers grip the back of the leather chair he would normally occupy, digging into the thick fabric without mercy. The wooden frame splinters from the pressure, the loud crack shattering the silence of the office. “It’s bad.”
“Where?”
“A club called Divinity. In Cluj-Napoca.”
My jaw hardens. Not only was the attack in my territory, it’s close. A little too close for comfort. But why a club? Until now most of the attacks have been against families of power. Families whose deaths have resulted in the disruption of trade, blood supply, or finances for their covens. Small, isolated, easy to cover up.
Attacking a nightclub is far riskier. No quick in and out. More vamps to control. More risk of exposure. And quite possibly more human intervention.
“Has it been contained?” The last thing we need is a bunch of humans getting caught up in our war. That is something the Order should fear as well. Mixed-blood vamps living among humans generally have less wealth, less influence, and fewer resources. They’d be the first to fall if vampire hunters descend on Cluj-Napoca. I’m told there aren’t many left in the world, but they do exist.
“Fully contained,” Viktor confirms with a curt nod. “We have friends on the police force. Fortunately, it was also an exclusive club. Primarily vamps only. Very few humans.”
His fingers idly caress the blade strapped to his belt. He’s anxious to get into the fight. Tired of waiting. He’s not alone.
“Survivors?”
“A few. We have Linkuri on the scene to interview them and clean up the mess. With any luck, we’ll get a lead.”
“I wouldn’t hold your breath.” I consider my options. Sitting around the manor reading reports hasn’t gotten us anywhere. Listening to the other Council members squabble has also been unproductive. I need to do something. “Pull the car around. We’re going to Cluj-Napoca.”
“Have you lost your mind?” Viktor looks at me incredulously, advancing across the room and slamming his oversized palms down on the desk quick as lightening. “We have no idea how many men the Order has in the city, no idea where they are or who they are. We are not going.”
I stand and place my own palms on the desk, bringing my face within inches of Viktor’s. So close I can smell the blood on his breath.
“Yes. We. Are.”
He throws his hands up in the air. “This is madness. We cannot protect you if you insist on putting yourself in dangerous situations.”
“This is not up for discussion, Viktor. Please notify Alex and get the other guards.”
“You need to stay here and prepare for the ball. Half the coven will be here tomorrow night.”
I roll my eyes. Worst argument ever. Viktor knows I hate that stuff. “We have people who can make the preparations. They hardly need me to choose the flower arrangements.”
“There’s more to this ball than just pretty lights and stemware. You have to be mentally prepared.”
“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. I know the ball is important, but the best thing I can do right now is be seen at that club. My people need to see me active, to know that I care, and that I’m not some self-important asshat hiding behind the walls of the manor while they fall like lambs to the slaughter.”
Thirty minutes later we are on our way to the airport with half the contents of the armory in the trunk. Five Linkuri to protect little old me? At one time I’d have called it overkill. Now I call it practical. In addition to Nik, Viktor and Alex have selected two other Linkuri, Moldoveanu and Ursu, to escort us. I’ve seen them around the manor, but this is the first time they’ve been assigned to me personally. Then again, it’s also the first time I’ve left the manor as an Elder.
The club is locked down when we arrive. The late afternoon sun slants across the darkened façade. From the outside, it looks like any other club in the city. Its stone face is devoid of windows, the heavy iron door is locked tight, and the neon Divinity sign is dormant. There is no sign of the horror that took place last night. No sign of the horror that awaits us inside. Here on the street, the only sign of life is the burly Mr. Clean wannabe who stands guard in the shadows at the main entrance.
Our vehicle rolls to a stop at the curb, and Alex jumps down from the passenger seat. After exchanging a few brief words with the doorman, she waves for us to follow her lead. Her other hand remains fixed firmly on her holstered weapon. I notice the others do the same as they sweep the street with precision, ensuring no threat remains.
I’m the first through the door thanks to Viktor’s ushering hands. The interior of the club is dark, but my eyes adjust quickly, taking in the narrow corridor that stretches into the belly of the club and the stairs to my right.
The entry has gotten real crowded real fast with all of us packed in like sardines. The door falls shut behind us with a deafening bang, and the lock slams into place. The finality of the sound sends a shiver down my spine. Or maybe it’s the stench of death that hangs in the air.
“Which way?” I call out.
“Straight ahead,” Mr. Clean advises from the rear of our little entourage. “We were told not to disturb anything until you arrived. We’ll burn the bodies when you’re through here.”
We move down the hall quickly, anxious to escape the walls of the narrow corridor that press in on us. We emerge on a massive concrete dance floor that is littered with bodies. The harsh glare of fluorescent lighting illuminates every corner of the club, showcasing the destruction. My stomach leaps into my throat at the sight of so much pointless death. How many lives were snuffed out last night?
“Who’s in charge here?” I demand, surveying the damage. There are bodies everywhere. Most with their heads removed, although several have stakes protruding from their hearts. Blood covers the floor, leaving few unmarred pockets of cement. There are two bars, one on each side of the dance floor. One with a very dead bartender draped over it. The other with the Order’s logo painted in blood on the mirror behind it.
“That would be me, Elder Lescinka.” One of the Linkuri separates himself from the others and joins our group. He’s short but powerfully built, with a pair of hook swords strapped to his back. I get the sense his beady black eyes don’t miss much as he continually scans the room. He offers me his hand. “Serghei Iliescu. It’s an honor to meet you.”
“Tell us everything you know.”
“My team was first on the scene, but by the time we arrived, the perpetrators were gone. All we found were the bodies. The attack was swift, but frankly, most of these vampires were young and not well trained in self-defense.”
Not surprising. I sneak a glance at Nik, recalling that few at Crossroads took their martial arts and self-defense training as seriously as we did. Most labored under the delusion that Linkuri like Iliescu would always be there to protect them.
“We believe the attack initiated from above,” he says, pointing to the balcony that wraps around the entire club. The vamps on the dance floor would have been fish in a barrel. Totally blood drunk, totally oblivious. Iliescu kicks an empty shell casing with the
steel toe of his boot. “The vamps on the balcony laid down the initial suppressing fire. Caused a lot of damage too.”
“And then a second team came down the hall and finished the job,” Alex says matter-of-factly, as if she can see the whole thing play out in her mind’s eye. “It’s what I would have done.”
“Exactly,” Iliescu agrees, hooking a thumb over his shoulder. “These kids were badly wounded and unable to fight back effectively.”
“These men were very organized,” Viktor observes. “Well trained and disciplined.”
“How many?” I don’t want to know the answer, but I have to ask. These people were my responsibility.
“One hundred and twelve by my count. Be glad it was a weeknight. Could’ve been a lot worse.”
“They killed the mixed-bloods?” I ask, pointing at the dead bartender.
“I wondered about that too.” Iliescu carefully navigates his way across the blood-soaked floor. I follow, doing my best not to look into the eyes of the dead vamps that lie at our feet. I can’t bear to see their tortured faces staring back at me.
When we reach the bar, Iliescu leans across it and points. The bartender’s discarded weapons lie in a puddle of blood. “They fought back.”
“Fat lot of good it did them.” I turn to Viktor and Alex. “I think it’s safe to assume that not everyone is on board with this little revolution. Or at least not with the means.”
“That doesn’t make them allies,” Nik cautions, stuffing his balled fists in the pockets of his cargos. I see the same internal struggle within him that Viktor experienced this morning. It’s difficult for them to accept that the Linkuri have been ineffective at combating the Order. Difficult to accept that they cannot keep those they are sworn to protect safe.
We spend another hour at the club, walking the scene, talking to the Linkuri, and reviewing the security footage. There wasn’t much of value. The attackers were dressed in black and wore masks over their faces. The exterior cameras also proved useless as the plates were removed from the vehicles. For our trouble all we got was a private showing of the massacre, something I could have lived my entire life without seeing.
