Reaching deep within, to the most primitive depths of his soul, he found the unique power gifted to him by his vampire blood. He found . . . fire.
Vampires screamed as blue flames reached out to engulf them, burning endlessly, but leaving their bodies untouched, so that the agony never ended. They writhed in pain, begging for an end, for mercy.
Don’t they know? Quinn thought distantly. There was no mercy in the world of Vampire. He slowly returned his gaze to Christie, whom he’d left trapped in place, but untouched by the blue flames.
“My lord,” Christie said, going down on one knee. “I didn’t know.”
“What didn’t you know?” Quinn crooned, gliding a step closer.
“Th-that you had such power, that—”
“That I could kill you with a thought? Or let you suffer the way they are?” He gestured casually at the vampires still writhing within their prisons of the blue flame.
“My lord, please.”
Quinn tilted his head curiously. “Please? Please what?”
“Don’t . . .” He shot a terrified look at the screaming vampires. “Spare me.”
“Ah. You believe they deserve to suffer, but you don’t?”
Christie’s eyes rolled in terror, until all Quinn could see were bloodshot white orbs. “Mercy, my lord.”
“Very well,” Quinn said idly, his gaze wandering over the trapped vampires. “Not everyone needs to die. They were just doing their jobs.” His gaze swung back to Christie. “Doing what you told them to.”
“Nooooo!” Christie’s scream of denial lasted far longer than his life, as Quinn surrounded him with flames that went from blue to fiery orange in the blink of an eye, leaving nothing but a pile of dust that danced merrily as the fire consumed even that.
With a thought, the blue flames dropped from around the screaming vampires, and they fell to the warehouse floor, unconscious. When they woke, they’d remember being trapped and a vague sense of horror. But there’d be no specific recollection of fire, unless Quinn decided to make them remember. He didn’t think of himself as cruel, but it was a cruel weapon. It was also very effective.
Quinn swung his gaze around to scan his people, afraid of what he’d see. They all knew what he could do. He’d made sure of it before he recruited them. But, other than Garrick, they’d never seen him burn another vampire, or any living thing, into dust.
Quinn had known early on that his power was unusual. After killing Marcelina, he and Garrick had found Rajmund, and Quinn had learned even more about his extraordinary ability. Every vampire born with the power to be a lord had a unique gift. Quinn had seen what Rajmund could do, had heard stories of Lucas’s power on the battlefield. And he’d recently witnessed firsthand the unbelievable power wielded by Raphael, a power so great that he didn’t know how a single vampire could contain it.
But he’d never heard of a power as willfully destructive as his own. Was there any pain greater than that inflicted by fire? He’d worked with it over the years, until he could control its effect. Blue flames to cause pain without damage to the flesh, orange to kill. There was also a paler flame, nearly white, that trapped a victim, but inflicted only terror, a wordless threat. It was all horrific. But it was his to wield, and so he’d studied it, practicing over the years, until he could not only control its destructiveness, but wield it effectively. Because he’d known even then that he had the power of a vampire lord, that the day would come when he’d want a territory of his own. That he’d have to fight to make that happen, and then fight some more to defend the people that were his. And he had to be ready.
“My lord.”
His gut clenched at the formal phrase coming from Garrick. This was it. No one had forced this fate on him. Sure, Marcelina had turned him unwilling, and the vampire symbiote had given him this power whether he wanted it or not. But he’d decided what happened after that. He didn’t have to be a lord, didn’t have to rule so much as a nest, much less an entire territory. He could have continued his law practice, with his life only slightly altered. But he’d chosen to embrace the power he’d been given. He’d chosen to rule. And now it was time for him to step up and meet his fate, just as he’d done his entire life.
“Garrick,” he said.
“What do we do with . . .” His cousin glanced at the collapsed vampires.
“They’ll come around soon enough. When they do, send them home to recover and sleep out the day. But I want them back here tomorrow night. Christie had one thing right. We need an inventory, and that’s going to take people and time. Anyone who doesn’t show will be fair game. Make sure they understand that.
“In the meantime, I need to finish going through those records Christie sent me. He packed them with useless information to obscure the rest. He wasn’t as clever as he thought, but I’ll still need time to get through it all. Can I leave all of this to you?”
“Of course. Adorjan will drive you—”
“I don’t need anyone—”
“You revealed your power tonight, my lord. Sorley may suspect what you are, but this will give him confirmation. Someone in this lot will talk, no matter how much we threaten. That makes you a target. Adorjan is your new security chief. Let him do his job.”
Quinn stared at his cousin. “Son of a bitch,” he swore softly. “All right. Adorjan,” he called, “let’s go.”
QUINN WOKE THE next night knowing there were many more vampires in the house than there had been previously. It was more than a simple awareness of the crowd. He could sense every one of his team individually, could feel their sleeping minds. He woke earlier than any of them. He was accustomed to waking before Garrick, of course. And he’d woken before Marcelina at the end, too. But he’d never had this crystal clarity of every mind around him. He found it . . . refreshing. He’d always preferred order to chaos, precision to sloppiness. He’d driven more than one legal assistant to the verge of resigning, and had tipped two of them right over that edge. But that diligence, plus an iron will and unrelenting drive, had made him the youngest partner in the history of his very prestigious Boston law firm.
Of course, it was no longer his firm, and he was no longer a lawyer. A shame, really. He’d enjoyed the law. But now he was a fucking vampire lord, and it was time he began to act like it.
Throwing the blankets off, he got up from the bed. A single glance at Garrick told him his cousin would be waking before too much longer, just as his newfound awareness told him the others would, too. Adorjan would be the first of the new arrivals to wake. He was young, but as strong as Garrick. And utterly loyal.
Quinn took a quick shower, knowing the hot water wouldn’t last long with so many people in the house. He started the coffee, but didn’t wait for it to finish. He filled a single mug and, ignoring the sizzle and smell of burning coffee on the warmer, made his way to the dining room to make a few final notes on his computer. He wasn’t naive enough to think he’d be able to continue doing research at this level once he became Lord of Ireland. He’d have to hire a few vampires to do it for him. New assistants to torment. He smiled at the thought. It had been too long. But still, he gazed around the room, with its neat stacks of newly organized files. He was going to miss this.
“My lord?”
He’d expected Garrick to show up first, but it was Adorjan who walked into the room behind him. “Good evening, Adorjan. How are the others?”
“Well, enough,” he said, entering the room. “Happy to finally get started, after all our preparations.”
Quinn smiled. “Good. Tonight we’ll go back to the warehouse and establish a routine going forward. I’ve gone through all of this.” He indicated the files with a sweep of his arm. “Christie was an idiot, but he kept good records, even if he did his best to make it look otherwise. This is an opportunity-based smuggling enterprise. Whatever they can get their hands on,
whatever will make money, is what they bring in. Guns and drugs are high on the list, of course. No surprise there. This is Ireland. Guns are theoretically legal, but permits are hard to come by, with crisscrossed jurisdictions. That doesn’t mean there aren’t any. Lots of sport and hobby guns, especially in the countryside. The heavy hitters, the AK47s and 9mm with their 100 round mags, those are harder to find, but there’s definitely a market for them. Some of the Howth operation’s biggest clients are the gangs running drugs through the main port in Dublin. They need the firepower to deal with their Central American distributors. Oddly enough, the locals are bringing in their own supply of coke and marijuana on occasion, circumventing the Dublin gangs altogether. Lucky for them, and now for us, their few drug shipments are too small to concern the big boys in Dublin.
“We’ll have to continue the operation as it is for now. Too many vampires depend on it for their livelihood. Not to mention, more than one human business, legal or otherwise. Even though my goal is to bring Ireland’s vampires into the light, with nothing but legal ventures, that will take time, and I can’t simply cut without replacing.”
He looked up when Garrick joined them, coming in to stand next to Adorjan. “Garrick,” Quinn greeted him.
“My lord,” his cousin said.
The formality caused the same pain in Quinn’s heart, but it was already fading. He’d never been a man to mourn the impossible. No? Then what about Eve? The thought rose unbidden, making his gut clench. He shoved it aside. “I’m glad you’re both here. Why don’t we sit?”
They took seats around the elegant table, now clear since the files had been moved to the sideboard. Three young, fit men, each with a cup of coffee before him, casually dressed and sprawled back in their chairs—this didn’t look much like the beginning of a coup, Quinn thought. But that’s what it was.
“We’re moving to Dublin tomorrow night.” Their eyes widened only slightly, more in anticipation than surprise, Quinn thought. “I’ll need one of the men to remain here to oversee the smuggling operation. It needs to be someone strong enough to control the local vampires, most of whom are strictly lower level in terms of their power. One or two have some strength, but nothing approaching the level of a master. They’ll go along with the new management as long as it continues to make money. Which it will. One or two will think to take over in Christie’s place, but they’ll be gone after tonight. I’d rather leave more than one of our own to supervise, but I don’t know what I’m going to face in Dublin. So, for now, at least, I want everyone else with me there. Any suggestions on who should stay behind?”
“Casey Austin,” Garrick said immediately, exchanging a glance with Adorjan, who nodded his agreement. “He’s strong enough, and he ran his family’s farm before he was turned. His family still runs the place, and they consult frequently. He has a head for business, that’s for sure.”
Quinn nodded. “He was also raised by his Irish mother and grandmother after his father died, so he’s fluent in Irish Gaelic. That’s one of the reasons I chose him for this task force.” He turned to Garrick. “Do you think he’ll mind being left alone here?”
Garrick shook his head. “He has a knack for getting along with people. I’ve always thought there’s some extra vampire magic in his blood. You watch, he’ll have them believing he’s always been one of them by the end of the night.”
“Good to know.” Quinn was thinking of the future, and the many ways he could use a vampire with a talent like that. “We’ll head over to the warehouse as soon as everyone’s up and ready, unless you have questions?”
Adorjan shook his head. “I spoke to Bell as soon as I woke tonight. They’re ready for us in Dublin. Bell says it’s a nice place. Good acreage, but too many neighbors, which is expected in the city like that. For now, we’ll be keeping a close perimeter until we can build up our security forces, both day and night.”
“Agreed. I’m trying to do something about the neighbors, though, and hope to have some extra acreage by the time this is all settled. We don’t need any nosey humans snooping around and getting hurt, or worse.” Quinn lowered his head, running through a mental to-do list. “I think that’s it for now. Tell Casey I’d like to talk to him when he’s ready.”
THE LOCAL VAMPIRES were all waiting inside when Quinn and the others arrived, hanging around the edges of the warehouse, sitting on crates or lounging on chairs that looked as if they’d been stolen from the local pub. They probably had been. Adorjan had insisted on checking the perimeter before letting Quinn enter, looking for explosives or any other kind of trap set for the American vampire who’d so easily taken over their lives. Finding nothing, Adorjan still walked in ahead of Quinn, stepping aside when he determined it was safe, something Quinn had known all along. But the day would inevitably come when a location wasn’t safe, when Quinn was too preoccupied with other matters to spare the kind of attention needed to anticipate that kind of betrayal. He’d be glad, then, that Adorjan was there to search out the danger for him. And that was why they both needed to begin now to establish routines for that future day.
Touching the big vampire’s shoulder lightly, Quinn walked around him and into the warehouse, his gaze skimming over the assembled vamps. Everyone was here. Even if he hadn’t memorized the faces—which he had—he’d counted them last night. But there was someone new in the warehouse, too. Someone hiding. Quinn sent a wisp of power around the area, searching, and found the newcomer lurking against the far wall, in the shadows between shelving units. Interesting. This night might prove entertaining, after all.
“Some of you might be worried about the new management,” he said, setting aside thoughts of the lurker. “You might even mourn Christie’s death.” Quinn shrugged. “He had a choice. He made the wrong one. For those of you who didn’t catch it, my name is Quinn Kavanagh. Orrin Sorley sent me here to take over this operation.”
The lurker made his move then, striding into the light with heavy footfalls, as if trying to intimidate Quinn with his presence. The idea was laughable, but Quinn let the scene play out. The vampire was big and rough looking, with an unkempt beard and mean eyes. He marched forward until he stood in front of several others who were sitting to one side of the warehouse. And then he stared at Quinn, who gave him a glance of mild interest and kept talking.
“You can believe Sorley sent me or not. Your belief matters nothing to me. What does matter is that you do your jobs,” he ended with a growl.
“So, you’re the new management,” the mean-eyed vamp sneered. “Let me break it down for you, boss.”
Quinn gave him a flat look. He had no time to waste on this asshole. Reaching out with his power—not his fire, he didn’t need that for this piece of meat—he stopped the vamp’s heart. Those mean eyes widened, going from arrogance to terror in a heartbeat. Quinn didn’t give him time to beg. The asshole collapsed to the warehouse floor and, fortunately, was old enough to dust upon death. Half-deteriorated vampire bodies were a fucking mess.
“Anyone else have a problem with the new management?” Quinn asked, raking the crowd with cold eyes. “Good. Now, my read of Christie’s notes says there’s a shipment of guns coming in soon. How do we know when, exactly, they’re coming?” He waited and eventually a vampire stepped forward.
“We don’t.” The vampire was older than the others. Older in age, that is, not appearance. He looked to be in his late thirties, but Quinn could feel the vamp’s age in his bones. He was well over one hundred, maybe twice as old as that. But he had no power. Quinn tried to imagine living forever as an ordinary citizen. Getting up, going to work, snagging a tasty human for the night, going to sleep, and doing it all over again. Forever. He didn’t think he could do it. He’d go insane and walk into the sun first.
He shook away such thoughts and focused on the vampire’s words. “How’s that work then?”
“They give us a call when they’re a mile or t
wo out, and we make arrangements to meet them.”
“That’s going to change. I don’t leave things to chance. I want to know the lead time between their call and the actual delivery for every transaction over the last year. Sort it by boat captain, as well. We may have to cut loose some of our suppliers if they’re not reliable. If I give you the list of deliveries, can you provide that info?”
The vampire nodded, seeming happy to be of service. “Yes, my lord. And what I don’t remember, the other guys will.”
“Any humans on the payroll? Other than boat captains, of course. That’s unfortunate, but necessary.”
“There’s a handful of local humans who help out.”
“Christie didn’t list any on the payroll.”
“He hired them as he needed them. Paid them in cash,” another vampire said, standing up from where he’d been sitting on a stack of wooden crates.
“That’s going to change, too. From now on, the only humans we hire are the ones we know we can trust. Mates, of course. Lovers if you plan on hanging around awhile. I don’t want any vengeful ex-girlfriends leading the Harbor Police our way. Blood relatives are good, if you have them.”
Quinn kept talking, ferreting out information, giving assignments as he went along. Casey had joined him at some point and was taking notes on everything. And all the while Quinn was strategizing, coming up with ways to make the Howth operation more profitable, part of his mind was mulling over this turn of events and trying to figure out how he felt about becoming a smuggler. Shit. Why had he wanted this job again?
QUINN SETTLED down early for his daylight sleep for a change. After the move to Dublin tomorrow night, there would be no more quiet nights for a while. He’d brought some financial reports to bed with him, thinking to catch up on the rest of the world, but the bed wasn’t comfortable enough for reading. Or maybe it was that he couldn’t relax enough to get comfortable. His mind wandered to Eve, wondering what she was doing. He probably wouldn’t see as much of her once he moved to Dublin, either. Unless she lost her mind and decided to start hunting in the city again. He thought he’d succeeded in scaring her off, but he’d no sooner had the thought than he knew he was fooling himself. Nothing he’d said, nothing he could say, would make a difference. Eve was an intelligent woman with a will of iron. And she was stubborn as hell. She’d go after Sorley simply to prove that she could. And she’d get herself killed.
Quinn (Vampires in America: The Vampire Wars Book 12) Page 17
