“Vamps bask in power.”
“But lycans are free? Why do you say that?”
Felicia moved her head so her masses of blonde hair framed her perfect face. “Okay, Logan, I’ll try to explain.” She didn’t sound condescending, just earnest. “It’s the freedom of being here in this house today, but knowing I could be just as happy in the depths of a forest or on the wilds of the moors tomorrow. It’s the freedom of being able to mingle, with anyone, anytime. We don’t need anything material to be happy. We just need the Run, passion, sex, excitement. All the best things that gets your blood up. Could you say that? Could any other species?”
Felicia took a breath and fixed me with her deep saucer-like eyes. “But, most of all, it’s the wild, uninhibited sense of the Run. When we change we are raw nature, untamed and unbound, beyond regulation and rule. The Run is true freedom, Logan, the passing of tree and root, the caress of the harsh sun or the silvery moon upon your flawless body. When you get that kind of release, well, that’s why you howl.”
I didn’t know what to say. She made it sound so good.
“Don’t believe a word,” a new voice boomed from behind me. I started, almost spilling my coffee as I whipped around.
Ceriden said, “Sorry, Logan, dearest. Us ‘material-beings’ tend to move without making much sound.”
I lifted my mug. “Grab a coffee.”
“Is it double blended?” Ceriden asked. “With blood and a pinch of Bram?”
I certainly hoped not, but before I could speak Ceriden went on, “Felicia, I simply love the way your belly-button ring sparkles when you twist it, but please give it a break.” He made a nauseous sound.
Felicia screwed her face up. “This, coming from a vampire?”
Ceriden waggled his long fingers at her. “Felicia misrepresents us, I feel. Have you been on the ‘Shrooms again, poodle?”
“’Shrooms?” I questioned, as Felicia giggled.
“Magic mushrooms,” Ceriden smiled. “Are a lycan delicacy. They have the same effect on lycans as cannabis does on humans. Or Bram does on vampires. They make her frisky.”
I stared at the blonde wolf in human form. “You mean she’s high?”
“Most of the time.” Ceriden reached into the freezer, levered out a carton of blood and placed it in the microwave. “Emergency ration,” he said to my appalled look.
“Well, Mr. ‘fashion-victim‘, I hear your powers might have started to surface?”
“Not really.”
“What did you feel?”
“Sick. I almost threw up.”
“Almost? Well, try studying your dress sense. That should do the trick. Anyway, avoiding the situation will not change it.”
“It’s not your situation. Maybe I’m the wrong man. And what the hell is Bram?”
“You don’t want to believe it.” Ceriden ignored my question and sidled with perturbing speed and grace over to the table. He picked up a copy of Cosmo and started leafing through it. “That’s fine. But you did feel something. Sweet-cheeks told me, and it was a response to the danger your friend was in. Devon Summers had a similar response to the danger she was in. Devon, however, had no choice but to embrace her powers.”
I met the vampire’s hard gaze. “It saved her life, didn’t it?”
“Yes. And now face this fact- one day soon your life will be in danger. And the lives of your friends, and your daughter. What will you do then?”
“You can’t put this on me,” I turned away, not liking the way my playful conversation with Felicia had turned. “I didn’t ask for it. Christ, I have a disturbed daughter, a wife I haven’t seen in two years, a huge debt, and a business to run. Do you really think I need to take on your burdens too?”
“Your daughter will be fine,” the vampire said a little too quickly.
“I don’t want you anywhere near my daughter.”
Lucy was vulnerable, impressionable, and fifteen.
“I understand,” Ceriden inclined his head, diffusing the situation in a second. I wasn’t sure what else to say so I turned to Felicia. “Have you guys turned anything up on this ultimate evil that’s rising? Whatever’s behind all this?”
“Gorgoroth,” Ceriden said.
“Our resources go back thousands of years," she said. “No text mentions him. No volume references him. The library is so vast. It’s like looking for your favourite tree in the forest,” she tried a grin. “Practically impossible.”
I smiled at her little joke at her own expense. “Too many books, too little time,” I said. “Maybe you’re looking in the wrong place.”
“Meaning?” I sensed Ceriden’s sudden interest
“I don’t know," I said in frustration. “But it makes sense. If all your scholars can’t turn up one single thing, then change your strategy. Look elsewhere.”
Ceriden gulped down whatever the hell he was drinking, then threw the carton in the rubbish and headed for the door with his copy of Cosmo tucked under his arm. “Tristran has a hundred thousand volumes to go through. We are all doing what we can,” he said. “I think you should do the same, Mr. Logan.”
Ceriden flounced out of the room, choosing the dramatic exit.
I stared after him, turning my mug in my hands and biting my lip to stifle any pointless retort. When I turned back to Felicia she was staring at me with a mix of sympathy and interest.
“Don’t mind him,” she said. “He thinks he’s second in command of the master race and, who knows, he could be right.” Felicia rose to her feet, and once again I was left staring at her belly-button ring.
“It’s an Uber thing,” she said again, then deliberately looked down and twisted it through the hole it made in her flesh.
“I hear Belinda’s got one too,” she said, her words making doubly sure I stared as she walked out the door. Alone in the kitchen and surrounded by the comforting smell of fresh coffee and the blunted fury of the storm outside, I tried again to absorb everything that had been said and done in the last few days.
In turmoil, I turned to the coffee pot.
22
LAS VEGAS, U.S.A.
The man called Loki flew into McCarran airport and quickly located the nearest Starbucks. The fulfillment of Vice Number Two was paramount. After that he flagged down a cab and asked to be taken to the Bellagio hotel on Las Vegas Boulevard. He scanned the dusk-filled roads as they drove whilst punching out a number on his cell phone.
A woman’s voice answered immediately. “Crowe.”
“You know who this is?”
“Yes Sir, I do.”
“Good,” his lips, like pale rat’s tails, curled in a grimace of satisfaction. “I am His Commander. You will do as I say.”
“Yes.”
“I have the address. The target is there right now. The Vampire race will never recover.”
“We will be successful.”
“We will have to be. There is no one else. Trickster is in deep cover. Sorcerer is in Barbados, and shortly Hawaii. Malevolence is in north England. Spirit will soon be in London.”
“And Eradicator is already in place in New Babylon,” Crowe finished. “I watch CNN, too.”
“Ah yes. I enjoyed the concert coverage hugely the other night, by the way. And one thing,” Loki watched the bright procession of hotels pass the cab window as they turned on to the Strip. “This must end by midnight. We have just located one of the Eight in L.A., and I must be there by morning.”
23
YORK, ENGLAND
It felt like my head had just hit the pillow when Lucy came bursting into my room, shouting: “Get up! Wake up! Something’s happened! Dad!”
I tried to wedge my eyes open. “Lubbghh?”
“It’s Ceriden! Something’s happened to Ceriden! Mai and Vipas won’t let us see him!”
I sat up slowly. “Slow down, Luce. What’s happened?” And who the hell were Mai and Vipas?
“I don’t know,” Lucy was hopping about, beside herself. “They won’t tell me.”
It didn’t sound good. “Ten minutes,” I said. “Meet me in the kitchen. Ask Belinda to put some of that Zambian blend on.” Good quality coffee was fast becoming my new addiction.
“Can’t. She left earlier to collect Giles and a woman called Lysette Cohen from Manchester airport.”
“Okaaaay.” My daughter was even quicker than Sky News. I waved at her to close the door. Five minutes later I was pouring my own coffee. I checked my watch. Jesus, it was barely past seven. I turned away and headed for the patio doors, which were thrown open to allow access to the garden. I spotted Holly immediately.
“Hol,” I nodded and sipped my coffee.
“James keeps on ringing,” Holly said in a flat voice.
“James?”
“Tentative boyfriend. ‘He who is younger than me and the source of humour to you.’”
“Maybe he can’t find his school bag?”
“Bite me.”
“Have you seen Lucy?” I cast around, pursing my lips.
“Not so far,” Holly nodded towards the kitchen. “Big morning, it seems. What’s going on in there?”
“Didn’t wait to find out. Where did all these people come from anyway?”
“They have been arriving since six,” an American drawl came from behind us.
I turned, and caught my breath. I had no doubt this was Devon Summers, the Hawaiian girl who had recently come into her power. Red, wavy hair fell to the middle of her back, piercing green eyes pinned us. An aura of contentment seemed to surround her.
“Hi, I’m Devon,” she laughed. “You are the first of the Eight I have met.”
We shook hands. Her touch was light and luxurious, like silk. “This is Holly, my friend,” I said.
After our introductions some chitchat followed. I suddenly felt that I wanted my best friend to leave. I wanted to quiz this red-headed woman, Devon, who had embraced her power. I wanted to talk to her privately, and tell her that I didn’t believe in my own ability. I wanted to see her reaction. In truth I wanted to get the hell out of there and run back to my old life like there was no tomorrow.
The garden buzzed with conversation. It was quite pleasant out here, in the midst of so many people at seven o clock in the morning. I sipped my coffee, feeling the cool breeze float over me. The finely cut grass was still damp from last night’s rain.
A commotion at the door caught my attention. Belinda strode out, fixed her eyes on me, and headed over. She seemed fit and fresh, not like someone who had already driven to Manchester airport and back this morning. Today’s t-shirt read: juicy. Behind her I saw a self-assured, dark-haired woman stepping carefully across the grass in what looked like a very expensive pair of designer shoes. Her bearing and mode of dress shouted wealth at me louder than any black AmEx card.
Belinda stopped next to me and nodded. “Logan. This is Lysette Cohen. She is one of the Eight, and recently flew in from Monaco.” Belinda struck a pose in her tight leather trousers, looked me in the eyes, then grinned.
“Careful, tiger,” she said. “This girl can read your mind.”
Not long after that we were summoned through to the kitchen. I quelled a panic attack. Things were starting to move faster. More of the Eight were arriving every day. Could I really be one of them? So far as I knew only Kisami and I had yet to prove ourselves. And Kisami couldn’t even speak English.
Myleene spoke up as we all crowded into the kitchen. “First the good news,” she said. “Aegis’ plan, is working. Today, Lysette Cohen has arrived to join Devon, Kisami, and Logan.”
Lysette smiled, but the expression didn’t touch her eyes. Her rigid body language spoke of nerves; maybe she was a loner and the group dynamic unsettled her.
“What news of Cleaver?” Felicia asked.
“Safe in Miami. Soon we will have a hundred clans in that area. Containment is our only option until we learn more of Gorgoroth and his Destroyers. Matt Black, another of the Eight, has been located in L.A. and is currently being sought by Eldritch. Hopefully, Ken Hamilton should arrive in York tomorrow.”
I heard Belinda utter a low grrr and tried to ignore her.
“The remaining two,” Myleene flicked at a wrinkle in her business suit. “Have not yet been found.”
Myleene went on in sombre tones, “It is getting worse out there. Avalanche in Colorado. Minor quake in San Francisco. Blackout last night in Vegas,” I saw her eyes narrow with worry. “A fire in the Louvre, with something uncatalogued stolen. Our contacts in law enforcement say the big dogs are starting to twitch.”
I hardly heard her. I was wondering if Ken ‘grrr’ Hamilton had also freed his hidden power. There had been no sign of any training yet. Kisami stood next to me, nodding along to Myleene’s words as if he understood what she was saying. Only problem was, he smiled in the wrong places.
At that moment I saw movement behind Myleene. Ashes fell into my mouth as Ceriden entered. His expression was grave, and he moved as if the weight of the world had been placed on his shoulders. The change in him was stunning. There was an instant silence, and all eyes fell on him.
The master Vampire cleared his voice. “I found out, only an hour ago, that…that-” Ceriden seemed to stagger. I saw Myleene reach forward to help, but Mai was already there, clutching his elbow. She had moved so fast I hadn’t even seen a blur.
Ceriden shook her off. He raised stricken eyes to all of us. He said, “Tristran is dead.”
Ceriden’s voice grated through the room like a chime of doom, like the final thud of a guillotine, like falling buildings.
“Tristran has been murdered.”
24
LOS ANGELES, U.S.A.
The man called Loki motored through the balmy Californian night on the back of a big, silver Harley. This late, the roads of L.A. were relatively people-free, save for the few streets which catered for those en-vogue clubs, the kind that swallowed and regurgitated A-list celebrities and loser wannabes at an alarming rate.
Beyond Hollywood Boulevard, and then Sunset Boulevard, he began to climb into the Hollywood hills. The Harley’s heavy roar echoed back off the canyons, a sound of thunder and madness that soothed him.
He arrived at Matt Black’s house and climbed off the Harley. The big bike ticked in the darkness, a beast worthy of its rider. Almost on sight it had become Vice Number Three. Loki knew he was changing. America offered vice and virtue in abundance, and sometimes one disguised itself as the other. But he had the experience and intelligence to realise that change, for good or bad, was inevitable. And necessary.
Turning his attention to the house Loki wondered if he was too late. Lights blazed out of every window. Maybe the Aegis guy had gotten here first.
His expression turned hard. This one mattered. With Tristran dead the vampires were in chaos. If he, Loki, Commander of Gorgoroth’s armies, could strike a telling blow against the humans too, the glory heaped upon him would be limitless.
His recalled Tristran’s death with twisted satisfaction. How he and the whore, Emily Crowe, had fought and murdered all who opposed them with skill and glee and unfettered bloodlust. How they had come upon Tristran and then watched the ages-old, almost-dead Vampire King try to relive his glory days. To be honest the old, dead bastard had done okay, felling Crowe and even catching Loki with a surprising burst of speed, but then Loki had switched into top gear and Crowe had conjured an image of the sun. Tristran, confused, weak and outclassed, had collapsed screaming upon his expensive, Italian-marble floor. Loki now grinned in the dark as he remembered Crowe taking out a syringe and injecting the vampire with a drug called Bram, the vampire-race’s own carefully-concocted drug of choice. A mix of caffeine, adrenalin, a herb called Crowsbane, and Absinthe, it was designed for mixing with blood. When ingested at the same time as blood it induced a heady stupor. Crowe had filled Tristran with the stuff and they had watched him start to float, then Loki and Crowe had fallen on top of him, writhing, twisting, and quickly becoming naked in a lustful mix of ecstasy and viol
ence. A short time later Tristran was dead and Loki was indulging himself in Vice Number One with Crowe beside the vampire’s broken body. Ah, the perks of leadership.
Now Loki kept himself to the shadows as the automatic gate that fronted Matt Black’s mansion began to open. At the same time the garage doors began to rise. Loki slipped deeper into shadow as a black Hummer shot down the driveway and out through the gates.
In another second Loki was back on the Harley, twisting the throttle in pursuit, pleased with the bikes instant turn of speed. The Hummer flew ahead, its own engine roaring as its driver spotted the tail.
The roar of the two powerful beasts, like dinosaurs battling through ancient, benighted canyons, shattered the vast silence that normally settled here after midnight. Loki spotted a coyote running scared by the side of the road. Its eyes gleamed, connected with his, and then immediately disappeared. With a turn of speed he came up alongside the Hummer, cocked his Glock, and shot out the passenger side tyres.
The Hummer swerved and skidded wildly, turning back on itself in a slew of spitting gravel, coming to a shocking sudden stop. Instantly, three doors opened. Loki leapt off the still moving Harley, rolled, and came up with his Glock pointing forward.
He recognized his quarry, Matt Black, one of the Eight, instantly. A black-suited guy with a machine pistol was covering him. Probably the guy from Aegis. Then, surprisingly, a third person emerged from the other side of the Hummer. Loki couldn’t get a good view of him but- the height?..the bearing..?
Loki had never experienced shock before. Thus, the adrenalin that surged through him turned his blood to fire. From the age of six he had known nothing but violence and combat. As a child he had been indoctrinated in battle, in bloodshed, in the hell of warfare- a modern Spartan warrior. Now, as he recognized the elven king, Eldritch, he saw one of the only beings alive who might be his equal in hand-to-hand combat. He didn’t want to kill Eldritch like this though. Not with a gun. The Aegis guy was clever, enlisting the help of the elf king.
Chosen (The Chosen Few Trilogy #1) Page 9
