Undying Destiny (A Novel of the Enclave) (Entangled Edge)

by Jessica Lee

  She went back to work on her meal. Nevertheless, her expression didn’t give a hint as to what she thought of his agenda.

  “If you are okay with all this, I want to take you downstairs to meet some of the members of the Enclave. I would like you to share with them what you remember about the tests performed on me. With your skill, and their expertise, we should be able to fix this.”

  “The Enclave?” Emily mumbled around her breakfast, one cheek bulging from the forkful of omelet she’d placed in her mouth. Then she swallowed. “What or who are they?”

  Chapter Eight

  On patrol at The Docks, Arran and Markus weaved through the never-ending onslaught of humans after their next score, drink, or fuck.

  Saturday nights usually packed the streets, making Arran jumpy as shit. The rush of a good fight? Hell, yes—he thrived on it. But crowds—shit. He hated them. He rolled his shoulders and glanced at Markus. The grimace on his partner’s face told the same horror story: weekends were hell.

  Especially tonight.

  The warm temperature, unusual for this late in November, had people out in droves. In turn, a multitude of humans brought out the DEADs. Sometimes you had to look for the positive. He would get to kill an addict or two.

  He indicated with a tilt of his head for Markus to turn into the alley on his right. It was only eleven, and experience told him the crowds wouldn’t let up for another hour or two.

  “Damn, I had to get off that street,” Arran said, rounding the corner.

  Markus grunted in agreement.

  The humid air swamped his nostrils with the greasy smell of fried seafood and stale beer. That, he expected for the area, but not the other metallic scent triggering his vampire senses.

  Arran glanced in his partner’s direction.

  Markus gave a slight nod. “Blood.”

  Both knew each other’s next move from years spent together as part of the Enclave. Without a ripple in their wake, they shifted from civilians out for a walk to predators on the hunt.

  Farther into the darkened corridor they moved without a sound, a convenient trick for vampires. That way, the prey never hears the predator until it’s too late.

  A few feet in, both came to a halt.

  Markus lifted his chin and motioned with a subtle nod toward the back. Muffled and wet growling noises emanated from the end of the alley. Arran tilted his head and glanced at the rooftop of the building beside him, then back to Markus with a grin. His partner raised an eyebrow, a slow smile forming. It seemed the idea of going topside for an aerial approach pleased him as well. The roof would provide an excellent vantage point, since it ran parallel to the street perpendicular to the alley.

  A small wrought-iron balcony extended from the second-story window, making the leap effortless. Arran followed Markus’s silent approach to the rooftop. More than likely, they could have made the leap to the third story, but no need to risk a misstep when there were straightforward footholds for each level.

  They made it in mere seconds and then moved quickly across the black-tarred surface. As they neared the edge, the noises grew louder and more vicious, as if a pack of wolves snapped and growled, fighting each other over their latest kill.

  At the edge of the roof, both warriors crouched and peered over the side. The wind rode the wall of the four-story dwelling, driving straight up and into their face and nostrils. The scent alone told the gruesome story of what had already played out beneath them. The air reeked of semen and blood.

  Four DEADs fought over the leftovers of one mangled woman, a macabre scene of clawing and biting. A half-naked, blonde female lay slumped against the building’s brick exterior. She’d been repeatedly raped and bitten. A fucking nightmare of an end for the human female who’d had the misfortune to walk down this alley. Vampires in the violent throes of DE bloodlust had lain in wait for her arrival.

  Arran gave Markus a brief glance and a nod: time to make like a bat and fly. In unison, both stood and took one step, dropping directly behind the creatures. No sweat. No broken bones. He loved the badass superhero part of being a vampire.

  The warriors’ boots struck the pavement. The frenzied vampires jerked their heads from their meal, then hissed and leaped to their feet.

  “Get the fuck out of here, Enclave!” One of the crazed addicts pointed a long and dirty finger toward Arran and Markus. His lips peeled back, exposing his two long fangs in a contorted look of rage.

  “Make me.” Arran emitted a low rumble from his chest for added effect.

  The warriors pulled their daggers in one smooth move.

  The DEADs attacked. But they were unarmed, unless one counted their long-ass fangs and razor-sharp claws.

  Two lunged into the air at him, one from each side. Their wide eyes glowed with the insanity of DE. The others dove in his partner’s direction. Markus cursed before tossing out a sadistic laugh as he fought off the DE duo.

  All at once, Arran’s crazies slammed into him, knocking the air from his lungs. He dropped and rolled, elbowing one bloodsucker in the face. The other took an unlucky swan dive onto his dagger, taking the full measure of the blade into its chest. The DEAD howled as Arran pushed him over and pulled his dagger free. Smoke billowed off the dying carcass.

  The other addict shook off the blow to his face and sailed at him again. Arran raised his arm in time to block the impact. The crazed vampire hit but didn’t deflect. Instead, he bit down and ground his fangs and teeth deep into Arran’s arm. The DEAD writhed and growled, attempting to rip flesh from bone.

  “Son of a bitch! You’re about to piss me off.”

  Reaching down with his free arm, Arran sheathed his dagger. Inside his boot, he had a nice fix for a rabid vampire. The crazed bloodsucker slobbered and growled on his arm while his teeth made mincemeat of Arran’s flesh. Arran wrapped his hand around a custom, nine-inch curved blade.

  One second, a blood-crazed vampire gnawed at his arm—the next, a headless torso dropped to the street.

  Problem solved.

  “Sick bastard,” he mumbled.

  The vampire’s head hung on Arran’s arm as he worked at freeing the embedded teeth. After a few seconds of rocking the jaw, the head finally gave way and dropped with a thud onto the asphalt.

  Arran quickly tore off a piece of his shirt and wrapped it around his bleeding arm. He had a job to finish, and he’d heal soon enough. Blocking the burning pain from his mind, he decomped the remains. The silver, as usual, worked its magic, turning the remains to ash, though the detached head would decompose rather fast even without the silver.

  Arran looked around. Where the hell had Markus gone? The surrounding area had grown quiet, except for the usual sounds of traffic. The last thing he remembered seeing was Markus taking off after one of the filthy bastards.

  After half an hour of going through every nearby side street searching for his partner, he’d come up with a couple of ash piles but no sign of his fellow warrior. Back in the area where their battle had begun, Arran grabbed his cell and punched speed dial two for Markus. After six rings, it flipped to voice mail.

  “Shit!” He snapped his cell shut. What the fuck?

  Kneeling beside the DEADs’ latest victim, Arran did his best to drape her lower body with what was left of her leather miniskirt. Unfortunately, nothing could help the young female. A bloodied cross, attached to a broken gold chain, dropped from her torn sequined shirt as he covered her mangled torso. Pity that the sentimental trinket couldn’t save her. Picking it up, Arran noted an inscription carved into its back. Using his thumb, he wiped enough of the blood away to read the writing. To Heather, I love you. Mom.

  “I’m sorry, Heather,” Arran whispered. “So sorry we didn’t get here sooner.”

  He was going to have to call for cleanup and then continue his search for Markus on two wheels.

  Flipping open his cell, he hit speed dial for Ted at Memorial Gardens Crematorium. After a couple of rings, Ted answered with his typical chipper tone. Strang
e, considering what he did for a living.

  “Good evening, Enclave. What can I do for you this fine night?”

  A sharp pain targeted the crease right between Arran’s eyes at Mr. Sunshine’s cheerful greeting.

  “We have a situation that needs cleanup. Second alleyway off of Seventh Street, in the rear.”

  “Second alley off Seventh Street, in the rear. Got it. The usual?”

  Arran sighed. Such a fucking waste of life. He hated how the families of these victims never received closure. But there was no other way. Evidence like this could not be left behind for the police.

  “The usual. Nothing remains.” Arran closed his phone. Ted was a pro at what he handled for them. As a vampire himself, he had added incentive to be thorough.

  Arran made his way back to where they’d parked their motorcycles. Markus’s red ride hadn’t moved.

  He swung a leather-clad leg up and over and straddled his black Ducati. Slipping on his matching helmet, he cranked the machine. He gave the engine a couple of hard revs before burning out. The crowd had thinned, allowing him to cover more ground with greater speed on his bike.

  …

  Emily waited behind Kenric as he punched a code into a digital keypad before placing his hand on a blue screen. A high-pitched beep sounded before a massive steel door, like something from the next century, opened and slid into the wall on a whisper of air.

  Enclave central command.

  Seemed very high tech and James Bond. He even had the accent and looks to complete the picture.

  Her head swam not just from their three-story elevator ride down, but also with all the information she’d learned upstairs. Kenric had filled her in on things she thought could only exist on the big screen: vampires, Death Euphoria, DEADs—oh my. Like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, she definitely felt like she “wasn’t in Kansas anymore.”

  He’d brought her downstairs, intending for her to meet some of his Enclave—a volunteer group of vampires that had slowly grown over the last century to a team of six, he’d informed her, after he and his second-in-command had first partnered to control the DEADs that had been preying on the human population in the city.

  Kenric called his team Warriors. The term conjured up images in her head of giant men with armor and swords. One gorgeous six and a half foot vampire pushing her buttons was enough, though. If they were all like him, she didn’t know if her nervous system could withstand it.

  She followed Kenric into an enormous underground complex. No interior walls blocked the view from one end to the other. It appeared to run the entire length of the house. Emily soaked up the view and tried to keep up with Kenric at the same time. An entertainment section with a big flat-screen TV, a stereo, and a couple of pinball machines filled one end. A glass conference table took up the center—six black leather executive chairs surrounded it.

  Seated together at the end, opposite all the fun and games, were two men and one woman. The men flanked the brown-haired woman, who was busy tapping away at a keyboard on a multilevel desk. The brunette’s gaze tracked her work on two wall-mounted computer monitors. All eyes turned their way as they approached.

  The female of the group must have sensed her unease right away and gave Emily a warm, encouraging smile.

  “Guerin, Logan, Gabrielle, I would like you to meet Emily Ross,” Kenric said, pointing out each member of the team with one hand as he placed his other palm at her lower back.

  “Hi, Emily. Nice to meet you,” Gabrielle said, the first to break the ice as she held out her hand for a polite shake. “You can call me Elle,” she added with another warm smile.

  Logan, standing maybe an inch taller than Kenric, moved forward next. His deep brown hair shone with natural gold highlights. He’d gathered it at his nape into a ponytail, which hung to his waist. Even with his hair bound, she couldn’t miss the sprinkles of gold.

  “Very nice to meet you,” he said with a slight brogue. His rough hand, almost double the size of hers, swallowed her palm as he shook her hand.

  “Scottish, I take it?” Emily’s gaze met his emerald green irises.

  “Guilty as charged, lass,” he answered with a smile that would have singed the hairs right off a girl’s arm. Man, he was impressive.

  Well, almost as impressive as the man who stood beside her. She dropped Logan’s hand and gave Kenric a sideways glance.

  The man Kenric introduced as Guerin stepped up next, looking very Mediterranean with his dark olive complexion and wavy mahogany hair. He nudged Logan out of his way.

  “Ciao, bella,” he breathed with a seductive smile on his lips. What a charmer. Too bad he didn’t do a thing for her.

  He gently took her hand, all the while holding her gaze with his deep brown bedroom eyes. He lowered his head and placed a kiss to the back of her hand.

  As Guerin’s lips touched her hand, she felt, more than heard, a vibrating growl come from behind her. Guerin’s head popped back up at that exact moment, his gaze darting to Kenric. Emily glanced over her shoulder. Kenric was sneering, his glare aimed straight for Guerin’s throat.

  Guerin’s hand released hers. The vibrations ceased as quickly as they’d started. “Nice to meet you, Emily,” he added with a slight smile.

  How bizarre was that? She slipped her hands into the pockets of her borrowed sweats. Kenric’s palm pressed a little more firmly into the small of her back, making small circles against her skin through the fabric. She smiled, enjoying the comforting warm presence as she met the room of vampire warriors. Instinctively, Emily leaned into the protective weight of his hand.

  “Let’s get down to why we’re here, shall we?” Kenric broke the tension hanging in the air. Pulling up an extra chair, he placed it beside Elle and motioned for Emily to take a seat.

  “Emily,” he said, then dropped a hand onto Gabrielle’s shoulder. “Elle is our resident computer guru.” Emily’s gaze fixated at the point where Kenric’s hand rested. The deep sound of his voice continued to fill the room, but she didn’t have the power to pry her gaze away from where his hand touched the other woman’s body.

  Why is it necessary for him to touch her the whole time he’s standing there? Maybe she’s his lover? Emily’s stomach churned at the thought of Kenric naked and lying next to Elle. She clenched her teeth and gripped the arms of her chair. It took everything she had not to jump up and snatch his hand off her.

  I’ve lost my mind. That has to be it. Emily shook her head. Where were these lunatic thoughts coming from? Besides, he was way too overbearing for her taste. The last thing she needed, or wanted, was to fight her way out of another possessive, dominating relationship.

  “Emily… Emily? Did you hear anything I said?” Kenric’s voice rang through, shaking her out of her daydream.

  “Yes, I’m hearing you.” She nodded her head. “You were saying something about me talking to Elle about the hospital computers.”

  His eyes narrowed into a pay-attention glare. She must have lost a part of the conversation. Emily brushed her hair back and lifted her chin. She stared back at him with a silent, I’m listening—see?

  He cocked a brow, and a corner of his lips curled into a smile. With a shake of his head, he went back to work.

  “Elle, this is what I need done,” he said. “Use whatever information Emily can provide about Memorial to help you get into that system. I need you to do whatever it takes to scrub those records on John Doe. Discreetly, of course. We don’t need any more attention brought to us than my visit has already generated.”

  “Consider it done,” Gabrielle said with a nod.

  “Emily, see if you can recall the name of the doctor who was consulted on my case. We’ll need to pay him a visit.”

  “Okay, but if I can’t remember, once Elle cracks into the system, I can pull your records and get his name for you. If you don’t mind my asking, though, what will you do once you find him? You said the Enclave doesn’t kill humans. They already know about your blood. It’s not only in their file
s. So, how do you plan to handle this?” She shrugged her shoulders and laughed. “Give them amnesia or something?”

  “That’s exactly what I plan to do.”

  “You can do that? Really? Actually tap into someone’s mind and take their memories? Oh my God… No wonder you’ve been able to stay undetected for so long. If you’re exposed, you simply make us forget we ever knew you. How…very convenient for you,” she added with a pissed-off glare at Kenric.

  The idea that he could do that to her, and probably would, made her madder than hell. What had she done? She had been minding her own business, doing her job, and yet somehow, she’d managed to get involved with a man who had the ability to control her life on a level she couldn’t even imagine.

  “You must understand… I don’t take pleasure in manipulating another person’s mind. It’s what I have to do, if we’re to survive.” Kenric paused, as if searching for the right words, then glanced over to Guerin and Logan and back to her. Both warriors had grown tense, but they remained silent while keeping their eyes on her and her reaction to Kenric.

  “I explained before we came downstairs that every one of us here has taken an oath to give our lives, if necessary, to protect humanity from those of our kind who’ve succumbed to Death Euphoria. However, we do have to feed. As you have experienced.” Kenric’s voice lowered, and his eyes darted from hers for a split second, as if uncomfortable discussing their encounter in front of the others.

  “And when we do,” he continued, “we use what powers we have to erase the memory of our presence. If we didn’t, with the frequency that we need to feed, we would be discovered and exterminated.”

  Nausea bloomed in her stomach at the word exterminated. It sounded so horrific, but history clearly demonstrated the expected human reaction would be fear, followed by a cry for genocide. Hadn’t fear and ignorance always driven humans to perform horrendous acts of cruelty? What little remained of the Native American population was a prime example of a civilized nation’s response to something they didn’t completely understand.