by D. Levesque
“Mom, that is Melissa Newborn. THE Melissa Newborn. She is most likely surrounded by security. And if I kill her, folks will investigate!” I tell her.
“And that is why she needs to be killed. As an influencer in this world, she can bring too many to her cause and convert them.”
“Convert them?” Johanne asks her.
“Yes, as they infest each new person with the Void, it makes the Void much stronger here. So we need to kill as many of them as possible.
“But that’s Melissa Newborn! She writes amazing music and has like twenty charities going!” I tell her.
“Yes, but what everyone else doesn’t know is she also kills people. The Void feeds on pain,” she says.
“Brandon, you have to understand,” interjects Lina. “While us Vampires feed on the essence of someone, we never kill unless it’s required of us. We value life just as much as anyone else. These vile things don’t. They kill for pain and feed on the fear. She might look human, but she isn’t anymore,” Lina says vehemently.
Nodding at her slowly, I think about this. It’s true what she is saying. She has been teaching me the history of the Vampires. And while a Vampire can live on normal food, they still need to feast on someone’s essence at least once a year, or they die. That is what makes them live so long and gives them their power—that essence. Or, as she called it, their vitality. Not meaning they when they feed on someone, that person gets older faster. Their vitality is something they can recover over time. And most do fairly quickly, until they get older.
Sighing finally, I tell my mother, “Fine, what do we have on her that can get us closer?”
My mother puts her hand on my shoulder gently and says, “Brandon, it must be done. We cannot look at them as normal. They must be banished or what will come later is nothing compared to her.”
“I know. It’s just I need to wrap my head around it. But damn, Melissa Newborn? Are there others?” I ask her.
“Yes, but this is our first target. And before you ask, we have found over forty targets. We will be eliminating them one at a time. Or you will be. As we have discovered, our strongest cannot accomplish it. I have lost over ten of my best Werewolves to these monsters, Brandon. It. Must. Be. Done,” she says in clipped tones.
I look at my mother sharply. I have never seen her so angry at herself before. She blames herself for this. She blames herself for these deaths. I look at my mother in a new light. When growing up, I always thought of her as solid, grounded. Proud. But now, I see my mother worried, scared. Not for herself, but for others. Putting my hand over hers on my shoulder, I squeeze it slightly.
“You have me, mother. I will not let you down,” I tell her powerfully.
My mother doesn’t say anything, but only nods. She closes her eyes for a second or two before opening them again. With a last squeeze of my shoulder, she points to the picture of Melissa Newborn again.
“She needs to be taken out. Right now, she is our first target since she has too much influence with the younger people here on Earth. We got wind that she will be at her cottage here in New York this week, which works out better since next week we would have had to have flown all of you out to Florida, where she would be in her condo in downtown Miami. This cottage is a better target location,” she says.
Just then, Trent comes into the cabin carrying a large chest. My mother points to the floor near the sofa, and he drops it there heavily. Another lead chest? I wonder what’s in this one, but my thoughts are interrupted.
“Brandon, you and the girls will sneak into the cottage and eliminate her. She should only have a small guard, and they are, as far as we know, not converted by the Void yet.”
“Are any of them magic users?” Sylvana asks her.
“Yes, one of them is from the Organization. He is apparently a low end magic user though. The others are paramilitary type security. No magic, no augments. Though, Ms. Newborn will be the issue. She has been infected by the Void, so we have no clue what she can do. You need to go in carefully and with a plan. This is what we think would be best,” she starts.
And for the next half hour, we come up with and throw away ideas and thoughts of how to move forward. Finally, after we think we have everything ironed out, my mother turns to me.
“Daggers. Those daggers I had made for you are silver, so you won’t be able to use them when the girls are there because they are made mostly with silver. I asked to have the inside made with steel to strengthen them. Let’s step back, and you can look at them,” she says, waving everyone else to the other side of the room, away from the sofa and the chest on the floor.
Going to the chest, I kneel down in front of it. I look behind me to make sure no one snuck up behind me to peek over my shoulder, and with everyone as far as they can get from the chest, I slowly open it. Inside, I find a belt with holsters sitting on top of a black cloth. Instead of the holsters being used for guns, they’re for my daggers. Standing up, I put the belt on, and it fits perfectly. I look down and see the sheaths face so that the blades will stick forward a bit. Nodding, I bend down again to fold the cloth away, and I gasp.
The two blades sitting inside the chest are works of art. They are about a foot long each, and they are pure silver. I know my mother said the inside was made of steel, but you can’t tell. The handles are made of wood, and there is a wolf engraved on each side. But that doesn’t take away from the grip. The engravings actually help it to keep them tighter in my hands. The wood is a dark wood, and it’s almost warm to the touch.
Taking one out, I hear gasps from behind me. Lifting the other blade as well, I stand up and place one of them into one of the sheaths . Looking inside first, I see they are lined with metal. I look closer, and see that it’s a gray metal.
“Lead?” I ask my mother in shock.
“Yes, we aren’t sure they will work, though,” she says worriedly.
“Well, how can we test it out?” I ask her, placing the second dagger into the sheath.
“Hmm, any volunteers?” my mother asks.
“I will go,” Trent says nervously.
No one disagrees or volunteers themselves. I can see that everyone is nervous. Slowly, Trent walks towards me. His eyes aren’t on me, but on my daggers. As he gets closer, his breathing gets faster and faster. I guess the fear of silver is really bad with Werefolks. He is about two steps away from me when he stops.
He turns to my mother. “I can feel it somewhat, but it is not as bad.” Turning back to me, he takes a deep breath and says, “Very quickly, take one out about an inch and then place it back into the lead encased sheath, Brandon.”
“Are you sure?” I ask him. “We know it works.”
“Yes, but we must know how strong the silver in those daggers is,” he says.
“Very well, if you are sure.” I grip one of the daggers and slide it out about an inch before quickly slamming it back in. But even that was enough. Trent had fallen over onto his knees and was dry retching. I am about to go help him when he puts up his hand, stopping me.
“It’s all right. It’s fading away,” Trent says with a croak. “Glad I have not eaten yet today,” he says with a chuckle. Getting up slowly, he nods to me and turns back to my mother. “It works,” he says, and walks back to where everyone is standing. Once there, he gets pats on the back in sympathy.
“I have to ask, why do I have a silver blade? Are those infected with the Void hurt by it?” I ask my mother.
“Yes, while the host is not affected by it, in order to kill the essence of the Void, you must use silver,” she says.
“Good to know. Now the hard part will be walking around with these and no one being able to come near me if they are a Werewolf, Vampire, or Elf,” I tell her with a sigh.
“I can help there,” Roger says happily.
Looking over, I see that Roger had floated to a corner of the room to observe.
“Oh?” I ask him.
“I can store the blades for you, and no one will be affected by t
hem. Then when you need them, I can pass them to you quickly. You won’t even need that utility belt,” he finishes smugly.
“How would you go about doing that?” I ask him, curious where he intends to place the daggers. I mean, looking at him, he isn’t that large, and while I know he has shrunk some, he isn’t that big even when he is his regular size.
“Trust me,” he says. “Take a dagger out and point it at me.”
“What?” I ask him, confused.
“Take the sharp stabby stabby and point it at the flying ball in front of you,” he says in a singsong voice. I hear titters from those standing against the wall.
Making sure everyone is still standing far away from me, I take one of the daggers out and I point it at Roger, as he had instructed. He zips forward and stops at the point of the dagger. Suddenly, there is a distortion on the surface of his ball. He moves forward slowly, and the blade slowly enters the distortion and disappears, inch by slow inch. Once the whole blade is in, the handle is next, and it too disappears into the distortion. Once it’s close to the end I remove my hand, and it goes in by itself.
“How the fuck did you do that!” I ask him, shocked.
“Dimensional storage,” he says smugly.
“All right. That’s good and all, but if I need it and it’s going to come out that slow, I’ll either die or not need it anymore.”
“Oh no, that was for dramatic effect,” he says with a laugh.
I hear laughter near the wall, and I can tell it’s the girls. “How fast is fast?”
“Throw the blade at me,” he says, backing up. “Don’t worry if your throw is shit. I will still catch it.”
Taking the second dagger, I throw it at him as fast as I can, and hard since he is really annoying me now. I expect the blade to pass by him and get stuck into the log wall somewhere, but I am stunned. He zips faster than I thought he could, and the blade enters the distortion in front of him and disappears completely.
“Now, the fun part. Hold out your hand to catch it.”
“What?” I ask him, lifting my hand out automatically. Unexpectedly, a blade comes shooting out of that same distortion. If it wasn’t for my new reflexes, I am sure I would have missed it, but somehow I catch the blade and hold it up in wonder.
“Damn! I like that move,” I tell him with a grin.
“Yippee Ki Yay, motherfuckers!” he shouts back to me with a chuckle.
“Brandon!” my mother says sharply. Looking over at her guiltily, I see she is staring at Roger suspiciously.
“Yes?” I ask her worriedly.
“How does that thing know that reference? I thought you just called it up today?”
“Hmm.” Shit, that might not have been a good idea, I think to myself. Oh, wait. “As a construct I can call up, he has access to my memories. I guess he pulled it out from there, as I have seen that movie during Christmas, thanks to Dad,” I say lamely, hoping she will accept it.
Turning to Roger again, my mother asks him, “What age did Brandon stop peeing the bed?”
“Mom!” I yell at her, surprised.
“Hmm,” Roger starts. Then, at a blinding speed, he flies next to my mother’s ear and is back near me again in seconds.
My mother looks shocked, although I’m not sure if it’s at the speed that we just witnessed or the answer.
“I didn't want folks to hear, so I whispered it into her ear,” he says in my right ear.
Looking at him, I nod my thanks. Since the answer was embarrassing, as I was pretty old when it happened.
“Mom, did you have to ask that embarrassing question?” I ask her, upset.
“Sorry, but I needed to ask it something that would not be common knowledge,” she says, and has the good grace to look embarrassed about it.
“What? I want to know,” Lina says with a grin.
“No!” both my mother and I yell at Roger. Damn, my mom is getting to know Roger already. Oh boy.
“Fine,” he says with a sigh.
“Do they all have a personality like that?” my mother asks me.
“Apparently so,” I tell her with a twist of my mouth.
“Now, do you need anything else for the plan?” she asks me.
Looking at Silvana, Johanna, and Lina for confirmation, they all shake their heads. “No, I think we are good. Do we have a car to get to the location?” I ask her.
“Yes, Trent has a Humvee waiting for you,” she says.
“Hot damn!” Johanne says with passion. Of course she would be happy, I think with a laugh.
“I will let you four, or I guess five now, get ready for this. The timeline has changed, so you have a couple of days before your target moves,” my mother says. Walking up to me, she places both of her hands on my face and stares at me intently. “Come back, Brandon. That’s a mother’s order,” she says, and she brings my head down and kisses me on the forehead.
“I will, I pro─,” I begin, but she interrupts me.
“Just come back. I don’t want to lose you again.” She looks at Trent and tells him and the extra assistants to follow her with a wave of her hand. Fuck me. My mom acts like royalty. Who the fuck is she, really?
Once everyone but the girls and Roger are out, I turn to them and say, “So, think we can do this?”
“Of course,” Lina says as she slides up against me and hugs me. Looking up, she says in a purring voice, “You got this Brandon. You have three amazing women who can kick ass.”
“Yes, you do,” Silvana says with a laugh. “But we should still work on a plan, beyond just showing up.”
“I think it should be one where we take out the staff and security, and you go after the target. That way, you don’t need to focus on multiple targets,” Johanne says, all business, but then she grins and says, “But yes, you do have some kick-ass women around you now.”
“Would be nice to scout out the area before we go,” Johanne says with a sigh.
“Roger? Think you can handle that quickly?” I ask him curiously. He’d told me earlier that he had traveled to me pretty fast. I wonder if he can do the same here, and since no one could see him, he would be perfect.
“Sure, show me the map,” he says, floating towards the table.
Reaching for the stack of papers, I look through it ’til I find a map of sorts, with an address on the top. Roger hovers over it and says, “Hmm, not a lot to go on, let me access this world's internet,” and then proceeds to say, “Beep, Boop.”
“Really?” I ask him with a chuckle.
“Hey, gives it realism,” he says with a laugh. “Got it. So they are about 200 miles from here. Give me a minute,” he says, and suddenly disappears with a small crack of thunder and some wind that blows the papers around a bit.
“Crap!” I say, grabbing them quickly before they fall to the floor.
“Crap, sorry,” Roger says in my ear.
“You can see?” I say out loud.
“Yes, through your right eye, and also hear through your right ear. I will move outside or away next time. Didn’t expect that,” he says.
“Appreciate it,” I say.
“Who are you talking to?” Silvana asks me, looking at me oddly.
“Ah, part of the thing with Roger is he can see through my eyes and hear through my ears. He saw what happened when he popped away, or whatever it was he did, and he said sorry. I was talking to him.”
“Damn, I want a Roger,” Lina says with a pout.
“Tell her if I could, I would get her one,” Roger says with a laugh. “I like her.”
“Roger says if it’s any consolation, if he could, he would.”
“All right, I am there,” he says. I hold my hand up to the girls.
“He is there now,” I tell them. “What do you see?”
“Hmm, your mom was wrong about the number of staff members, if that was her intel in those papers. It said there is one magic-user and five security personnel. I count two magic-users and twenty-two security personnel. Most have this armor, whic
h I see in your memories is called body armor, and assault rifles. The security here is pretty tight, Brandon. I see magical triggers.”
“Shit, all right, let me relay that to the girls,” I tell him.
“Or I can, if you want,” Roger says, coming through the door of the cabin.
“Fuck, that is going to take some getting used to,” I say, shaking my head. “All right, go ahead and explain to the girls what you just told me,” I tell him.
So Roger goes over to where the girls are now sitting around the table, reading the intel sheets.
“Right, so the intel is incorrect in some spots. There are two magic-users, not one. One is of piddling ability. The other one is level two,” he says.
“Level two?” I ask him with a raised eyebrow. “How do you figure level two? This isn’t a game, Roger,” I tell him with a laugh.
“No, the level isn’t like a game,” he says. “Think of it as the level of magic available to them. Oh right, we didn’t turn that on. Here, you should be good now.”
Suddenly, the vision in my right eye darkens and comes back, making me blink. Looking at Roger, I see the blue circle twisting around him again, with a line of text next to it, as I had seen before. And I still can't read the text.
“Roger, I saw that the last time you did this. It’s like there’s a targeting reticle around you that is twisting, and there is a line of text flowing away from you. But the text is alien to me.”
“Oh, right! Let me reconfigure that,” he says, and my right eye goes black again. When it clears up, I see the words, and they make sense now. The text essentially just says ‘Roger’.
“Oh, that is so fucking amazing!” I shout out at him.
“Now, look at one of the girls,” he says with excitement in his voice.
Turning to Lina, who is the closest, the blue targeting reticle spins around her face, then the text that shows up next to her says Lina Madoor, and there is a number nine next to her name. Damn, nine? Looking at Johanne, I see there is a nine also, and her name. Looking finally at Sylvana, next to her name is the number ten.
“Are those high numbers?” I ask Roger, unsure what the numbers mean.
“Well, before you did the Thread of Faith ceremony, I would say that Sylvana would have maybe been a four or five in the power scale,” he says.
