Prey till the End (The Endangered Series Book 3)

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Prey till the End (The Endangered Series Book 3) Page 7

by S. L. Eaves


  Jackpot.

  Murmurs and banging erupts below me as I reach for the buttons. I was right about not being alone in here. Crossing to the edge of the platform, a disturbing site greets me when I look down.

  Well at least I’ve found the right room.

  A rush of relief and terror hits me. Relief to have found them alive - or well, still corporal as it were - and at the same time I'm realizing this is where the Purebloods are holding them captive.

  I retreat to the panel by the doors, thinking one of these buttons has to release them. But a closer look reveals why my actions are being met with panicked cries of protest. The letters above the buttons read: “UV.”

  My turn to panic. With one swift motion I slide the Glock from my back and shoot blindly at the ceiling panels. Glass shatters as the UV lights explode and rain down on the inhabitants below. I jump off the platform and descend into the room, pieces of UV tubes crunch under my feet as I focus my aim on the blue panels. Looking around for more doors, expecting company, I'm somewhat disappointed when no Purebloods storm in to stop my little siege.

  The wall behind me houses another switchboard. There are no big letters on this one and it looks much older, so I flip the switches in hopes one of them unlocks the cases. The orange lights along the wall blink on, industrial lights like the type you’d see strung up in a construction site; not blue, not emitting UV rays. I lower my gun when I realize they're harmless and switch off the night vision lenses.

  There really is no preparing someone for what the room holds. The outlines were far from the type of boxes you'd find in a typical warehouse. Rows of tall, upright glass coffins extend the length of the room. Easily a hundred of them. But only a few are occupied and I recognize their contents. There three members of my former clan stands, sealed airtight, hands pressed against the glass, like trophies on display.

  These are the Pureblood’s holding cells. At least when Brixton held me captive she gave me a proper cell.

  I don’t have time to for a formal reunion. Or to be shocked by this death row for vampires. Vega had to know this was here. It's why he encouraged me to wear this suit. There’s a door crawling to a close at the far end of the room. I grab a pair of P90s from the duffle bag before sliding it into the center of the room as I tear through the warehouse, shooting at the tops of the coffins, hoping the glass isn’t bullet proof. It’s not.

  Coffins shatter and glass explodes around the room as I sprint through, fingers squeezing the triggers until I’m out of ammo. When I reach the doorway, I toss the guns and spare a second to look over my shoulder. Crina, Xan and Rex are wiping glass off their clothes. They're fine. For now.

  The door seals shut behind me as I narrowly cross the threshold. I tear through the catacombs in search of the green lights. Either they didn't want me to make it this far or they intentionally eased the door shut so only I'd have enough time to escape. The others are free from their glass prisons and armed. That's the best I can do for now.

  Turning the corner, I spot what I'm looking for. The door below it is open, inviting me or daring me depending on one’s interpretation. Stepping through the doorway, I reach another ledge and leap off it, landing dramatically in the center of a hexagon shaped room. Faint lights reflect off the white marble columns, statues and expensive looking oil paintings line the walls. There's a heavy ceremonial vibe to the room; ritual sacrifices immediately come to mind which only adds to my unease.

  Crouching down defensively, my hand grips the handle of Catch’s sword. Red dots pepper my suit. Lasers. Presumably affixed to rifles. Or crossbows. My grip on the sword slackens and I stand slowly, unzipping the hooded mask so that it falls loosely around my neck. It’s too damn hot in that thing anyways.

  “I'm not your enemy.”

  A figure materializes across from me. He appears almost human in demeanor, a silver ghost standing next to a statue of a matching hue.

  “Who do you think you are, storming in here, desecrating sacred ground?”

  His voice bounces around the room as though he's throwing it intentionally. I look to see if there are more of them; there aren't.

  “You know I can see you right?” I ask, looking directly at him, “You can drop the act, this isn’t Oz.”

  The silver shimmering stops as the ghost solidifies to reveal a hooded figure. He steps forward.

  “Who are you? Why do you have Adrian's sword?”

  He removes his hood to reveal a hairless, porcelain skull and jet black eyes. He looks more like Adrian than Vega; a lot like Adrian in fact, they could be twins. Maybe they were.

  This time the voice is coming from its source.

  “Name's Lori. I got your calling card – the coordinates you left in England. I came to free the vampires you captured.”

  “You are the clairvoyant, descendant of Adrian.”

  Oh man seriously, they need to stop with this folklore nonsense.

  “I've been called that. But I wouldn't call it accurate. The Adrian part is though, I think. Catch turned me.”

  “And you came alone?”

  “Vega brought me here. No disrespect, but don't you know all this already? Isn't this exactly what you wanted?”

  “Is that what you think? We designed all this to trap you?” He eyes me curiously.

  “Well no, not exactly, I'm sure it's just a part of a larger plan. I just, well, what would you think in my shoes? A Pureblood led me here, laid all the breadcrumbs right up to your front door. But before you ask, no, I have no idea why. I've been trying to stay off everyone's radars. I really don't want trouble.”

  “You claim no responsibility for the attacks overseas?”

  I shake my head slowly. “Not me. Certainly not the vampires you have in the holding cell up there either.”

  He studies me. We stare one another down for a long minute.

  “We'll be the judge of that.”

  “Right well, your kind is a walking polygraph machine right? You can tell I'm being sincere.”

  I'm met with more awkward silence. His eyes stare right through me.

  “Can I ask - why didn't you come after Marcus for the fire at the covenant and well...I dunno everything else?”

  It's a question that I thought hard about on the flight over. And at this point I'm itching to break the tension.

  “Because Marcus was doing our bidding. He wanted to become a Pureblood. An impossible request, but he was a loyal servant and we offered him a great deal of power in return.”

  “The fire was your doing? But why?”

  “The same reason we're taking action against vampires now. To keep the population under control. The circumstances are different, but the objective remains the same. Your creation has served us well. You protect us, you are the first line of defense against humans, wolves, demons and other species that pose a threat.

  “Marcus had our blessing. Vega even gave him his mansion. He was to form a clan with the survivors and unite them under the goal of serving us, bending to our will as it were. His business with Striden was a ruse, part of a ‘keep your enemies close strategy’ that we supported. It weeded out treacherous rouge vampires and his team, yourself included, succeed in stopping the wolves. We felt it played out very well for our purposes.”

  He gives me a moment to digest this revelation before adding, “We didn't count on you learning about Marcus, that was unexpected. Adrian threw us a curveball bringing a clairvoyant into the mix. But ultimately that played out to our advantage as well. We'd long since tired of him and his arrogance.”

  My mind is racing, so I force myself to focus on the matter at hand.

  “Then you know the ones you captured are from his clan. You know they're not your enemy here. They’ve been nothing but respectful to your kind, to your order, for decades now, maybe longer.”

  “They are not here to be destroyed. Yet.”

  You could've fooled me.

  “What do you want with them? Us? Is there any way we can walk out of here?”r />
  I can’t read him. He stares into me as if he’s reading my mind and looking through me at the same time. I have never felt so exposed and vulnerable. After a long, awkward silence, he finally speaks.

  “We are trying to flush out the vampires responsible for the events overseas. We are trying to fix a problem we created. The council’s vote was unanimous. The first generation of vampires – the ones we bore – have all but died out. The rest are poor representatives of what we set out to create. Humanity taints our species with every generation turned, the more that humanity bleeds into our breed, the more we are weakened. You are an abomination of our species.” He laughs. “I mean look at you – you came here to save your friends. Friends,” he scoffs, “It's so predictable. It makes you weak, vulnerable. It’s a disgrace.”

  Friends is kind of a stretch, I mean two of them actively hunted me down with intentions of dusting me at one point. One has worked out some serious anger issues on me on more than one occasion. Most probably harbor some resentment towards me for disappearing. It's fair to say they all consider me reckless and naive. I doubt any of them trust me. With the feuding and the dynamics of our relationships constantly changing, perhaps family would be a more accurate analogy. When I was with their clan it certainly felt more like a family. And while I wouldn’t know from my human life, one thing I’ve come to realize is that when it comes to family, you're there for each other when it counts. That being said, I'm not about to argue semantics with a Pureblood.

  “Well you succeeded in flushing me out. And I may be a disgrace for what you perceive as weakness, but I'm not the one responsible for the string of attacks. So where do we go from here? What do you want in exchange for the vampires you’ve captured?”

  “I want to know what you've seen.”

  Perplexed, “Seen?”

  “What visions you've had of the future. Tell me everything exactly as you've seen it.”

  I shake my head in protest, “Nothing. I haven’t seen anything that would give insight into who is responsible for the uprising.”

  “The world is about to see a change and it won’t bode well for us. It needs to be dealt with swiftly and efficiently.”

  “Then give us a chance to make things right.” I gesture at the door over my shoulder. “They’ve earned that much.”

  He approaches me. I freeze, genuinely afraid to move.

  “The option is being considered. First we need to know you're telling the truth. We need to see what you've seen.”

  At that I step back.

  “Kneel,” he commands.

  “It's not the 1500s anymore, kneeling isn't really—”

  There's a white flash of motion at my feet as a force strikes my legs. It drops me to my knees instantly. Before I can recover the Pureblood places his hand on my forehead. He's telling me to remain still without actually saying anything. A stinging sensation starts at my throat then sharp pain radiates through my body followed by a high pitched ringing. It's disorienting. I bring my hands to my ears. It doesn't help. The ringing feels like it's coming from within. My hands feel warm. When I lower them blood drips from my fingers.

  My vision has blurred. It's like my body wants to pass out, but can't. I'm in this state of paralysis. He presses his arm into my mouth. My fangs are already out and they cut through flesh as it brushes against my face. I drink. It's the only thing I can do.

  Seconds later the ringing stops and my vision clears. I'm still on my knees and the nameless Pureblood is standing where he'd been a moment earlier as if nothing happened. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I shake my head clear. When I reach for my neck the wound is healing. I attempt to regain my composure, but my legs are too weak and I have to press my hands against the floor to keep from collapsing.

  What just happened?

  “We've exchanged blood,” he answers before I can voice the question. “I've seen everything now. I know you are telling the truth and I know I can trust you. We know we can trust you.”

  Wait. Everything?

  “And now you have what Marcus had, unfettered access to our power. Our blood will give you strength to carry out our wishes.”

  “But I – I don't want your power. I don't want to be your next Marcus. I just want you to stop dusting vampires.”

  “Well we want you to start. Take out the traitors, take out anyone and everyone who poses a threat to us. All you and your allies need to do to survive this is remain loyal by carrying out our commands.”

  There's a muffled commotion on the other side of the wall.

  “We will all stand to benefit from the elimination of the traitors. Good luck see'er, we'll be in touch.”

  The Pureblood gives an indiscernible nod then vanishes. The whole encounter feels like an illusion. Minus the new sensation pulsing through my system. That feels very real.

  What have I gotten myself into?

  The door above me slides open. Familiar faces race in brandishing the weapons and tactical gear I’d brought. After a moment of scanning the room, they look down at me somewhat bewildered expressions on their faces.

  “Hi guys,” I offer a lame smile as I attempt once again to stand. “Show’s over.”

  “Lori!” Rex jumps down from the ledge and helps me to my feet. He's a big guy and I sink into his arms as he scoops me up.

  “Good to see you,” I whisper in his ear.

  “Somehow I knew you'd come.” He wipes away the blood on my hood. “You're bleeding. What happened?”

  “I think I just negotiated our release.” My voice is as unsteady as my footing.

  Xan drops the duffle bag at my feet. “Good to see ya, stranger. You certainly know how to make an entrance.” Grinning at my choice in attire, “Nice suit.”

  “How did you find us?” Crina is all business, circling the room searching for means of egress.

  “Purebloods left a note. I'm happy to explain everything, but I'd like to get out of here first. We don't have long before daylight.”

  As if on cue, the wall behind me begins rumbling. We all turn to watch as a door slowly eases open.

  Rex looks from the door to me, “They’re letting us go? Just like that?”

  The best I can offer is a hazy nod.

  “Works for me.” Xan starts down the blue-lit hallway.

  We proceed after him and moments later we’re standing on a cliff overlooking the mountainside.

  “Man it’s good to be free from that place,” Xan says, smiling.

  We're on a different side of the mountain than I'd entered from, but I can hear the faint sound of helicopter blades.

  “Chopper's circling, we need to flag it down,” I point in the direction of the humming. Rex assists me as walking continues to be a struggle.

  When we reach a clearing, Xan pulls a flare gun from the duffle bag and fires it into the night sky. Minutes later the helicopter is hovering above us and we ascend the ladder to board. I open the cooler full of blood bags and begin distributing them.

  “You guys alright?”

  “Better now.” Rex bites into a bag. “I am kinda disappointed we didn’t get to fight anyone,” looking over his shoulder at the cavern entrance. “I feel like punching something after all that time cooped up in that glass cage.”

  “I have a feeling you’ll have plenty of opportunities,” Crina shoots me a sideways glance. “You’re going to have to tell us more about the deal you made to get us out of here.”

  When we board the helicopter I glance around for Vega, but there’s no sign of him. Our human pilot turns from his seat. “Is that everyone?”

  “Where's Vega? The man I came here with?” I ask, not sure what name Vega uses with humans under his employ.

  “He left. Said to take you guys back to England. I guess he made other arrangements. Is the mansion still your destination?”

  I nod slowly, but can't help but wonder why Vega didn't stick around.

  “Yes. Please. And as quickly as you can.”

  ***

 
I spend most of the ride back to England sitting in the back with my eyes closed hoping no one will bother me. The encounter took a lot of my energy and I’m not in the mood to field a zillion questions. They get the hint. It is a quiet ride, I doubt more than two words are spoken the whole time.

  The helicopter lands on the roof of the mansion, waits patiently as we disembark then takes off without a word from the pilot. Vega certainly knows how to hire them, I’ll give him credit for that much at least. While I have a good idea why he made himself scarce, I wish I knew where he’d disappeared to.

  We stand in the foyer consumed by an ominous, eerie stillness; none of us wanting to be the first to point out the obvious. Finally Xan breaks the silence.

  “It’ll be strange not having Jiro here. Wish I knew why they killed him.”

  “Vega suspected it was his handicap, made him expendable. Or maybe it was the complete opposite and he was their biggest threat because of the security measures he’d installed on the grounds. They had to get through him to get to the rest of you…”

  It’s the first I’ve spoken since we left Romania and I realize as I try to offer some explanation that I’d just opened a door I can’t close. I sigh, wishing I had cigarettes on me, waiting for the inevitable.

  “Vega was here?” Rex asks. Doesn’t take long.

  “Yeah, he found me, brought me back here. He led me to you.”

  “That explains a lot,” Crina looks disappointed.

  “Does it?” I’m sincerely asking, “Because I couldn’t be more confused right now.”

  “It doesn’t mean he was behind this.” Rex, who was part of Vega’s clan for a while, quickly jumps to his defense.

  He turns from Crina to me. “Back me up here, Lori?”

  “I don’t know if we can trust him, but I don’t believe he wanted any of you harmed. He orchestrated your release by taking me there. I’m just not sure what his part is in all this. I came back for…” Not a good time to mention Striden. “I came back…to help. Vega showed up at my door. He said you guys were in trouble, so here I am.”

  Crina stretches. “Alright then, well I’m going to get to work cleaning this place up after a shower and a few pints of blood.” Turning to me, she says, “When you're feeling up to it, let's reconvene.”

 

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