Fingertips led to knuckles. Knuckles led slowly and painfully to more of his fingers until finally he had enough of his hands inside to grip. Then, he started to pull with his arms, so that the doors would move away from each other. At first they stood firmly still, but with time and focus they began to budge like glaciers in the sea. The opening exposed more dull gray features from inside the elevator, only these were of a different texture than the rest of what he had seen inside the hallways and his cell.
Seeing inside the doors encouraged his strength and will and he pulled harder with more focus, creating a gap wide enough he could have fit his arm into. After a moment of even more focus and pulling with all of his strength, he had the doors open with enough of a gap to fit in sideways. He let go with his right hand and twisted his body fast enough to catch hold of the door and then wedged himself through. As soon as he was in the elevator the doors slammed back together and an alarm sounded within the tiny space. Red lights flashed all over the control panels.
Jack tried typing instructions on the keypad along the right side of the doorway, but nothing happened in return save for the monotonous screaming and flashing of the alarm. In frustration, Jack swung his fist full on into the control panel, shattering it like glass. Silver shrapnel shot out in all directions and sparks flew as electricity hissed from inside the hole that had been the panel.
He reached his hand inside the hole and felt the pressurized jolt of electricity flowing through his body. It barely slowed him as he pulled his hand back from the opening with a handful of wires and metal. The alarm stopped, but still the elevator sat still. Jack looked up at the ceiling and could see the vulnerability he had been looking for.
He flung himself upward with all of his might and slammed through the thin sheet of metal that covered the top of the elevator car. Dozens of thick cords, which usually held the elevator as it went up and down the shaft, reached upward and downward deep into the darkness. He grabbed two of them and immediately pulled himself upward toward the mixed scent of his prize and the Emperor's musky dead odor.
He pressed his feet into the side of the elevator shaft as he continued to pull on the cords, sending himself upward at an incredible rate of speed. Friction had long ago warmed his feet to the point of pain, but he was determined to find his prey. His momentum and the scent of them grew in a cycle; each one pushing the other further on. He glanced back in a flash as he passed another floor. A quick sniff of the air told him to continue upward.
Several more floors up and the smell was overwhelming. A sense of gleeful anticipation grew within him and he held it back so when the time was right he could let it explode. He knew as he climbed beyond it, the next floor was the last one he would have to pass. He looked upward at the elevator doors protecting the entryway to the floor he desperately needed inside. When he was at just the right distance he leapt backwards in an upward somersault. His body moved through the air with an elegance most figure skaters would kill to emulate. This time, although he was sure it would hurt insanely, he knew he was blasting through that door. He envisioned it and his muscles prepared for the shock of the coming collision.
His momentum combined with gravity managed to slam him into the door with enough force to bend the doors inward and give him something to grab hold of. His feet planted on the thin flap of flooring where the doors were bent inward. He pushed forward and leaned his weight into the doors. The doors stretched open more. He swung into the opening feet first.
When his feet were in, he only had to use his hands to pull the rest of his body through. Once inside, he assessed his surroundings. He was in a gray hallway adjacent to the elevator. It was like all the others except that it wasn't lined with cell doors. He let the scent of the children's innocence wash over him.
Something was wrong.
They had been separated. One's scent came from one direction and the other girl's came from another. He found himself at a loss as to which direction to go. The Emperor's deathly odor was in neither direction and the two scents were identical. He decided either one would be the same, so he ran in the first direction his instincts told him to go. Although he ran, his body moved with the stealth and skill of a lion. A ways down the hallway, it intersected with another adjacent to it. The smell came from the new hallway and Jack turned left with immense speed.
He'd come close to slamming into the wall as he swung into the new corridor. It wasn't nearly as long as the hallway he'd just come from but there were still no cell doors lining the walls and he could see it ended in a single doorway. The door stood ajar and a faint glow spilled out from inside. As he charged silently closer to the door, several smells caught his attention. There was a hint of pickle and rye coming from the little girl's breath. Also, saturated sweat and urine marked his prey's fear. It had been the one thing missing from the Emperor's first offering.
That smell mixed with the scent of innocent blood drove him mad and he purposely let his footfalls rise in volume. The increase in her heartbeat combined with the collage of perfumes mixed together made for the ultimate temptation.
As he neared the door, he slowed himself to a human race-walk. Then he steadied his rhythm gradually until he was just outside the door stepping with deliberate intimidation. The girl began to whimper with fright. This was the best part of the kill. Savoring it.
"There, there, little lamb. It's just me... Jack. Mum was nice enough to give a chap a nice topping off."
The girl's whimpering turned to nearly silent screams of terror.
"What's the matter, little lamb?" he stepped into the room where she sat curled up in the corner behind a small wood-finished desk. Jack stopped and stood there, his bare feet slapping against the cool, white linoleum tiles of flooring. He looked down at her, his fangs fully showing behind a cruel grin. The girl curled up tighter trying to back impossibly farther into the corner, her body shaking with trepidation.
Jack leaned down, bending at the knees until he was at eye level with the precious, innocent, sweaty little girl. He looked her in the eyes and she broke his gaze, quickly looking at the floor. He reached his hand out and she screamed, but he didn't flinch as he continued to gently set his hand under her chin. Her flesh quivered at his touch as he lifted her head to reinitiate eye contact. She tried to look away with just her eyes, but he gripped just tightly enough to move her head so no matter where she tried to divert her eyes, they would still be locked in his general direction.
After a moment of this, she gave up rebelling and returned his gaze lamely, her body still shuddering with horror.
"There. Now that wasn't so hard, was it, little lass? Now tell me... what's your pretty little name, girl?"
She opened her mouth to speak and her teeth chattered violently as a faint, hoarse groan uttered from the back of her throat.
Jack released her chin and brought the back of his hand down the side of her face in a soft caress. "Shh. I suppose I've overestimated your ability to keep cool under pressure. I do believe I'm scaring the willies out of you. That just isn't very fair, now is it?"
The girl nodded, a sweat-soaked curl coming loose from behind her ear.
"Yes, I know. How about we even the odds just a little, eh? Give you a fair chance. Whattayasay?"
She nodded again and with that, Jack stood and stretched out his arm in a "right this way" gesture. She looked at him with an expression of surprise and made her way up from the floor, sliding against the corner as she stood shaking.
Jack took several steps back to clear a path to the door. "Go ahead. I promise, I won't bite..."
The girl took a single, cautious step, then another. Then, she took several more in more rapid procession.
"...Just yet."
She stopped abruptly, her body convulsing with fear. Jack smiled and winked at her almost solemnly. She seemed to relax some causing Jack's patience to thin. But he knew if he waited it out, his reward would be a hunt and fear so much more than he was already savoring. She took several more steps and
was merely a few feet away, the smell of her sweat and blood nearly mesmerizing.
The next step she took, before she had a chance to even set her foot down, Jack crept down behind her shoulder and whispered in her ear with a tender inflection in his voice.
"If you want any chance to get away, now's the bit where you'll want to run, lass."
The little girl's shoulder fluttered with every syllable. "Run with all of the fury your little precious feet can stammer out."
There was no hesitation. Her little body erupted into a run straight through the doorway. Her tiny black dress shoes clapped against the flooring as she raced down the hallway. It took a deeply calculated will to keep still as she went. He stood there waiting like a granite statue. But as soon as she got to the corner and turned at the main hallway, he finally let go.
He shot forward after her with the stealth and grace of a lion. Air blew back his hair from his eyes and friction warmed his flesh from the quickness of his sprint.
Chapter 4
Submit Unto Caesar
Hank pulled into the vast parking lot of the local Imperial Church and parked in a secluded area. He killed the engine and sat there staring into the steering wheel of the car. He'd spent more time in his own head lately than ever before in his life. The most important things he had to say and do, for now, had to be kept to himself. Otherwise, the Emperor would know them too.
The sun was setting over the horizon beyond the parking lot. He'd been having to adjust his sleeping schedule in order to prepare for his first visit back to the city of the dead. He pulled the keys from the ignition and got out of the car. He walked toward the huge church, the bottoms of his shoes slapping against the blacktop and echoing across the parking lot.
Two sentries greeted him at the door as he went to enter. One had a long scar across his right cheek. The other had a high forehead resembling that of a Neanderthal. Both had short, trimmed black hair.
"The Emperor is waiting in his private chambers," the scarred sentry said.
"Thanks."
They opened the doors for him as though he were a guest of honor. He'd been able to tell from his interactions with them that more than a few highly coveted his position. They could have it for all he cared. If it weren't for his need to contact Ishan, he might've made a run for it over a week ago. No, he knew better than that. There was still the matter of the implant to overcome.
And there was still the blood.
He stepped inside the seemingly empty church and walked between the pews down the same aisle he had the day he was "blessed" into his position. Without all the mindless, screaming worshipers the room seemed dead. The throne sat empty at the top of the stage. Without the Emperor sitting there, Hank could see that the back wall was lined with the same stained glass image of Caesar that covered each huge window of the church.
Hank passed the stage and opened the side door that he knew led to the Emperor's chambers. He knew it wasn't Caesar's real chambers though. He'd been in those chambers before. This church, like many others, only served as a place for him to indulge in being the center of adulation.
Two more sentries stood guard at the door to the Emperor's chambers. They both stood aside as Hank came close but neither of them attempted to open the door for him. Probably out of fear of the Emperor.
Hank looked them each in the eyes one at a time and then knocked on the door with three short knocks.
"You may enter," came the Emperor's scratchy voice from behind the door.
Hank opened it and walked inside. It was a small featureless room with wood-stained walls. The Emperor sat in a huge luxurious chair almost the size of his throne. Hank had to fight back the familiar hatred that bubbled in his throat whenever he saw the man. Caesar motioned to a simple wooden chair sitting in front of him. Hank took the chair and sat facing the Emperor with the best composed face he could stand to make.
"You've been practicing tuning your senses like we've been working on?"
"Yes. I'm making great progress, especially with my hearing."
"Good. I had been monitoring your progress from time to time, but I've been rather busy this past few days." A sly smile came to the Emperor's face and made Hank's stomach turn. "Besides... The last I checked, your progress was more than satisfactory. Tonight, we have other business to attend to."
Hank felt a slight dizziness come over him. What now?
"I have made a decision that will affect a great many lives, be them human or not. And with you in a position to be my eyes and ears within Necropolis," the word came out metallic and bitter, "I'll need you to follow some more particular instructions while you're there. You will receive these instructions directly from me." The Emperor let out a long sigh that came off almost cheerful and then he bore his eyes into Hank's and smiled.
"I haven't been completely honest with you, although I haven't really lied either. There is one more thing your implant can do that I didn't feel the need to relay to you before making this decision. The implant can also relay messages to you in an auditory fashion."
Hank let out his held breath. He was sure for a moment there that the Emperor would say it could read his mind.
"Given that I will need to make use of this method of communication, I wanted to give you advanced notice, so it wouldn't alarm you or cause you to do something stupid." The Emperor stood up and started to pace around the room. "I also wanted to remind you, Mr. Evans, that I intend beyond a doubt to stay true to the deal we made. Most especially with my expectations for you to gather information within the city, I will need you to do nothing and I mean nothing at all to alert Ishan or the other vampires to your intentions." He sighed again, this time in mock pity. "If one of them were to have the slightest notion of what you were doing, it would be most sorrowful for little Toby, now wouldn't it, Mr. Evans?"
The Emperor's cold clammy hands clamped down on Hank's shoulders from behind. Hank centered himself as best he could to keep from lashing out or saying something he would regret.
As if on cue, there was a knock at the door and the Emperor released his grip on Hank's shoulders.
"You may enter, Mr. Draper."
Hank turned around as the door opened and a pale man of medium height and build with dirty blond hair framing his face entered the room and closed the door behind him.
"Mr. Draper, I'd like you to meet Mr. Evans."
The man named Draper locked eyes with Hank and a chill ran down Hank's back.
"I recognize 'im from the photo in his file, Mr. Caesar," the man said in a thick British accent. Hank stood staring at him in awe. Not only had he not addressed the Emperor as lord, but something immediately caught Hank's attention when Draper spoke. Those two sharp, pointy teeth.
"Hank Evans meet Jack Draper."
Draper made his way toward Hank and reached out his hand as if to be shaken. Hank reached in return and before he had a chance to stop what was happening, Draper grabbed Hank's hand and pulled his arm behind his back, turning him round and pushing his face into the wooden chair he'd been sitting in.
"You see, Mr. Evans, Mr. Draper will be responsible for taking care of things if you step even one hair out of line. And I don't mean just you. If you should do anything rash or even slip up and have yourself caught while following my instructions, Mr. Draper here will be sent for your son. And I'll have you know, he happens to have a rather strong liking for innocent blood."
Draper snickered as he pressed Hank's face harder against the chair that was now lifting from the gray carpeted floor. This vampire was strong. Hank was fully tuned to his senses and strength and much stronger than he'd been when in Necropolis with having had a regular supply of blood build up in his body. Yet this vampire held him with ease against his will.
"Release him, Mr. Draper."
The vampire released Hank from the excruciating hold he'd had him in. Hank stood up and shook his arm to try and loosen the muscles. He looked at Draper and Draper returned a devilish grin.
"What do you pl
an on doing that you need me to spy on them?" he asked, continuing to stare at Draper.
"Mr. Evans, what makes you think I have any intention of telling you?"
Draper winked at Hank, still giving him that amused look.
Hank swallowed, turned, and locked eyes with the Emperor, keeping his mouth shut. He'd already crossed a line and he knew it.
"That will be all, Mr. Evans. Mr. Draper, would you be kind enough to walk Mr. Evans to his car?"
"It would be my pleasure, sir," Draper said with that thick British accent. Then he turned and opened the door and motioned for Hank to go first. Hank walked through to find both sentries gone. He stopped just outside the door. Draper came out and walked past him, heading for the main worship room. Hank followed briskly, his body still shaking from their exchange.
When Hank came into the main worship room, he was surprised to find Draper staring bitterly at the Emperor's throne. When he noticed Hank, Draper's face became smooth and void of emotion. He turned on his heel and started for the main doors. When the two were outside and walking toward the car in the cool night air, Draper stopped abruptly and turned to Hank.
Hank stopped and waited anxiously for whatever might come. Draper reached into his jacket and pulled out something small, thin, and white Hank couldn't make out at first. Draper turned it over and Hank understood instantly. It was a picture of Toby taken recently. From the looks of the surroundings in the photo, it had been taken while he sat on their porch and without him knowing it.
"I've already been to your home, Mr. Evans. Already smelled the little bugger's blood for myself. Don't make me go back, understand?"
Empire of Blood [Box Set] Page 27
