Empire of Blood (Book 2): Fading In Darkness

by Wilson, Robert S.

  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 hav
e 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 plan 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?"

  Every muscle in Hank's body had stiffened as his throat went dry and his vision became blurry. This monster had been watching Toby, maybe worse. Hank nodded, trying to keep the hatred from showing on his face.

  "You don't have to hide your anger with me, eh, Hank. I can smell it. It comes off of you like the sweat on a man's brow." That devilish smile had returned. "Besides, it's no bloody fun to threaten a chap who doesn't react accordingly, eh?" He laughed and pushed Hank's shoulder as if they were old friends and he'd just told a funny joke. Hank didn't change his expression. After a moment, Draper's smile melted into a sneer of anger.

  "Whatever you choose, mate. I don't have to see it to know you want nothing more than to stab my bloody eyes out right here in this parking lot. That's satisfaction enough for me." He walked past Hank back toward the church. "Goodnight, Mr. Evans. Enjoy your first day—I mean night—on the job tomorrow," he said and laughed without turning around. Hank stood there a long time trying to hold back his temper and the urge to run after the man and show him just how strong he really was. Instead, he took a deep breath, turned, and walked back to the blue Empire-assigned Buick sitting in the middle of the now empty parking lot.

  All the lights were on in the house again when Hank came in through the front door. Toby's door was shut, and loud but muffled music came from the room as if it were playing under water.

  Hank set his keys and cell phone down on the end table as he walked by and headed for Toby's door. He knocked once and waited, but the boy didn't answer. From almost the moment they moved into the house, Toby had been spending more and more hours in his room like this. Bass vibrated through the door at Hank. He knocked harder and louder.

  "Toby?"

  The music cut completely. The door flung open and Toby stood there staring at Hank as if his father had punched him in the face.

  "What?"

  "I just wanted to say hi before you have to go to bed and that I'll miss you while I'm gone. Dustin texted me earlier and he'll be waiting here when you get home from school."

  "Great. Have fun in Fuckropolis!"

  The door slammed in Hank's face. He was equally shocked and unable to keep from snickering at his son's remark. Yet, the sting in the boy's voice still crept under his skin and left a twinge of emotion beneath it all. He sighed and stared at the door a while longer before heading back to his own room. He had a lot of thinking to do before the sun came back up. Best to get started as soon as humanly possible. Not that his brain was that slow now. The blood had already made some fairly drastic changes to his body that didn't seem to go away even when he was late to keep up on his "daily dose."

  Still, he worried about the boy. He couldn't tell Dustin about Draper any more than he could tell him about the blood or his new assignment. He was about to start packing his clothes when the Emperor's voice spoke inside his ears for the first time.

  Chapter 5

  A Heavy Burden

  Ishan sat at the head of the table waiting for Simon to arrive. Internally, he could experience input from any of Simon's senses at will, but he'd been trying to give Simon his privacy as lately there seemed to be a lot of friction growing between the two of them. After 2000 years of various different life experiences, this linking of minds between he and Simon was far different than anything he'd ever been through before.

  Stanislov sat to Ishan's right, tapping his finger on the table as a warm breeze gently stirred the thick brown hair on his face. The lights of the city cast a light neon glow on the somewhat reflective surface of the table. Edgar cleared his throat from the other end of the table.

  "Should we carry on without him, Master?"

  "No, give him another moment. In the meantime go ahead and tell me about what the scouting party found."

  Edgar gave Ishan a nervous glance, looking as though he had just impossibly aged another decade.

  "Boris and Rachel's remains were found."

  Ishan tensed, unsurprised and yet shocked. Emotionally shocked.

  "Our analysis of the ashes were inconclusive as to whether they died before the sun rose, but there is very little trace evidence of blood, so it's at least conclusive there was some major blood loss. Just like the others."

  "Are you telling me they might have been drained?"

  Edgar sat in silence.

  A coldness passed over Ishan as the loss fully registered. Although he wasn't sure if she had kept loyal to him or not, he still couldn't hold back his feelings for Rachel. If it weren't for the Queen, things would have been different. But that was a thought best left behind. Especially now that he knew she was dead.

  Simon rushed through the glass door then. He walked to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down.

  "Sorry I'm late. What else did the scouting party find?" Ishan needed a moment to soak in Rachel's death and Simon knew it would be best to move on with important matters.

  "Very little. Trace evidence of Mr. Evans and his escort mostly," Edgar said, his throat tightening around that last word.

  "Mostly?" Ishan's voice whispered, his eyes glaring into Edgar’s.

  "Well, sir, we did find signs of a struggle."

  "What signs?" Simon asked as Ishan's jaw clenched.

  “Several dried pools of Mr. Evan's blood were found near Rachel's ashes. And no evidence of a third party." Edgar coughed to punctuate his sentence.

  Ishan stiffened and Simon knew it was time to move on to other things.

  "I think it's time to shift gears. There's the issue of this girl that keeps getting put off."

  Stanislov seemed to harden in his seat as his fist came
down to strike the table. His other hand came up with a large sausage-like finger pointing at Simon's face.

  "And just what have you contributed the past few council meetings to do anything about that?"

  Simon opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Ishan spoke up for him.

  "I'll be the first to admit disappointment in Simon's lack of participation, but Simon is doing something to keep this council meeting moving and I see that as a welcome change." At that Stanislov sat back in his seat, his body still tight as a drum. But he made no attempt to argue nonetheless.

  "Well, personally, I don't understand why you haven't already sent her on her way out into the desert, master. She's a useless child and an insufferable brat. She's managed to waste her time as a fledgling only groveling and whining. She has done little to attempt adjusting to the new life she's been given," Edgar said and sighed.

  Simon's face turned a sharp red.

  "The ancestors have made their choice. And whatever the Queen may have behind it, she must have a reason," Ishan said. "If the fledgling will not choose to do something with her life then the choice will be taken from her."

  "What do you suggest, master?"

  "Put her to work. A few weeks on the restoration team should give her a sense of discipline."

  Edgar smiled. "Indeed, sir. It would be my pleasure."

  Ishan was getting back into a rhythm now. "Isingoma's latest results have yielded no new breakthroughs. All 12 subjects died within minutes of ingesting the ancestor blood. Each one represented a different biological history, including samples from various regions, races, and blood types. All with the same result. Almost instant death. It is my opinion that we must do all we can in our power to peacefully encourage Mr. Evans to submit to some testing to help us single out what has made him so unique, what it is in his body that allowed him to survive. I refuse to believe he is the only human being who can survive let alone reap the rewards of drinking the blood."