Forged in Flame

by Rabe, Michelle

  “Once you decide you’ve had enough of the foreplay.” Nicholas drew his own weapon, tossing the sheath to the ground and settling into a ready stance.

  “I’ve heard for decades, no, make that centuries, about how you’re a natural swordsman. Perhaps it is time I put the rumors to rest and see for myself.” Julian saluted and closed rank to meet the other vampire.

  They touched blades, and each took one step back.

  Nicholas struck out at Julian, a quick testing hit, to measure the other vampire’s skill. His blow had been answered by a quick block and counterattack. Nicholas tried not to smile as he blocked and disengaged.

  “Not bad. Not bad at all,” Julian said, his silver eyes holding no emotion, no spark of vitality.

  “Perhaps we should truly begin?” Nicholas suggested before he stepped forward and went on the attack.

  Eric ran through the alley, knowing he had to catch the human. Welcome to the nightmare… a headline flashing across their internal vampire news: Human with a smartphone catches a photo of a vampire feeding, or even better, a shot of me killing Jayson. He paused on the sidewalk and found the man running through the crowd, about a block ahead. Great, I can catch him without drawing too much attention.

  The young vampire started running again, pushing himself faster than normal but not full speed. Ahead, the human slowed to a walk, thinking he’d disappeared into the crowd. Perfect. Eric smiled as he closed within a few feet of his quarry. The man had the phone out and seemed to be texting or typing on the screen. Eric chuckled and rammed his shoulder into the man’s. Swearing, but unable to do anything, the guy watched the phone fly into the street; a moment later a red sports car crushed it beneath its shiny black tires.

  “Hey asshole! You owe me a new phone.” The guy rounded on Eric.

  “Sorry man,” the young vampire slipped past him and turned down a deserted side street.

  “Don’t give me sorry. What the Hell am I supposed to do now?” The guy followed, chatting all the way.

  “It was an accident,” Eric insisted glancing over his shoulder. He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and hunched his shoulders.

  “Accident, my ass,” the human shrieked. “You owe me a new phone!”

  Eric closed his eyes and listened to the city around him. The only noises he heard were the sounds of small animals scurrying through the shadows and cars on the more heavily traveled adjacent street. He smiled and slowed his gait, letting the angry man catch up with him.

  “Hey asshole! I’m talking to you!”

  Sensing a hand on his shoulder, Eric spun on the human who wanted to face off. “You really don’t want to push this. Just forget about your phone.”

  “Fuck you, man!” The guy spat at Eric’s feet and sized him up. On the second pass, Eric smiled, not bothering to keep the tips of his fangs hidden. “What the fuck?” The human stepped away.

  “I warned you.” Eric shook his head and reached out to grab a handful of the guy’s shirt. “But you wouldn’t listen. You had to be a macho asshole. Is a phone worth your life?” Before the human had a chance to answer, Eric struck, sinking his fangs deep into the man’s carotid artery. He drank fast, drawing the man’s blood out in great long gulps. After the man had passed out, he dropped the body. He knelt and pulled his dagger, slashing the man’s throat. His vampiric strength made it a simple matter, the wound would finish the man off and hide the wounds his fangs made. Eric sheathed his dagger and started jogging back to the alley, he didn’t want to possibly distract Nicholas by sending a text or calling when he might not be able to answer or reply.

  Julian fell back while holding Nicholas at bay. The Assassin’s blade appeared from nowhere to inflict small wounds which had been aimed to hinder Julian’s defense. The elder vampire bled from several cuts as he went on the offensive, countering Nicholas’s finesse with brute strength. Julian pushed his opponent across the roof toward the edge.

  “Is this all that you have to offer, Assassin?” Julian taunted with false bravado.

  “Why are you doing this, Julian?” Nicholas asked. He settled in for a long fight, keeping his movements to a minimum.

  “Doing what?”

  “Helping your Sire.” Nicholas dropped his voice to a hissing whisper, “ Lucian tortured Morgan, your own Blood Daughter.”

  Julian’s brows had lifted for a fraction of a second before he said, “He is my Sire.”

  “So you now condone torture?”

  After a moment of hesitation, he said, “She has recovered.”

  “Do not be so certain of that.” Nicholas hesitated but continued his attack, flicking quick, precise blows aimed at pushing the elder vampire to his physical limits. “I know my wife, and she has not completely recovered.” He wasn’t sure what kind of an effect the verbal assault would have on Julian but, Nicholas would take any advantage he could get.

  “If she has not fully recovered, how do you think she will handle it if you kill her Sire?”

  “She knows what must be done.” Julian let down his guard, and Nicholas saw an opening. Before he spun, sliding his blade down Julian’s to the hilt, he whispered something unrecognizable.

  With his free hand, Nicholas drew his dagger and slashed the other vampire’s throat. The blade slipped into flesh with a moment of hesitation before it sliced through, then Nicholas felt the drag as it cut.

  Julian stumbled back and though the blade had bit into his flesh, the cut wasn’t deep enough to do fatal damage to the elder vampire. Julian clamped his hand over the wound as Nicholas turned and slammed the dagger into Julian’s chest, above his heart.

  Enraged, Julian pulled his own dagger and thrust it into the other vampire’s gut, and opened a long wound across his torso.

  Nicholas cried out and stumbled back, clutching his stomach, watching Julian, ready to strike again. The elder vampire’s hands were locked over two wounds, the one at his throat covered by a fine linen handkerchief.

  “We will finish this another time, Assassin,” Julian spat.

  “No.” Nicholas swore, “We will finish this now.” He stepped toward Julian as a scream tore through his psyche. His mind reeled, vision swam in and out of focus, and oblivion rushed up to meet him.

  Nicholas dropped to his knees, sword falling to the ground with a clatter, trying to hold back the black tide.

  Smiling at his good fortune, Julian stepped up behind Nicholas, raising his saber and waiting for the moment when the so-called Assassin noticed his precarious situation. He waited for the Master’s voice in his head, the flash of triumph, but nothing came. Silence reigned over the early morning.

  Nicholas remained on his knees, fingers digging into his scalp as though he could rip out the offending parts of his mind by burrowing into his skull.

  As the sword swung, a memory flashed in Julian’s mind.

  Morgan knelt at her family’s graves, the lone survivor of what had once been a proud and powerful clan, a promising newborn vampire keening her grief into the otherwise silent night. The haunting sound chilled him to the bone, recalling tales of banshees and the restless dead.

  Unable to look away, Julian walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. When her stare locked onto his, he thought the scarlet lines on her cheeks were tracks of her tears. They weren’t, they were marks scored into her flesh by her own nails, four tracks on each side of her face from just below her eyes to the jaw.

  What am I doing? A tiny voice in the back of his mind fought with his current course.

  It was too late, the blade was set on its course…

  The path took it through Nicholas’s spine.

  Eric stepped onto the roof, taking in the scene but not really comprehending what his eyes were seeing. Finally, his training kicked in and he reacted. The gun in his hand had been aimed before his mind caught up with his body. He sighted down the barrel and found the target, squeezing the trigger on an exhalation of breath his body no longer required.

  The bullet slammed into J
ulian’s wrist spraying blood, sinew and bone. When the elder vampire reacted, Eric shifted his aim and sighted on his target’s chest.

  “You,” Julian said with a hiss. Moving faster than Eric could follow, Julian used his good hand to pull Nicholas’s dagger from his chest. He tested its weight and balance, not taking his eyes off Eric. “Are a nuisance.” Julian let the dagger fly, though not the proper weapon, his years of practice made up for it.

  Eric dived to the left, dodging the blade. He came up on one knee in the space between heartbeats. The dagger clattered to the roof and skidded to a halt a few feet from him. His eyes scanned the area, searching for Julian, but the other vampire had vanished. Eric swung in a full 360, making certain that they were alone on the roof before crossing to Nicholas.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, putting a hand on the other vampire’s shoulder to get his attention. When Nicholas didn’t react, Eric knelt and took him by the shoulders, trying to see his face. “Shit,” he whispered, seeing the long scratches running down Nicholas’s cheeks. Not knowing what else to do, Eric snapped his fingers several times in front of the Lead Enforcer’s eyes.

  Nicholas blinked once, a slow movement, down and back up before the storm gray eyes focused. The former detective stood holding out his hand. Nicholas accepted the offer and pulled himself to his feet.

  “Call Morgan.” The words were flat, the order clear.

  Eric dialed Morgan’s phone and waited. The line rang four times before it went to voicemail. Hiding his own frustration and mounting fear, Eric hit end and slid the phone back into his pocket.

  Nicholas closed his eyes and sighed. “She didn’t answer?”

  “She’s at Zachary’s trial. It’s possible she has it on silent. Let’s get back to the house,” Eric said. “We need to get out of here before the cops arrive.”

  “Morgan. I have to get to Morgan,” Nicholas insisted pushing away from Eric. His knees gave out, and he almost crumpled to the ground. Eric caught his elbow and brought him back to his feet instead.

  “If something’s wrong, you’re not going to be of any help to her this way. You’ll be a liability.” When Nicholas started to protest, Eric shook his head. “Not happening. For once, you’re going to listen to me.”

  “I am your elder.” Each word enunciated so the meaning could not be confused.

  Eric let out a derisive snort and shook his head. “And right now I can kick your ass.”

  “Only because I’m wounded.”

  “Details, details,” Eric griped as he made his way toward the fire escape on the opposite side of the building.

  Grace drove her sedan up to the perimeter of the crime scene and shut the engine off. To her left, stood a crowd of lookie-loos, reporters, and photographers all trying to spot a piece of the action from behind the line of blue-clad uniformed officers. I wonder who got the call first? The press or emergency services? She approached the yellow tape line and flashed her shield. A uniformed officer nodded and raised the tape for her to enter the area.

  “What have we got?” she asked without preamble.

  “Looks like someone came out here for a good time and ran into the vamp killer instead.”

  “Don’t use that name.” Grace rolled her eyes. “Especially where the press can hear you.”

  “Copy that, Inspector.” He shrugged, but she knew the name wasn’t going to go away anytime soon. “Besides, paramedics are working on the vic.”

  “The vic is still alive?” she asked, breaking a smile when the officer nodded. Grace glanced at the name tag on the officer’s uniform. “Thanks, Scott.”

  “Anytime, Inspector,” Scott answered, but Grace had moved on approaching the activity at the end of the alley.

  As she walked, she pulled out the smartphone Eric had given her and texted him that the last victim was, in fact, alive and she would keep him posted with updates as soon as possible. Once she got the confirmation that the message had been delivered, she turned the phone off and slipped it back into her pocket.

  This is not good. Watching the paramedics wheel a young man on a stretcher, she realized the victim might not make it to the hospital. Hooked up to a portable machine that monitored his vital signs., his neck was covered in bandages and it was obvious he’d been through Hell. She stepped out of the way of one of the medics talking into his two-way radio with the hospital emergency room. Grace couldn’t understand everything the medic said, but she knew from the look on his and his partner’s faces it wasn’t good.

  For the first time in her years as a cop and detective, she hoped the person on the gurney didn’t survive. That would open a Pandora’s Box that no one wants to see inside.

  She stepped up beside her partner and nodded toward the ambulance. “What have we got?”

  “Looks like another one of the vamp killer victims. Though he left this one alive for some reason.”

  “Who called it in?”

  “The guy over talking to Phelps.” Lassiter nodded toward the new inspector.

  “What is he saying?”

  “Said he heard something that sounded like a loud pop. Saw a flash over here at the end of the alley. Then, apparently a guy was seen being chased by someone in one of those generic touristy type hoodies. The pair of them went racing down the street and our witness lost them when they turned right at the light. I’ve got a tech looking to see if any traffic cams captured footage. Our bright guy witness decided to check out the alley and found our vic, Braden Costa, bleeding out from a wound to the throat. The other guy, who we don’t have an ID on, was dead on scene, shot through the throat and heart. The witness finally decided to call and report it.”

  I need to get the name of that witness. I’m sure Eric and his people are going to want to have a little chat with him. Is that chat going to be lethal? What am I thinking? I can’t turn a fellow human being over to the vampires.

  “Inspector, is everything all right?”

  She blinked several times in quick succession and shook her head. “Yeah, sorry. This one’s just got me weirded out, you know,” she said, “with talk of vampires and all.”

  “Sometimes I forget you’re from New Orleans. Got any insight into vampires?” His tone mocking, but she knew every inspector took each new death as a personal affront. Sounds like Eric and his people got to Jayson, but why did they leave Braden alive and Jayson’s corpse around for us? There’s something strange about the guy they chased? But what? They’ve left a body behind to be picked up by our medical examiner’s office. Not good. I thought they were supposed to cover this shit up?

  “Hello, earth to Inspector Callahan. If you’re not into this tonight, I can have someone else brought in.”

  “No. I’m good.” Grace shook her head and shoulders as if removing the fog, and she focused on doing her job. Which, in this case, is making sure that no one suspects what’s really going on. Pulling on a pair of blue latex gloves, her eyes roved over the scene, examining it for evidence.

  Across town, a woman stepped out of her car and smoothed her black pencil skirt before closing the door and watching as the silent driver pulled away.

  The dark, rundown building sent a chill running through her as she stared up at it. She took a deep breath, exhaled and inhaled again before settling her bag on her shoulder. Striding to the door, high heels tapping out a steady staccato rhythm, it sounded more confident than she felt.

  Lilly stepped up to the double doors and knocked three times, hard, before stepping back to wait. Unable to remain still, she reached up and fluffed her long chestnut hair as time seemed to come to a complete stop. A few seconds later, a short, loud, obnoxious buzzing and loud click broke the silence.

  Wrinkling her nose, she pushed open the door with the tips of her well-manicured fingers. She picked her way through the debris that littered the floor, tiptoeing because she didn’t trust her stilettos on the fragile floor. After what seemed like forever, she reached the open door at the end of the hall.

  The Master, she
thought she’d heard the name Lucian mentioned.

  He had promised her the immortality she craved. Sitting with his back to the door, in an antique chair, one hand draped over the arm, he held a mask with an impossibly long, hooked nose. She took three steps into the room and stopped. Knowing she shouldn’t, but unable to stop herself from glancing around the room, her heart sank. The only concessions to luxury or comfort were the chair the Master sat in, and a large flat screen television. Her gaze drifted back where he sat. Lilly’s heart skipped a beat before thundering in her ears as though she’d been running.

  Afraid to look beyond the Master in his chair, she hadn’t noticed the man sitting a few feet from him in a basic, straight-backed wooden chair. His arms were bound behind his back, legs lashed together and secured to a rope that ran under the chair locking his ankles to his wrists in a sort of seated hogtie. More rope wrapped around the man’s chest and torso held him in place. Across his face a strip of silver duct tape covered his mouth but failed to conceal bruises and small cuts. His denim blue eyes were wide with a mixture of defiance and fear, his red hair disheveled.

  The Master stood, dropped the mask to the floor, turned and approached her. Without hesitation, Lilly knelt and dropped her gaze to the floor. “I do hope you have what I sent you out for, little pet.”

  “I do, Sir,” she said, reaching into her purse to retrieve the camera.

  “Excellent,” the Master cooed. He took the recorder from her, and strolled to the utilitarian table that held the television. Faster than her eyes could see, he hooked up the camera and started the tape.

  “Sir?” she asked. Pain blossomed in her knees, but she didn’t dare get up.

  He didn’t look at Lilly, not acknowledging her presence at all, his eyes focused on the video. She remained in place, eyes closed, chin falling to her chest, numbness in her legs… waiting for him to finish. Telling herself that the pain wouldn’t last and his promise would be fulfilled, she reveled in the idea that she would become a vampire and live forever. Unaware of how much time passed, she waited until she heard the sounds of his footsteps on the carpet, coming closer to her.