by Sean Stone
“No!” Victor said back in frustration. “I did look for you. I searched this whole town for you.”
“Then why didn’t you find me?”
“I did. Once. You were being held at one of Langford’s properties. I took a whole team to rescue you but they were prepared. Almost the entire team was killed trying to rescue you and when I went back with backup you’d been moved.” Victor had been lucky to escape the incident alive and he’d still gone back to try again.
“So, what? You just gave up?”
“No. I kept looking. I think I came close again, once. James Tenson turned up to warn me off. He said that if I didn’t stop breaking the rules then you’d be executed. I didn’t want to risk it.”
“You should’ve risked it.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“Well, you did a fucking poor job.”
Just then there came a knock at the door and Charles’ head appeared through the crack. Victor sighed angrily and fell back in his chair.
“There are a couple of vampires in the club, they’d like to talk to you,” he said meekly, his little weasel face twisted into one of perpetual nervousness.
“About what?” Richie snapped, he didn’t even look at Charles.
“The events. The deaths. They say they won’t go until they’ve seen you,” Charles said. He still hadn’t entered the room, he was obviously scared of some kind of rebuke.
“I’ll see them,” Victor said, rising.
“No, I’m the high elder, I’ll do it,” Richie said. “You may accompany me,” he added in a mocking tone.
“As you wish,” Victor said. He downed the rest of his blood and then followed Richie from the room. As they made their way to the club upstairs Victor ushered Charles away, he felt that being seen with the snivelling excuse for an elder was damaging to his reputation, it would be better if they addressed matters without him. Charles, ever the coward, was more than happy to comply and disappeared at once. Any hint of confrontation made the feeble man scarper.
“A couple of vampires,” Richie said under his breath when they emerged in the club and saw at least ten vampires waiting for an audience. Not a single one of them looked happy. Victor scanned the group but didn’t recognise any of them.
Richie, never one to be intimidated, strode right up to them, forcing them to take several steps back. Victor remained at his side.
“Problem?” Richie demanded and looked questioningly at the group. None of them seemed to want to speak, they all looked around nervously at one another. “You demanded to see me so unless you want to exit via the sewers I suggest you tell me why,” Richie growled.
“We want the killing to stop,” one of them blurted out. A tall chubby one at the back of the group.
“So you do have a tongue,” Richie said. Richie beckoned him forward and asked, “What is your name?”
“Owen,” he replied. He was fiddling with the zipper on his jacket.
“How do you suppose we stop the killing?” Richie asked with mock intrigue.
“Well he said he just wants you to go to the castle,” Owen said and shrugged.
“And you think I should do it?” Richie said.
“It would stop the killings,” Owen said and as he fumbled with his zipper he shifted his jacket accidentally and Victor glimpsed a crowbar tucked into his belt. A shuffling behind them made him turn around and he saw several more vampires had been hiding at the other end of the club and were now moving in, surrounding them. They shouldn’t have come up alone. The manor was filled with guards whom they could have brought along. Victor considered calling to them, but it was unlikely that they would hear and it would make Richie and himself look cowardly. It was too late now.
“What it is this?” Victor demanded as they approached. Richie wheeled round and saw them too.
“Oh, I see. If I don’t hand myself over you’ll do it instead, right?” Richie asked.
“Pretty much,” Owen replied, he had a braver face on now that his back up had crawled out of the shadows.
There were about twenty to thirty vampires now and they were pulling out weapons; crowbars, knives, golf clubs, one of them even had a sledgehammer.
“You realise that each and every one of you is a traitor to the clan?” Victor said quietly, preparing himself for a fight, it had been a long time since he’d had a good one, over a hundred years.
“He’s the traitor, not us,” a woman said from within the crowd. “He’s letting us die to save himself.”
“You don’t have to get involved in this Victor. It’s him we want,” Owen said, nodding at Richie.
Victor didn’t even consider his words, there was no way he was ever going to abandon Richie to these traitors, no matter what argument they came up with. His loyalty was to his friend and sire above all else.
“Perhaps this will restore your faith in me?” he said to Richie in a whisper.
“Only one way to find out. It’ll be just like old times,” Richie said and grinned. Victor hadn’t seen him smile like that since long before he’d been kidnapped, it was a reminder of the man Richie had been before they’d settled in Cedarstone, back when they’d roamed the country, having fun where they pleased.
“Old times indeed,” Victor replied, although personally he did not like their odds. Richie gave him the nod and then they pounced into the hordes of treacherous vampires.
Victor smashed full pelt into one and sent him flying into the far wall where the brick and plaster cracked leaving him in a pile of dust. He turned to meet the lumbering hulk advancing on him from behind. He took hold of his throat with his left hand and tore a portion of his neck straight off, dropping it to the floor. Before the body dropped two more vampires were on Victor. The one on his right swung with a golf club, Victor ducked and the club took the head clean off of the vampire to his left. Victor then snatched the club and jammed it into the wielders face, puncturing the skull with a loud crack. Victor didn’t see what hit him next; he felt heavy pain on the side of his head and then in his stomach and the next thing he knew he was flying through one of the seating booths, shattering it on his way. He saw two vampires approaching and despite being disorientated he forced himself to his feet whipping up two splinters of wood on the way. He darted forwards and forced the stakes into the chests of the two advancing vampires. A head flew past him from the left and he spared a glance to see Richie decapitating a couple of attackers, clearly relishing in the sport. All that blood was serving a purpose after all. Victor enjoyed the fight but took no pleasure in destroying members of his own clan, no matter how treacherous they were.
The sledgehammer came swinging through the air at him and he ducked narrowly avoiding it. It swung again and he leapt out of the way. He rolled forward and snapped the legs of the woman swinging it, they crunched disgustingly and the hammer dropped, cracking the floor as it did. He grabbed her head and smashed it repeatedly into the tiles, utterly pulverising her face. Blood and bone splattered everywhere. One of the vampires Richie was fighting came careening across the room and tore a pillar in two as he went by. Victor made to go and assist Richie who had the lion’s share of the attackers, but before he had taken even a step there was great splintering crack from above and a portion of the ceiling cascaded down upon him. He sheltered his head as the impact hit. His entire body took the blow and pain radiated throughout, his breath left him in one massive whoosh. The majority if his body healed fast and most of the pain faded but a burning agony remained in his legs. He shook his head to shift some of the dust and glanced back to see his legs trapped under a massive pile of rubble, judging from the pain something wooden had pierced them, nothing else could cause such agony. He tried to reach the rubble to free himself but he couldn’t get down there. He was stuck.
“Careful, we need to hand him over alive,” Owen growled and Victor turned back to the fighting. Richie had disappeared among the overwhelming crowd of vampires. He could still hear his friend grunting, but the jeers of the t
raitors let Victor know that the fight was lost. As the vampires shifted he saw Richie being held down on his knees by six vampires, another six stood around them, one of them was Owen. “Alright, knock him out and let’s get him to the castle. These are the last vampires that’ll die for you, Richie.”
One of the others picked up a crowbar and raised it above his head, but then he faltered. He’d looked into Richie’s eyes and saw what Victor was seeing. The whites of Richie’s eyes had vanished and been replaced entirely by red, his pupils diminished to pinpricks. The veins on his face showed up purple through the skin, all that blood he’d been gorging on was working overtime to power him. He drew his lips back in a snarl revealing huge white fangs and a deep growl rose from his throat. The vampire dropped the crowbar and took a step back. Richie shot up to his feet throwing the vampires who had been holding him in several directions. Richie grabbed the nearest and smashed his head into the wall, sending it through the brick, he then dragged it along, obliterating both brick and bone along the way. He then grabbed hold of the next opponent by the hair and arched her over backwards until her spine snapped in two, she screamed in unbridled agony and fell down paralysed. Two more vampires lost their heads without Richie even looking at them. Four vampires pounced at once and Richie moved too fast even for Victor to keep up, all he saw was blood and body parts flying about. By the time the next ran at Richie he had picked up a knife and as they reach him he sliced them for navel to chin, their innards spilling out all over the floor. The next vampire ran but slipped in the bloody mess and Richie stamped his head into mush. Owen dropped to his knees, hands in the air and yelled: “Mercy!”
Richie stopped. The few remaining vampires followed suit and sunk to their knees.
“Mercy?” Richie asked, a smile on his blood-spattered face. He took Owen by the hands and in one swift movement ripped his arms right out of their sockets. Blood ran from his shoulders onto the floor and Owen stared up at Richie with dumbfounded horror. The Richie smashed Owen’s own arms into his face repeatedly until the man was unrecognisable and quite dead. “Sorry, all out of mercy,” Richie panted and dropped the arms to the floor. Victor had forgotten quite how brutal Richie could be. If he could fight like that when the Aramayas came for him then maybe they did stand a chance after all.
“Victor, you seem to be in a spot of bother,” Richie said before lifting the rubble and removing the splintered wood from his legs.
Victor took Richie’s hand and let him help him to his feet. “Nicely done,” Victor congratulated.
“Someone had to do something whilst you sat there and watched,” Richie said. Victor looked at him and saw with relief that he was joking. He offered a small laugh.
“I would have been doing something if you hadn’t taken out a supporting pillar,” Victor replied.
“Meh, excuses,” Richie said.
“What about this lot?” Victor nodded toward the remaining seven vampires, still on their knees around the chaotic remains of the nightclub.
“What would you suggest?” Richie asked. It was the first time he’d asked Victor for a suggestion in a long while. Victor fighting by his side had thankfully restored some of Richie’s faith in him. Victor thought they still needed to resolve matter properly, but it could wait. They had other matters to deal with.
“Either kill them or exile them. They can’t stay in town no matter what,” Victor advised. A leader who forgave treason wasn’t a leader for very long. A minute later seven more corpses lined the floor of Morgan’s night club.
They were just turning back to the manor when there was a noise behind them. They both turned, expecting more attackers, and found a woman, white skin, dark hair and something strikingly familiar in her facial features - the snakelike nose in particular.
“Hello Lydia,” Richie said, answering the question on Victor’s mind. The second Aramaya had arrived. “I take it you put them up to this then?”
“I just wanted to see how well you could handle yourself. Don’t worry I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you. You certainly didn’t disappoint,” she said. Unlike Ramsay there was no venom in her attitude, no anger or threats, she seemed more like an old friend and Victor supposed she was. Richie had been part of their cult long before he’d found Victor.
“Do you have a message, or…” said Richie, and there was definitely a fondness in the way he spoke.
“No. Just letting you know I’m in town. I won’t be at the castle, though, not yet. I’ll be staying somewhere more comfortable until the rest of my family arrive. So for now, it’s just Ramsay up there, all alone,” she said and then she gave them both a cheeky wave and sped out through the door.
“So, now what?” Victor asked, hoping that Richie had at least the beginnings of a plan.
“Didn’t you hear her? Ramsay’s all alone at the castle, she just told us it was the ideal time to attack,” Richie said excitedly.
“I did hear that however it sounded more like bait to me,” Victor replied. The last thing he wanted was to walk into a trap set by the Aramaya family.
“Oh no,” Richie shook his head. “You don’t know Lydia. She hates Ramsay more than anyone, she was telling us to attack now, before the others arrive.”
*
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“So, we’re in the clear?” said William, wanting to clarify what Bradley had told him. Bradley had met with the director of MI5 yesterday. He’d just finished filling William in on what had occurred.
“Not exactly,” Bradley replied. He leaned forward and loosened his tie. “They haven’t found cause to send their own team to town, but they do want us to tighten the place up a bit.”
“Tighten it up?”
“They want us to have more control, it needs to look like we’re doing more to keep things how they should be,” Bradley explained. “How they should be in their eyes, not necessarily mine,” he quickly added. “I still stand by everything I said before. The supernatural is your domain, I want as little to do with it as possible.”
“So they want things the way they were when Jonathan was in charge?” William asked. He was certainly not going to get on board with that no matter what MI5 threatened. He’d worked too hard and risked too much to remove Jonathan from power, he wasn’t about to replicate his regime.
“No, no — well, yes and no — they don’t want us to curse anyone or torture them, they just want to have peace of mind that if anything threatens the equilibrium, we are able to deal with it before it gets out of control.”
“But we aren’t,” William said simply. Things were out of control already, they didn’t have any way of controlling anything; they were outnumbered and out-powered by everyone.
“I know that, but I managed to convince them otherwise. However, they did still have a couple of changes they want to be made,” Bradley said and loosened his tie some more.
“What changes do they want?” William had never believed that the council would ever fully step back from things, there was too much at stake.
“They want your team to have a stronger presence in town. They want it to be bigger and bolder. More forceful.” William went to argue but Bradley held up a hand to stop him. “It’s something they won’t budge on. If your team doesn’t become what they want, then they’ll send a team of their own.”
“It looks like I don’t have a choice then,” William grumbled. “Exactly what changes do I need to make?”
“You need a larger team. You need to have enough staff to be able to hold your own against one of the factions, should the need arise.”
“Where am I to get the extra staff from?” William interrupted, he didn’t exactly have a list of applicants to choose from, nobody else on the force knew about the supernatural.
“I offered to arrange-”
“I’m not taking on a band of mercenaries,” William snapped before Bradley could suggest it. Jonathan and Eloise had already hired an agency to protect them and those that hadn’t ended up dead had left the t
own pretty sharpish.
“Then you’ll need to figure out your own way of recruiting people. One way or another you need to do it and soon,” Bradley said.
“What does the chief have to say about all this?”
“It doesn’t matter, you no longer answer to the chief constable. Your team will work outside of the police now in the same way that MI5 does. I’ll relocate you to your own premises once I’ve found a suitable location. You now answer directly to me.” William didn’t mind that change. Having their own premises would mean less sneaking around.
“Did they mention Jeremy Devlin or the weapons?” William asked. He needed to know if they were trying to get to the weapons and whether or not Jeremy had made it back to his bosses in London.
“No, nothing about that. I did ask but they denied knowing who Devlin is. I’d expected no other reaction if I’m honest. They wouldn’t be a very good security service if they acknowledged the identities of their agents.” Bradley said.
“I’m concerned that there are more agents in town,” William said. It was something he’d been thinking about ever since learning the truth about Devlin. “It seems odd for MI5 to only infiltrate the vampires. They could have put spies into every faction in town for all we know.”
“And what are you going to do about it?”
“What can I do about it? I’ll keep my ears open, but that’s all I can do. My priority is recovering the weapons from the research labs.”
“How is that going?” Bradley picked up his drink and took a large gulp.
“We’ve searched Winters Labs top to bottom and found nothing, if there are any weapons inside then they’re invisible. I suspect that they’re in one of the other Winter’s Labs facilities now,” said William. He was of the mind that the weapons had already been moved before Clara had managed to acquire the majority holding. They could now be in any one of the other Winters facilities in the country.
“Can you get access to the other labs to search them as well?” asked Bradley.
