by Justin Sloan
“What?” Sandra asked. “Oh, because I’m not a vampire or Were. Yeah, don’t worry, I don’t plan on death by shitting – which is completely gross by the way, so… yeah. I’ll keep my worry to mosquitos, you two protect me from everything else.”
“You don’t, I don’t know, want to see if…?” Diego looked to Valerie for help here, but she just frowned and shook her head. She’d brought up the topic of changing Sandra before, and knew Sandra wasn’t open to it.
In truth, it worried Valerie too. The chances of surviving the transformation to vampire for anyone were low, especially so for females, for some reason. They didn’t die, but lost their minds. The results were the mindless creatures they called Nosferatu. She wasn’t sure if it was the same for Weres, but didn’t really want her friend to take the risk.
“This is who I am,” Sandra said, and stood, cinching on her pack. Without another word, she started walking.
“Sensitive topic?” Diego asked Valerie.
She nodded, put on her own pack, and followed.
CHAPTER NINE
Enforcer HQ
The night hadn’t been especially kind to any of them, but at least Royland was used to being up at night and sleeping during the day. After forming teams and spreading out through the city, they had failed to find any more of the assassins, and the one that ran seemed to have escaped.
While there were walls around the city, they only really helped against the whackos and nomad tribes, neither of which had bothered Old Manhattan in some time. A skilled assassin, especially of the vampire variety, wouldn’t find it incredibly difficult to find a section of the wall that was unguarded and climb up.
Unguarded was the key there—now Cammie had her team of Weres out searching along the wall to ensure no guards had been casualties in the night.
All of that aside, the fake death of Valerie had worked. Already word was spreading that the would-be liberator turned attacker was done for at the hands of Jackson, and that the city leaders were rallying behind him.
That only left Morgan and her underground fighters.
Which was why Royland was walking along the hallway to Ella’s room in the early hours of the morning. He meant to arrange a meeting with them on his terms. The way he figured it, Morgan couldn’t fight the whole city, and Ella was their only means of communication with her.
Only, when he reached the room, the door was wide open.
A pair of legs were just visible in the corner.
Royland burst into the room, ready for trouble, but instead only found Wallace. The man wore his police uniform and had a lump on the back of his head. He must have been hit hard.
“Wallace, you with me?”
A groan came in response.
Royland hefted the man up, which wasn’t especially hard given Royland’s vampire strength, despite his exhaustion. He sped out of there and to the elevators, where at this point, Wallace was recovering but had a dazed look. While they waited, the man even looked like he was about to vomit.
“Dammit, Wallace, what happened?” Royland asked. “You might be concussed. Ella did this to you?”
Wallace nodded and muttered a, “Uh-huh.”
“I don’t get it, she was just starting to earn our trust.”
The doors opened and there were two of his vampires. They took a moment to process the scene, and one said, “Medical?”
“Please.” He guided Wallace in, so that the other two could support him, and said, “I’m going to wake the colonel.”
“No need,” the other vampire said. “Saw a figure on the roof on our way in, and I’m pretty sure it was him.”
Royland nodded his thanks and made for the stairs, bounding up them two at a time. With each step he cursed their luck. First the assassin situation, though that could have gone way worse, and now this with Ella escaping. When he made it all the way to the top, he was winded and pissed, so the door went flying open with a bang, though he didn’t mean it to.
Colonel Donnoly spun on him, hand on the pistol at his side. “Damn, Royland. Should we just pile a heart attack onto everything else?”
“Ella’s gone, sent Wallace to medical.”
“The hell?” Donnoly released the pistol, both hands on the railing as he leaned back to look out over the city. “That’s why love doesn’t belong in the workplace.”
“Or why we shouldn’t give any leeway to those who have betrayed us in the past.”
“You don’t believe in second chances, Royland?”
“Sir, I’m a vampire, a former Forsaken taken in by the kindness of Valerie after she rescued me. If anyone here believes in second chances, it’s me. That doesn’t mean we just hand them out like butterscotch at a birthday party.”
“Butterscotch at a…” Donnoly turned to stare at him, frowning. “Exactly how long have you been around?”
Royland shrugged. “Long enough.”
Donnoly shrugged, apparently accepting it, and returned to assessing the city. Even with his head spinning with all that was happening, Royland had to admit that the city looked peaceful. The sun hadn’t risen yet, though the dark blue on the horizon was turning yellow, and a low fog was settling over the taller buildings, theirs included. Wisps of it passed as they watched.
“I hope you have a plan,” Royland finally said.
“Letting the Weres and vampires deal with it isn’t enough, I suppose.”
Royland chuckled. “You want to deal with something in the UnknownWorld, you come to us. Something’s going on with you Regulars, seems to me that’s your territory.”
“Regulars?”
“Not to be confused with Regulators, yes. I figure that’s what you all are, right? We’re genetically modified humans, you’re not. You’re regular. Borings could work too, but I went with the more PC version.”
“I’ll be sure to thank you for that someday,” Donnoly said. He turned to Royland and took a deep breath, eyes roaming across the vampire’s face. “I trust you, which is saying a lot. It wasn’t that long ago I didn’t know vampires really existed, you know? I heard legends, rumors from the pirates we’d arrested over the years. They say there’s a vampire king up there, you know that? That he lives in the deep north, and that pirates give him treasure and the occasional sacrifice, or he will swarm down on them with his vampire horde.”
“Well, shit…” was all Royland could think to say.
“Shit indeed. I never believed it until I met you. All those symbols on the pirate ships, of vampire skulls and worse, I always assumed it was simply part of their image. Intimidation factors. Now I’m starting to wonder just how screwed up the north really is.” He turned to Royland and frowned. “Something funny?”
“I hadn’t even realized I was smiling,” Royland said. “But no, I was just thinking how we here in America tried to stay so secret, while all this time we could’ve been up north terrorizing pirates.”
“Maybe you’ll get your chance someday.”
“No, my place is here with you and the people of Old Manhattan.”
“And that’s why I like you.” Donnoly clapped him on the shoulder. “But here’s the thing. A messenger arrived just half an hour ago, from Morgan. She wants to set up a meeting with us and Jackson. I guess she heard about Valerie’s so-called Death.”
“That and her most recent power play with Ella, if the two were connected.”
“Oh, I’m sure they are.”
The two turned to head back down, Royland’s mind spinning with what this meeting could be about.
CHAPTER TEN
Fallen Lands Outpost
Robin and Brad were on their first raid and it was exhilarating. The mission, as Giuseppe had laid it out, was to gather supplies, additional weapons and ammo from one of the nearby City States. It was much less protected, scouts reported, and if anything it seemed to be hostile toward the FDG.
That’s how she could justify it—they were hurting the FDG’s enemy, so that they would have a better chance when it comes to t
aking us on. Even the odds before slaughtering them.
The idea of killing anyone still sat sour in Robin’s mouth. She had been training night after night, learning all of the weapons at their disposal, and occasionally beating the piss out of Brad—not that he didn’t get his in as well—but killing was different.
Sinking one’s vampire teeth into a person’s neck and feeding, as they told her she would have to do, went against everything she believed in. Once she went there, could she ever go back? Could she really return to her family someday and look them in the eyes, after committing such an atrocity?
Not likely.
They moved under the pale moon, careful not to be seen until it was time. They chose this location, thirty miles or so outside of Chicago, because it was close enough for word and terror to spread, but far enough away to make the FDG question the stories they would hear.
This far away also meant the CEOs could keep their hands clean. They were relatively new to the area, and attacks soon after their arrival could earn finger pointing their way. Not that they didn’t have the armies to stand their ground.
It was a different sort of city than Robin was used to seeing, out here in the trees with wooden stakes protruding from the ground and huge crosses, as if either would really deter their kind.
There had been a time when she too wondered if the old religions would do anything to fend off vampires. She had learned the hard way that nothing could keep the vampires away once they were determined to kill or take a city.
Now she was on the other side, Brad nearby, a handful of other newer vampires trailing behind.
A shout sounded in the night, and she spun to see the shadow of a man falling from the wall, one of Brad’s vampires already making his move.
“Control your team,” she said, but realized it was too late for that now. She motioned her team forward, and they sprinted, full on vampire speed, to take the walls and anyone who stood in their way.
Robin, for her part, was up and over the wall before anyone had time to process what had happened, and found herself in a make-shift city built largely on old ruins, but with a few log cabins and even several tents and teepees.
It actually would have been a pleasant place to live, before becoming a vampire.
“FEED!” a loud voice called, and she turned to see Giuseppe on the wall now, three of his vampires behind him, watching as if this were a great show.
But it wasn’t part of the plan. They were supposed to enter, take supplies, and return, only killing if necessary.
And then, as a man emerged from a nearby tent, ax in hand, she realized that this was still training. The element of surprise. The need to kill, as they would be too exhausted from the trip and the fighting to otherwise stand a chance.
She hated them at that moment, even as she dodged a strike from the man with the ax, and then plowed into him with her shoulder. He flew back into the tent, collapsing it and hitting something metal that was inside. As he recovered, two more emerged from houses nearby, one with a crossbow and one with two knives.
This wasn’t going to end well for anyone. Either she’d be killed, or have to kill, and it pissed her off.
With a hiss, she charged them and swept out the legs of the knife-holder, then felt a crossbow bolt take her in the calf. She grunted in pain and turned on the guy, leaping forward to backhand him and send him spiraling into the dirt.
More men and several women were appearing to join the fight, but soon vampires were plowing through them, pausing momentarily to bite into them and replenish their energy through feeding.
Blood splattered the ground, and Robin found herself both sickened to her stomach and filled with an odd yearning.
She pushed it aside, spinning as she witnessed the carnage. Her calf stung horribly, and when the man came at her with a sword she barely reacted in time to dodge the blow.
The next strike came heavy and from the right, so that when she stepped to dodge out of the way, forgetting she was injured, her leg gave out. The sword swung inches from her head, and she scampered backward and away from the attacking man.
If anyone saw her retreating, she would be toast. Right now though, that didn’t matter. Her chest rose and fell in quick bursts and she felt a cold sweat on the sides of her neck, just below the ears.
The next sword strike came but hit the wood of a doorway. Using the moment to escape, Robin rolled back and planted herself in a defensive stance, hissing with red eyes glowing to scare the man off.
He hesitated, and in that second a vampire from outside slit his throat and then fell on the man, consuming his life.
No matter what Robin did here, she realized, it didn’t matter. These people were goners.
But it would not be by her hand.
A whimper came from behind. Slowly turning her head, she came face to face with a woman about her own age with wide, teary eyes.
“It’s okay,” Robin said. “I’m not going to…”
Something had slid into her midsection, cold and sharp, and when she looked down she saw the woman clutching a cooking knife half plunged into Robin’s torso. With another whimper, the woman shifted the blade, turning it in an attempt to ensure it did its worst.
Unbelievable pain shot through Robin and rage filled her, but she fought it.
“Go, get out of here,” she whispered, taking the woman’s hands and pulling the knife out, “while you still can.”
The woman’s hands trembled, but she tried to stab Robin again.
This time Robin reacted, slapping the knife out of the woman’s hands, before stumbling back and plopping onto her butt. She stared up at the woman as her own blood flowed, and once again said, “Go!”
A shadow fell through the doorway, and the woman turned with terror-filled eyes.
In a flash, she was on the floor, Brad holding her by the neck, snarling.
He looked between her and Robin with confusion, then his eyes widened with realization.
“They’ll kill you,” he said to her, eyes pleading. “They’ll drain you and leave you for dead, or worse, if you don’t take her life.” He leaned back, hand still on the woman’s throat, and said, “You have to drink.”
The woman’s eyes went wide and she tried to scream, but Brad’s hand moved to her mouth. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway, with the screams and sounds of fighting outside.
Still, for Robin it mattered. This was a person, not some animal for the slaughter.
“I won’t,” she whispered. With a spasm of pain, she tried to back away, but the pool of blood beneath her was spreading and she slipped.
The pain and exhaustion were worse than she thought, and as she tried to stand again, she collapsed, head hitting the floor, hard.
“You’ve never fed before,” Brad said, frustration burning in his voice. “Of course… and with all we’ve been doing, you’re drained. Robin, please.”
She shook her head.
He grunted in frustration, then pulled the helpless woman up beside him, hand still over her mouth.
“You want to be with your family again someday, right?” He glared at her, chest heaving. “Yes, I know much more about you than you’d think. And I know that you don’t want to let this end here. That you can’t stand the idea of your mother and father out there, never knowing what happened to you. Nor you passing on without having another chance to hug them, tell them you love them, am I right?”
Clenching her teeth, she nodded. Dammit, he was right. But not like this.
“DO IT!” he shouted, thrusting the woman forward, who collapsed on her knees in tears.
Robin shook her head, barely, though it took an effort.
“Ah!” Brad stepped forward, took the woman’s wrist, and bit in, deep. For a moment he drank, dark red blood trickling down his chin as he closed his eyes in ecstasy, and then, when the woman was too weak to resist, he held the wrist to Robin’s mouth and pressed.
When she tried to push it away, he pressed harder, and then the first dr
op of blood hit her tongue and she didn’t realize it, but she was clinging to the arm, drinking and feeling each heartbeat of this woman, growing slower, and slower.
At last she pushed back, screaming as her back arched and she screamed in frustration at what she had become. At what Brad had made her become.
“Not me,” Brad said, pulling her close and pointing to the doorway. “Them, Robin. Never forget it was them who did this to us.”
Robin glared, on the verge of exploding, but then glanced at the near lifeless form of the woman on the floor.
“She’s not dead,” Brad whispered. “By morning, she might be, or maybe not. The point is that you live to fight another day… to find your family.”
All Robin could do was stare at the woman’s body, her chest barely rising and falling at all, her fingers twitching.
Finally, unable to watch any longer, Robin pushed herself up and turned to the door, where she froze at the sight of Giuseppe standing there. His eyes were glowing red, his fangs exposed, and he smiled.
“Well done, children,” he said, and then motioned for them to follow as he spun and disappeared into the now silent darkness.
“Robin,” Brad said, reaching out a hand to comfort her, “you know it had to be done.”
She stepped out of his reach and glared. “Whether it did or not, that won’t change the disgust I feel right now when I look at you.”
“Then let’s hope time truly heals all wounds,” he said. “Because I never plan on leaving your side.”
With a shiver, full of revulsion, she turned and walked out of there with Brad in tow.
In the midst of ruins and log cabins and teepees, the vampires were gathered, along with a batch of fresh supplies. Many had blood on their chins or splattered across their clothes, all but one. A man Robin recognized from only having arrived about a week after her. He stood defiantly, looking at the rest of them with disgust.
“This, my warriors, my beautiful assassins of the night,” Giuseppe said, “is what happens when you fail to embrace your calling.”
