In Black We Trust

by J. C. Andrijeski

  According to Black, once they had Charles more or less triangulated, they would lock down the Barrier space around him.

  Then things would happen fast.

  Kiko or Javier would try to knock him out with the tranquilizer guns. If they couldn’t do that for some reason––or even if they did––Brick’s vampires and Black’s team would descend to grab Charles. They’d knock him out if necessary, lock down his light to keep his seers from following us, remove any tracking devices on him, and move him to a secure location.

  Black assured me he would only kill Charles if he absolutely had to.

  From what I could tell, Brick primarily wanted to put Jem and the other seers on Charles––and his own vampires, if possible or necessary––to find out who else was behind Charles’ coup. He wanted to know exactly which humans they needed to neutralize to stop whatever Charles had put in motion.

  He also wanted to stop the “vampires live among us” narrative in its tracks.

  In addition to the four snipers, an unspecified number of vampires would be close by when I actually met face to face with Charles. Black said I likely wouldn’t know any of them; he seemed to think it would be easier for me to avoid tells if I had no idea who was just a random human walking by and who was on their team.

  I agreed with that, too.

  The vampires were there primarily as physical back-up, but also as an intimidation tool, if need be. They would likely only reveal themselves if the latter became necessary.

  Most of the vampires Brick called to D.C.––meaning those from places other than La Fitte, New Orleans, or D.C. itself––would be hidden with the seers. From what I overheard, vampires traveled here from all over the East Coast: New York, Baltimore, Philadelphia, Richmond, Charlottesville, even as far south as Charleston and Atlanta.

  Like most of Black’s human team, they would only come out of hiding if they were needed, meaning if Black’s snipers didn’t manage to drop Charles on their own.

  In terms of sheer numbers, I couldn’t imagine how we wouldn’t have the overwhelming advantage––unless Charles really did call in the United States military to shadow him when he came to talk to me.

  I couldn’t imagine him ordering another bombing or missile attack, here in the middle of the nation’s capital. Then again, before yesterday, I never would have imagined such a thing could happen in New Orleans.

  The biggest advantage we had was the vampires themselves, of course.

  That wasn’t only in terms of numbers, although the numbers helped.

  Charles wouldn’t expect us to come here with a veritable vampire army, no matter what he thought we might bring with us in terms of human support. He would likely expect the immigrant seers, a large number of military-trained humans, maybe even the Navajo kids and adults from Ship Rock.

  He wouldn’t expect me, much less Black, to ally with vampires.

  He definitely wouldn’t expect us to show up here with Brick, of all people.

  Forcing myself to breathe, to try and relax, I reminded myself of all these things as I stood on the edge of a tree-lined walk, watching the sun descend in the sky.

  Touching my ear reflexively for the earpiece I wore, I scanned the trees, pausing on the domed pagoda of the Washington War Memorial, which stood at the intersection of several footpaths leading into different parts of Ash Woods.

  Humans strolled through the trees here and there, some of them obviously tourists, some wearing suits that suggested they worked either on the Hill or somewhere nearby. I saw an older woman wrapped in a shawl feeding birds from one of the park benches lining the path.

  I didn’t see a single person who looked or felt like they were a part of Black’s team.

  Relax, doc, Black murmured in my mind. I can see you right now. You won’t leave my sight, not once through this. I promise.

  Do you know where he is? Biting my lip, I took a sip from the paper cup of coffee I carried in one gloved hand. Is he back at his hotel?

  No. The White House. West Wing. Black’s mind grew stripped, military-like. He’s wrapping up a meeting in one of the conference rooms. We’re waiting until it finishes, so the shields around him drop somewhat.

  What if he can’t come? I murmured back in my mind. What if he can’t get away?

  He’ll get away, Black sent. For you, he will.

  Swallowing, I gave a bare nod, knowing he would likely see that too––whether through the scope of a rifle or a set of binoculars.

  There was another long-feeling pause while I stood there, waiting for Uncle Charles’ meeting at the White House to wrap up. I glanced around at the woods, watching the branches sway in a breeze, watching birds flit from one branch to another, chirping at one another.

  Sipping compulsively at the giant Americano with extra milk and sugar I carried, I picked up snippets of conversation as people passed by on the dirt path in front of me.

  No one got very close.

  After a few more seconds, I found myself listening to birds more than people, fighting to clear my head. I wanted to be as calm and centered as possible when I spoke to Charles, but the longer the time stretched, the more distracted and wound up I felt.

  I was about to ping Black, to ask him if they were almost finished, when his mind rose smoothly in mine.

  Okay, doc, he sent softly. Call him.

  Biting my lip, I nodded.

  I didn’t give myself time to second-guess any of it. I didn’t want to wait for something to go wrong, or for something delay us yet again. I didn’t want to do anything that might lose us our last window, before we got pulled into Charles’ vision of the world for good.

  So I didn’t let myself think.

  I didn’t let myself plan any of it.

  I just reached out my light, looking for my only living uncle.

  24

  THE WORLD IS DYING

  MIRI! RELIEF EXPLODED over my light, infusing me with such intense warmth, so much love and genuine happiness, it caught me completely off guard. My gods, Miriam… you have no idea how glad I am to hear from you! I’ve been worried sick. Are you all right? What about Black? Is he okay? Are the two of you––

  I cut him off, probably to deal with his light as much as anything.

  I need to see you, I sent. I need to see you right now, Uncle Charles. In person.

  There was a silence.

  His thoughts grew serious, down to business.

  Where are you? I’ll come to you right now. Tell me where you are.

  I’m here. I looked around at the woods and trees, pausing on the white dome of the War Memorial, letting him see the view through my eyes. I’m in D.C., in the woods near the reflecting pool. I need to talk to you, Uncle Charles. Right away. If I see Secret Service, or any guards, or any of your people from France, I’m going to assume––

  I’ll come, he sent at once. Minimal guards, Miri, I promise. Give me fifteen minutes. I’ll come right now. Fifteen minutes. Twenty at most.

  His mind fell abruptly silent.

  His presence evaporated from my light.

  Rather than use my own light, which I worried Charles might feel if he was only pretending to have left my mind, I touched the earpiece I wore instead.

  “He’s on his way,” I said.

  Black’s answering voice sounded strangely loud through the physical device.

  “We know. He’s heading for the exit already, Miri. Whatever you said, it must have been convincing.”

  “I didn’t say much of anything.” Raising the coffee cup to my lips, I noticed my hand was shaking and lowered it. “Black… his light. He felt so happy to hear from me. So relieved. He asked about you. It was so convincing––”

  Black’s voice grew lower, softer, even as he cut me off.

  “Take a few breaths, Miri,” he said. “Just breathe, all right? Nothing has changed. He tried to have me picked up. He sent the government after me. We know this.”

  “If we believe Brick,” I muttered.

  Bl
ack’s voice hardened. “I read it off him. I believe him.”

  “Are you sure there’s no way he could fake that?”

  A different voice rose above me and Black’s.

  “I’m very sure,” the vampire said coldly. “There’s no way he could ‘fake that,’ Dr. Black. What you are suggesting is completely impossible.”

  I should have known he was on the same line.

  I couldn’t really make myself care, though.

  “The most we could do is hide something from view,” Brick added, equally cold. “We could not invent something out of whole cloth. Are you doubting our standing in this? Again, Miriam? Simply because your uncle was ‘nice’ to you? Because he gave you warm fuzzies? I thought we’d all agreed this person was our mutual threat?”

  There was a silence, that one longer.

  I heard a few soft clicking noises––then Black’s voice rose.

  I noticed at once that the line sounded different.

  It sounded quieter somehow, more deadened.

  “This is a private channel,” Black said at once. “Are you really having doubts about Charles’ involvement in this, doc? After everything we’ve seen over the past few days?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  Then frowning, thinking, I amended my words.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “Maybe. He sounded so happy. His light, Black… his voice. He sounded so damned happy. I really wasn’t expecting that.”

  “Remember what he is, doc.” Black’s voice grew taut, holding a faint warning. “You didn’t grow up in that world… I did. You wouldn’t believe the shit I saw infiltrators do with their minds. You wouldn’t believe the ways they could fight and disguise themselves, using only their light. You wouldn’t believe how skilled they were at manipulating others… and not only humans.”

  The warning in his voice grew more prominent.

  “Miri, on Old Earth, there were whole government agencies devoted to finding seers and making their lives a living hell. Those agencies employed highly-trained seers to ferret out other seers, to know what they were doing, when they were lying, what laws they were breaking, whether they had ‘terrorist tendencies,’ who their associates were. You learn things about your light and mind in a world like that… things you can’t imagine. And your uncle was a terrorist, Miri. He was a radical, even then. He had to hide that from everyone around him. He had to hide that from seers as skilled as Jem, practically every day.”

  Black exhaled.

  I saw him look out over the same kinds of trees where I was, right before the view altered, going dark once he realized I could see through his eyes.

  “Try to stay focused, honey,” he said, soft. “You’re a scientist. Look at the evidence we have. Look objectively at the evidence of his involvement in all this… not to mention what we know of his psychology, his motivations. Your uncle’s a zealot… a religious fanatic. Moreover, he’s dedicated most of his life to the pursuit of that ideology. It comes before everything else for him. Even you.”

  I nodded, closing my eyes, then opening them again.

  “I know.” Sighing, I combed my fingers through my hair. “I know, Black.”

  I did, too. I knew he was right.

  I also knew my uncle loved me.

  “He does love you, Miri,” Black said, soft. “But you have to understand… those things aren’t mutually exclusive. They don’t erase everything else he is.”

  I knew that, too.

  I honestly had no idea what was wrong with me, why I was so worried by everything I could feel swirling in the Barrier space around me.

  The world is dying… a voice murmured, soft.

  I jumped.

  When I did, I bit my lip in reflex, so hard my teeth broke the skin.

  “What?” Black’s voice came out in a near-growl. “Miri? I saw you jump. What happened? Was that Charles?”

  Wiping my bleeding lip, I took a sip of my Americano and winced.

  “No,” I said. “No, it wasn’t Charles.”

  I knew that voice, though.

  I’d heard it before.

  I’d heard it often once upon a time, particularly during the period Uncle Charles held Black captive in Paris. While Black was gone, usually cut off from my mind and light, I seemed to hear that voice every day.

  It had gone mostly silent in the time since.

  Lately, though, I’d felt it around me again.

  I still had no idea what it meant, but I now had a name to attach to the presence I felt.

  “Your friend,” I said, swallowing another sip of coffee. “Coreq. We need to talk about Coreq at some point, Black.”

  The silence grew thick.

  Then Black’s voice rose, bewildered.

  “Coreq?” He waited a beat, as if hoping he’d misheard me. “Did you just say we need to talk about my friend, Coreq?” Pain plumed off his light. “Miri, why would you bring up Coreq now? What does Coreq have to do with any of this? What does he have to do with Charles? What does he have to do with anything?”

  I shook my head.

  I didn’t have a good answer for him.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted.

  I knew Black was right, though.

  This definitely wasn’t the time to have that conversation.

  “Never mind.” Wincing when I accidentally bit my lip in the same place, I shook my head. “Never mind, Black. Where’s Charles? How close is he? Can Jem and the others tell?”

  Black hesitated, as if unsure if he should let it go.

  Then he shook it off, switching back to his military voice.

  “He’s moving fast. He got picked up by a car from the West Wing driveway. He’s heading down 17th now. He’ll be here in under the twenty minutes he told you, doc, unless he stops somewhere on the way.” Pausing, he added, “It’s unlikely he’ll have time to put much in place. Unless he had a contingency set up for this already.”

  Nodding, I took another, larger swallow of coffee.

  I knew there was a good chance Charles would have a contingency for something like this. I knew Black knew that too, so I didn’t bother to voice it aloud.

  “Miri, calm down. It’s okay.”

  “What if it’s not?” I blurted. “What if it’s not okay, Black?”

  There was a silence.

  Then Black spoke again, his voice cautious. “What do you mean?”

  I hesitated, then shook my head.

  “I honestly don’t know.” Still shaking my head, I frowned, scanning the trees with my eyes and my seer’s sight. “I don’t know, Black. I can’t give you anything concrete. I can feel it though… can’t you? Whatever was changing, it’s already changed. Everything has changed, Black, only the signs of it haven’t trickled out to where they’re visible yet.”

  Pausing, I took another sip of my rapidly-cooling Americano.

  “Or maybe it’s just too late,” I muttered, fighting that tightness in my chest. “Maybe it’s barreling down on us too fast to stop it anymore.”

  I felt a pulse of misgiving off Black.

  I also felt him turning over my words, comparing them to what he felt off my light.

  “Can you feel that?” I said, sharper. “Can you feel what I’m talking about, Black? Or am I just losing my mind?”

  “I can’t feel it, Miri,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean you’re losing your mind.”

  There was another silence.

  In it, I could feel Black wanting to say more, or maybe just ask me more.

  I was halfway holding my breath, waiting to see if he would speak, if he would ask whatever he wanted to ask, when the line changed abruptly, opening up to other minds, other lights. I felt the difference as much as heard it; it was no longer just me and Black on my earpiece anymore.

  It was Brick, it was Dorian, it was Brick’s other vampire generals, along with Dex, Kiko, Easton, Frank, Javier, Jem, Yarli, Cowboy, Nick, Angel, Manny.

  “He’s almost here, Miri,” Black said. “He di
dn’t pause in the car. He got straight out. He’s coming. He’s heading your way.”

  I swallowed, nodding.

  Looking towards where I knew the road came closest to this part of Ash Woods, I could only stand there, waiting.

  I clutched my paper coffee cup tighter in one hand as I looked for the distinctive form of my father’s brother, who’d been my adored Uncle Charles when I was a child. Since then, I’d learned to know him as Charles Andrey Vasiliev, Russian oligarch, and as “Lucky Lucifer,” Soviet killer in Spetsnaz who targeted Americans during the Vietnam War.

  In the end though, Uncle Charles wasn’t any of those things.

  In the end, he was a terrorist seer from a world I still knew next to nothing about.

  I WATCHED HIM approach.

  Once I actually saw him, something in me went strangely calm.

  He looked just like he always looked––like he looked when I was first old enough to remember him, back when I clutched his shirt and hair when my sister and I used to ride him around our old house in San Francisco like he was a horse.

  I remembered thinking he was handsome, even as a little girl.

  He was handsome still, his chiseled features ageless, his pale green eyes striking under dark eyebrows and streaked blond hair. His strong jaw had a glimpse of five o’clock shadow. He wore a green dress shirt that matched his eyes and a black, perfectly tailored suit with long lines that emphasized his height and trim but muscular build.

  He wore a heavier black overcoat over the suit, also well-cut, expensive-looking and tailored to fit him perfectly.

  He walked directly up to me, his green eyes studying my face even as a smile crept out over his lips. Instead of stopping when he reached me, he kept walking, enveloping me in his arms as he crushed me up against his chest in a hug, kissing me on each cheek.

  I hugged him back, even as a wash of confused feelings came over me.

  I couldn’t help feeling like a betrayer, even with everything I knew.

  Charles was family. He was the only family I had left.

  According to him, vampires killed my sister, and my parents.

  Vampires were the reason my life went to hell when I was a kid. They were the reason it got even worse in my twenties, when my sister was murdered.