A fire has been lit. My papers are unchanged in this room. I believe this house has probably not changed much. Who knows, though? Robert has always been one to stick with the times.
“Tell me, is the war still on?”
“No.”
“And does the king still rule?”
“No.”
“Good. My piece of land in the Americas?”
“It’s still yours.”
“And my father?”
“Dead.”
I pull a pipe from my coat, place the tobacco inside it, and light it up.
“This is not my coat,” I remark.
“I’ve had to have more made for you. Between the moths, rats, mice, and time, your old wardrobe has been obliterated.
“Then I guess I should ask the big question, shouldn’t I?”
“I guess.”
“What year is it, Robert?”
He hesitates. He never has in the past. It must have been a long one this time. I’ve never gone more than thirty years, so it must be forty, perhaps? I hear no horses in the street. Instead, I hear the beeping of some horn. Engines roaring, though not steam. People speaking to no replies. I don’t look out the window because this is partly the most fun for me – the game of figuring out where I am and what to do from here.
“The year is two thousand and seventeen, Victor. You’ve been traveling for over two hundred years.”
“Great.”
Chapter Five: Jack
A small, rustic-looking cottage. That was where he was keeping her safe? He must be mad. Ten years have come and gone, though, so who am I to judge him? Madison was never found. She has been kept safe. That’s all that this was about at the end of the day. Her safety was the forefront of my mission. A lot has happened since. I drive up to the cottage with a chauffeur while I sit patiently on the backseat with papers and laptops and the like littering the seat.
Who could have guessed?
The car stops at the front stairs of the small house. The door opens to an elderly man with a shotgun in his hand. On his hip, a revolver. Maybe Mason wasn’t completely off to trust these backward savages in keeping her safe.
“What’s your business here?” the old man shouts.
I open the door of the car and step out. “I am here on business. Madison Mahoney,” I continue. The old man lowers his gun. He must have been told of my arrival.
“Aha. You’re that Director fella? Come in.” The old man doesn’t wait for me or my guard to come close before he’s returned.
“Safety off...” I say under my breath. “For in case.”
We step into the house and the smell of food fills the air. Roast, if I’m not mistaken. The small cabin seems hidden from the rest of the world in more ways than one. Not only is it small, it’s also surrounded by many highways, mountains, and trees. Behind it, a massive accumulation of land. I walk into the house. I understand why he went inside now. There’s really not all that much about the house that could pose a threat. A small loft area which seems to be a bedroom, a walled-off area for an entertainment area to the right, and straight down and below the loft another small, walled-off area. Behind this, a door that leads to the kitchen. The old man has already taken a seat in the entertainment area. I doubt he will stand or speak again. I walk into the house, passing the entertainment area, then the second walled-off section that’s beneath the stairs. I feel a draft from behind the door but push on to the kitchen. Here, an old woman cooks. A young lady sits at the table, nervously playing with her long hair.
“Hello,” I say softly.
My guard says nothing. Not how he is supposed to act in the company of non-threatening civilians, but I’m not going to bother reprimanding him.
“Hello,” the younger lady replies.
“Good morning,” the older says. “You must be here for Madison,” she says.
“You’re here for me?” the young girl asks and smiles.
Her smile is beautiful.
“It seems that I am, yes,” I reply.
“And you are?”
“My name is Jack. I’ve been looking for you for a very long time, Madison.”
“Why?” Again, she smiles. Her voice is soft as she speaks to me. Her eyes have a twinkle of excitement.
“Because you’ve been gone for a very long time. Thank you for taking care of her,” I say to the old woman who smiles at me. “You’ve done Queen and country a great favor.”
“Well, you tell the Queen that she owes me a cup of tea, then,” the old lady laughs. “Now, off you go. Elijah doesn’t like new folks in our home, and I’m not one for the long goodbyes.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Madison gets up from her seat and wraps her arms around the old woman, holding her tightly.
“Get the car ready.” I gesture that my guard leaves. I’m not far behind. I let them have their moment.
Madison, it seems, is also only a few seconds behind us both. She steps out into the morning sun, and the rays only seem to enhance her stunning features. Her eyes sparkle as the rays strike them. That ever-lingering smile, one that you would not expect from someone that had just woken up from what must have felt like an eternity in a comatose state. All these little things culminating in a stunning creation of innocence and beauty.
“So, where are we off to?” she asks.
“Wherever you’d like. We’ve got a lot to talk about, but I believe you should take the time to get used to the world again. You’ve been out of touch for a while now, after all.”
“And then? We talk about the war?”
“Yes. Then we talk about the war.”
Chapter Six: Mason
I’ve been back for a day now. A day that has been trivial. Just another one in my eyes, but everything is different now. People seem to fear me tonight. They turn their heads and run as they see me walking down the street. I wonder why.
Today is different, however.
In the twenty-four hours that I’ve been back, I’ve seen a young girl, a man, and a few of my kin. One man I have neglected is a boy I have seen grow into a man, gaining power and admiration as he moved from nothing to everything.
Now? I must visit him.
Ankh’s home is nearly unchanged in the ten years I’ve been gone. The grass neatly trimmed. The flowers always beautifully maintained. The off-white walls having no signs of change.
I walk up to the door. From the gated-off section to the front door can’t be more than twenty steps. Three-quarters of the journey to the door, I see it crack open. There he stands. The Forsaken child, Ankh. Different than he had been. No longer wearing the clothes of the modern folk; instead, fully clad in what he would have worn had he been a Pharaoh in his father’s time.
“Can it be? The elusive Mason.” Even his voice has changed. No longer full of life and boyish wonder. It seems to have been replaced by his father’s own grim outlook on the world. Then his composure breaks, and he bursts out laughing. No doubt he saw the expression of what I can only assume being grief on my face. A snap of his fingers and a remarkable staff come into his hands. He slams it onto the ground, and he’s dressed in jeans and a shirt, slippers on his feet.
Ankh, as I know him.
“Mason,” he calls out, running up to me, his arms wrapping around me, “where have you been?”
“Tricked into staying in the Forsaken realm. I couldn’t have been there a couple of minutes, yet ten years are gone.” I return the hug.
“I’ve missed you, old friend.”
“And I you.” I didn’t, of course. Not because of any other reason than it’s only been a day. “You had me there, for a moment. I thought the Forsaken had finally hooked you into their own little games.”
“Don’t be silly.” He smiles, gesturing that we walk. “They don’t have much of a say in my life. Never have.” We walk up the porch steps and into his home.
“The staff is ready, I see.”
“Yes, has been since the big battle where we lost you. I gue
ss I didn’t really have much time to show it to you that day.” The house – unlike the outside – is a great deal different. The walls, halls, and furnishings are littered with ancient items. I feel their power radiating outward. I even feel a contact high.
“You’ve been busy,” I say as I look around.
“Quite. Needed to be ready for when you returned. I’ve got a lot to show you.” He leads me to the kitchen. “But before any of that, we need to talk about what you’ve missed. I’m sure you must be dying to hear about the world in your absence.”
“You’re not mistaken.”
“The real question is where to begin…”
“Well, the beginning would be a nice start.”
Ankh chuckles. “The war’s not over, if that’s what you’re wondering. Ten years have only enhanced its ferocity. The shifters and the Forsaken aren’t too big a part of it anymore. Drakka exacted his revenge by killing one of the vampire heads, and he thought an eye for an eye was enough to drop the assault against Daffyd. The Forsaken, once they knew the vampires weren’t much of a threat, helped out where they could for a few more years, just throwing their might into thrashing Daffyd wherever they could to show that a war is not what the vampires should have engaged in. This brought a whole world of new issues into our wake.”
He takes from his fridge two bottles. One, a bottle of champagne; the other, a bottle of blood.
“What issues, exactly?”
“The Forsaken threw everything they had at the vampires once the girl was saved, knowing that they were under no real threat. The Forsaken, not having a direct tie to this world, brought the full might of their power down because they know that if the humans forget about them, they will fade. They decided to show them they were real, only enhancing their powers continuously. This gave way to new threats for the vampires. The Agency in Britain, the one where that Jack fellow comes from? Well, they’ve expanded now because demand has soared.”
“What exactly are you saying?”
“There is no divide between humanity and the supernaturals any longer. For lack of a better term, the veil has been breached.”
I sip at the blood before me.
“That explains a lot.”
“What do you mean?”
“I walked through hordes of people tonight, and they were not as oblivious as I had hoped them to be. It seems they knew I was a creature of the night.”
I take a seat. Ankh gathers his thoughts. Ten years of information in one night is a great feat. He’s going to try his hardest to do it all, it seems, and who am I to deny it?
“Tell me, what of Daffyd?” I finally ask after I feel he’s had enough time to compose himself.
“Still alive. His forces are far greater. Without you as his crutch, he took matters into his own hands. He’s become far more tactical since then. He’s got a warrant out among the vampires for your head, too. I heard this through the grapevine and knew you’d be around to see me eventually, so I’ve made a few alterations to your weapons.”
“I can hear you’re excited to show me the new toys, Ankh, but for now, let’s stick to this conversation.”
He laughs. “Of course. Daffyd never left the Veil, by the way. He’s only rebuilt after the attacks. A foolish move some would say, but many have entered to take him on, and none have surfaced.”
“What about Romulus?”
Immediately, Ankh’s entire demeanor changes.
“How could I be so stupid.” He nearly slaps himself in the face with self-distaste. “Romulus is the only one who’s truly in the war. His forces have multiplied a thousand times over. Aliana and his daughter, Abigail, were killed after you rescued the girl. He found them, and Daffyd slaughtered them right in front of Romulus. Since then, he took nearly any wolf that would have him into his pack. Now? He’s the most powerful alpha in the country,” Ankh downs his drink.
“So, power has gotten to his head?”
“Not quite. He’s merely exacting revenge. You should pay the wolves a visit. It will do them well, knowing that the Ancient has returned and fighting on their side.” There is a moment of reluctance before the last sentence leaves his lips, and I understand why. I have always been somewhat of a gun for hire. Seldom putting myself in one camp. Now will be no different. Apart from maybe one small change: I won’t be on the market.
“You said the Agency expanded?”
“Yes. As I’m sure you know, the Agency’s main goal was to keep the supernatural away from the normal. When my kin opened the world into the supernatural world, the Agency no longer had a purpose. What do you do when you’re backed into a corner? You fight outward. They rebranded themselves. No longer as the group keeping their peers in the dark, but instead they are the saviors. The Agency has divided into factions across the globe, with Jack holding the place of Director in America.”
I take a moment to process.
“From what I’m understanding, you’re saying that there is a tyranny across the board? Vampires, wolves, people...the only factions that have no set place are the witches and the shifters?”
Ankh’s expression proves my statement wrong. “You’re half right. The shifters are on their own tangent, going about life the same way as they always had. The witches, on the other hand…well, they created their first coven in a millennium. One super coven that spans across the world, too, it seems. That child you saved, she caused a lot of uproar in the community. She’s the sole reason this world has turned to shit.”
“I know,” I reply. It’s not hard to see. “Had things gone differently, the world would have continued normally. An endless, day to day struggle. Nothing would be different. Nothing would be splendid. We’d all simply find ourselves one second closer to death. Isn’t that child a wonderful little thing?”
Ankh nods. He knows as well as I do that Madison gave this world a new kick. A fresh start. Something it hasn’t seen in the last hundred years.
“So, it’s been an interesting ten years then. I need to plot my routes. You say Daffyd is still head of the Veil? Then I will see him soon. Jack will follow. Then Drakka. Take on the most hostile before the easiest.” I think for a second. “Where do the Sentinel pack call home now?”
“The burning forest, I think they named it. A few witches came together and set a few spells up where any undead creature that steps into a certain radius of the camp will be lit from head to toe in the sun’s rays, no matter the time of day. Interesting magic that goes into it, you see…”
“Ankh, stay on track. Where is the forest? I may need you to be my emissary.”
“It’s in the middle of the lake. On dead man’s land.”
“The neutral grounds? I like their thinking.”
“I will be your emissary if it’s necessary, Mason. I’m sure Romulus will be glad to hear from you.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” I reply. “But that’s beside the point. The witch coven. Who holds the title of leader?”
“It’s a witch and warlock pair. Brother and sister called Venice and Atticus. She’s the brain, and he’s the muscle. They’re strong, so watch out. They shack up in the east, on Mount Umbra.
“I was just there yesterday,” I think aloud.
“Ah, exiling another to the cave? You’ve only been back a day.”
“Not quite…” I smile. “Releasing a young girl.”
“Is there anything else you’d like to discuss?” Ankh asks, running a hand through his long hair.
“Not right now. Is there anything more you’d like to tell me?”
“Nothing, no. As long as you feel updated on the events, then that’s all that matters. The world’s going downhill, Mason, and it’s heading there quickly. Something’s got to change, and it’s got to change quickly.”
“Yes, and it will. I just need to do my due diligence and pay my respects. That is what has to happen first. Then we can make our next moves.”
Chapter Seven: Daffyd
I sit in the war room at the head of a circular ta
ble, where the map of the city and its outskirts lay. It’s all computerized. It’s beautiful. With the swipe of my fingers, things can change on the map, something that would have taken me hours to plan only fifty years before. How times have changed.
I stare at it. Hamish at my right, Brooke at my left, the twenty-three sector leaders and a few of their lieutenants all surround the table. Our meetings have become more frequent since the war began. The council, on the other hand, I have found to be redundant. A weakness that needs to be eradicated. Sitting in their ivory tower, not lending a hand, but still dictating my actions.
“Ladies and gentleman, settle down,” Hamish says after standing up. “You have been brought here to discuss further plans. Though the war against the Forsaken has long since come to an end and you are no longer under true threat, there is a debt of service owed to the crown,” I sip at a chalice filled with blood, “Now, we’re not asking you to step onto the battlefield yourselves, just to lend forces for time being.”
I cock a brow and turn to Hamish. “Lend forces?” I laugh, standing up to speak for myself. “No, I’m not asking you to lend me your forces. Rather, I’m telling you that there is now a national service, for lack of a better term. I have noticed a dramatic incline in siring rates. This falls mainly on the more tropical side of our adventures. I’m going to return to the way things once were. The king gets a piece of the pie. I’ve let you all run around for years, doing as you please, and it was fine for some time, but now we are no longer hidden. I know why the numbers are being pumped up, of course. The knowledge of supernatural life intrigues the humans. They want to be converted, and you fools think you’re smart enough to create a super army to head after your king. This won’t do.”
I can see the guilty parties hide their heads in shame where the rest listen to me without a squeak. “So what’s going to happen now is simple. Twenty percent of trained troops and forty percent of untrained sirelings will come into my company. I will train the new vampires, and the others will fight alongside my men on the battlefield against the wolves. To remain under protection and service of the king, you will pay from now on. A service fee of forty percent of your clan’s earnings. Skip on a payment or withdraw from service, and I will have you dealt with accordingly.”
The Vampire Touch 2: Into the Uknown Page 2
