Forged in Flame

by Rabe, Michelle

  “You’ve done well, little Lilly,” the Master whispered as he tipped her chin up forcing her to look up at him.

  “Thank you, Sir,” she answered.

  “You did just fine. However, I can’t have anyone around who could lead the Assassin to me and my involvement with this situation.” The evil smile accompanying his words made her blood run cold.

  “What?” Lilly’s mind spun. He knows Nicholas? Nicholas abandoned me, in spite of the Covenant, choosing to be with another vampire over a living, breathing human.

  His hand tightened on her jaw, and her head snapped forward. “I get the feeling you are not paying attention to me, little Lilly.”

  “Forgive me, Sir.” Her voice a timid, trembling whisper.

  “I think not…” … were the last words Lilly ever heard.

  34 - San Francisco, CA - November 20, 2012

  Morgan strolled through the halls of the hospital, letting her long coat hide the fact that she wasn’t breathing. She hated hospital smells. They were antiseptic death, biting and unnatural to her delicate sense of smell. She sent a thin tendril of power into the surveillance cameras, manipulating the energy to blur the images as she passed. Smiling, she slipped into the stairwell, making her way to the basement. Her footsteps echoed through the empty hall as she crossed to the railing. Looking around her, to assure privacy, Morgan vaulted over the rail and dropped the few floors to the ground below. Feeling the power within her wake, uncoiling like a dragon after a long slumber, she grinned.

  Pushing through the door, she stepped into another empty hall, the hum of fluorescent lighting and equipment filtering through the walls. When taking a quick breath, the fetid scent of disease and death warred against antiseptics and bleach, creating a witch’s brew in her nose that threatened to make her sneeze. Again holding her breath, Morgan pretended she belonged there even though she wore black head to toe. Following Grace’s directions to the morgue, she found the right door.

  Morgan paused and closed her eyes, listening.

  After several seconds, she smiled, the room held nothing but corpses. She closed and locked the door behind her, blurring the camera with a thought. Morgan walked straight to the metal autopsy table and pulled back the sheet covering the latest body.

  The young was handsome; if not for the grayish pallor of his skin, he would have appeared asleep.

  Morgan checked her watch and tapped the toe of one foot, impatient. She had to wait for Jayson to finish the transformation before she could truly end him.

  The erratic heartbeat assaulted her ears, and after several moments the rhythm settled into something fast, but regular. Morgan stepped back as the young man on the table groaned.

  “I bet that hurts like a son of a bitch doesn’t it?” she asked, breaking the silence.

  “Where am I?”

  “I’d say you’re about an hour from your autopsy. See, Eric rushed the shots and just missed your spine. Since you’d just fed, your physiology was able to repair the damage, given the proper amount of time.”

  “Who the hell are you?” Jayson choked out, his voice rasping through the still healing ruin of his vocal chords.

  “Have you ever heard of the cleaners?” she asked, holding out a hand, palm facing up. She tilted her head to the right and smiled, as a small red-gold flame twisted up from the center of it.

  “Cleaners?” The newborn vampire sat up frowning.

  “Yes, in this case it refers to someone who comes in and fixes mistakes left behind by others. Most often employed by organized crime—or as you might know it—the mafia.” The smile that followed touched her eyes.

  “And just how are you going to fix me?” Jayson’s voice became a sneer, rough edges smoothing out and changing to something that could be charming if the words were correct.

  She shrugged and shook her head. “There’s no way to fix you.” Morgan stared, not at the vampire in front of her, but at the flame dancing on her palm. A little larger than a golf ball, the flames shifted in color from reds and oranges and then to something hotter, blues and whites but she didn’t feel a thing.

  “Then why are you here?”

  “To clean up your mess.” Her voice sounded sweet, but Morgan knew her eyes revealed a different story. It’s been a long time since I enjoyed killing someone.

  She directed her power inside the other vampire, a tiny bit into his heart. From there the heat would travel through every vein and capillary until it warmed every inch of his body. If she had time and the human world didn’t believe that Jayson had been killed, she would have left that modicum of power within him and allowed the heat to grow over days and weeks. The torture would intensify with each passing night until he sought the sun or his body could no longer repair the damage.

  Her lookout tapped on the door three times. Time was up. She needed to finish this.

  His eyes were wide as the color in his face rose. “You’re crazy.”

  Morgan blinked, realizing that Jayson hadn’t shut up. She ignored him. Smiling, she thrust her power at him, a wave of flame searing through his body, devouring him from the inside out. The flames burned so hot that when they burst through the skin, they flashed brightly for a split second and then died out. The flashes continued increasing in frequency but dimmed with each one until nothing remained of Jayson’s corpse, not even ashes.

  “Play with fire, and you’re bound to get burned,” she whispered before she turned and strolled back to the hall.

  “Is it done?” Zachary asked. The new Lord of San Francisco leaned against the opposite wall, a human orderly propped against it beside him.

  “It is. Jayson never existed.”

  Zachary smiled and stepped past the orderly, offering Morgan his free arm. “So, it appears that the late Samair’s wayward Blood Child simply disappeared as far as everyone is concerned.” The human slipped on the slick floor, the friction of his body and the wall slowing him.

  “Thus adding to the mystique of the Vampire Killer.” She shook her head and sighed. “It cannot be avoided.”

  “Do you believe young Eric made an error?” Zachary asked as Morgan looped her arm through his.

  “No.” She shook her head, leaving no doubt, as they began climbing the stairs. “A camera was involved, and you know how devastating something like that can be to us.”

  “Very true.” He frowned and opened the door for her. “Though I think a walking corpse might have proven more difficult to cover up.”

  Morgan stepped through as she said, “You do have a point.”

  “There is, however, a matter that I would like to discuss with you.”

  “I think I know where this is going.”

  “It’s about Nora.”

  “Yep. That is exactly where I thought this was headed.”

  “She’s incompetent, abrasive, under qualified, doesn’t care about Nomads at all, and… well, and to be completely honest. She’s a bitch.” He shook his head as if shaking out bad dreams.

  “Nicholas wanted me to assure you that Nora was never intended to be Daniel’s permanent replacement. She was always meant to fulfill a role and then, once she had outlived her usefulness…” Morgan shrugged as though expecting Zachary to know the rest.

  “Has that day come?”

  “Yes. She will be given a new posting where her attitude and lack of abilities can do very little or no harm. Her replacement is already aware of the situation and will step in immediately. He has also asked me to inform you that the Enforcers will be conducting a full investigation into the events of your Halloween Ball. He regrets that it has taken so long to begin, but The Order must be rooted out and exterminated.”

  The new Lord of San Francisco really smiled for the first time in days. “Please, tell Nicholai that the information and assistance is appreciated.”

  “We look forward to working with you in the future, Lord Zachary.”

  “Oh, God.” He put a hand to his throat. “Please, don’t get that started. I’d prefer you neve
r use that one in public.”

  “Well,” she chuckled, “you did challenge Samair and win. Therefore, thanks to centuries of tradition, you are the new Lord of the City.” She bumped her hip with his and laughed.

  “I don’t even want to think about that right now.” He groaned and opened the door to a long, black limousine for her.

  “If you need anything, you have my number.”

  “I do.” He patted the breast pocket of his well-tailored suit.

  “Good.” She stepped into the car, settling herself on the seat. As Zachary reached to close the door, she leaned forward and stopped it with her hand. “We look forward to working with you,” she said before leaning back and pulling the car door shut.

  Zachary stepped back on the sidewalk and watched the car wind its way through traffic, making a right turn at the end of the block and disappearing from sight.

  35 - Santa Cruz, CA - November 21, 2012

  Marcus stepped out of his rental car and looked around. Redwood trees that stretched high into the sky surrounded the quaint cabin. Off to the left a clearing allowed sunlight to filter through to the structure’s windows. He closed the car door and approached the cabin. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door and turned around, waiting.

  “You gonna come in Old Man or play which tree is older than me?” Nicholas said from behind him.

  “I don’t think trees live that long.”

  “These have been known to live about two thousand years.”

  “Damn, still not older than me.” Marcus sighed and turned to face the other vampire. “Nicholai, you know I don’t appreciate being summoned. Especially, since I retired.”

  “You know as well as I do that retirement is not an option.”

  “And you know that rule has been bent, if not broken before.”

  “You are a special case, Old Man.” Nicholas waved his friend’s words away as though the two century rift between them had never happened.

  “I’m not sure that begins to cover it.” Marcus replied stepping across the threshold.

  “I won’t argue with that.”

  He walked into the living room doing a full 360 degree turn. “What do you want with me, Assassin?”

  “I need you to take on a special assignment.”

  “Morgan doesn’t need twenty-four seven bodyguards anymore. I know you disagree but…”

  Nicholas held up his left hand and shook his head, interrupting Marcus before he could really get rolling. “That’s not what I’m asking.”

  “Then what?”

  “That scene you witnessed and reported to me? The one with the vampire who allowed himself to be killed?”

  “Yeah. What about it? Granted it was weird but,” he shrugged letting the thought hang.

  “We believe the woman is a Knight of The Order of the Black Rose.”

  “What?”

  “I also have reason to believe that she or another Knight might have killed Daniel.”

  “The Order’s been dead for centuries, Nicholai.”

  “Not so much. One of their number attacked Charles in Hollywood. There’s the attack you witnessed in New Orleans. We also have reports that I believe are linked to The Order from London, Rome, and Johannesburg. Possibly Daniel’s murder. Last and certainly not least, the attack on Zachary’s ball in San Francisco.”

  “I heard that was a botched assassination attempt. Whoever was behind it figured if they didn’t kill Zachary at the party, they’d let Samair take him out through seemingly legal measures under Council Law.” Marcus paused and tilted his head side to side a couple times.

  Nicholas sighed in relief and nodded. “Good, the cover-up is working.”

  “You’re lying to the populace about this?”

  “For now. I have to return to Ireland, and then the Council will meet on what actions we need to take moving forward. In the meantime, it seems foolish to release information that could cause panic and spread chaos.”

  “Well, shit. What do you need?” Marcus’s attitude had changed in a split second. He’d gone from borderline smart ass to all business; all the bravado and bluster had disappeared.

  “I need you to help me cull the Enforcers.”

  “What?” Marcus stepped back, eyes narrowed, he studied his one-time protégé.

  “We’re going to need a strong force to either take these guys out, or at the very least, down a notch. We have too many throwbacks, Enforcers who resist or flat out refuse to move into the modern world. If what I suspect about Daniel’s death is true, then their Knight somehow convinced him that she was a human and was interested in him. Last time we talked, he said that he had a date. When his car was found, there were indications that he had a passenger, but that person was never found, not by us or San Francisco PD.”

  “Shit.” Marcus started pacing the room, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “I can’t have people who aren’t open to new methods, or are generally incompetent, in my force. I’ve been able to let a few slide, stationed them away from most of the action. In some cases, I sent in Michael or Aidan if I couldn’t go myself when things got hairy.”

  “When you took the post, you said you wanted to be less bloodthirsty than the last Assassin,” Marcus said, being careful to avoid an accusing tone.

  “I have managed… up until now. But for this, I must be as ruthless and deadly as the folklore say we all are.” Nicholas nodded to himself, thoughts obviously elsewhere.

  “How many?”

  “Seven. Beginning with the puppet I put in place in San Francisco. Originally, I thought that relocating her would do, if she did a decent job. But I just got word from the new Lord of the City.” His shoulders slumped, and Nicholas shook his head.

  “From Zachary?”

  “Yes. He found some information in Samair’s papers that made it perfectly clear that our Enforcer was closer to Samair than was permissible. It appears she was the one who tipped the late Lord to the Laws of Hospitality and suggested that he twist them to kill Zachary.”

  “Shit.”

  “Indeed. Had I known she had such a mind, I may have been able to turn it to some use for the Council. However, that was not the case. She can no longer be trusted and must be dealt with accordingly.”

  “And the others?” Marcus asked, feeling as though the bottom of his stomach had fallen into a deep pit. What if some of the names are vampires I’ve worked with, considered friends? Can I do this? I know the greater good and all that blah, blah, blah, but we’re still talking about killing friends here.

  “Don’t worry, most of them are before your time and the few who aren’t, I believe you’ve referred to as complete idiots.”

  “I’m still not happy about being asked to do this.”

  “The Order killed thirty vampires with one stroke and tried to blame an innocent. Christophe and Morgan were almost among the dead. I know what the Council will do. They will bicker and dither and waste time playing politics or ignore the problem as if it will go away on its own. I do not like this any more than you do, but we do not have that kind of time, Marcus. It’s clear that The Order did not die out. They went so deep into hiding that we almost forgot about them.”

  “All right,” Marcus said with a heavy sigh. “I’ll do it.”

  “Thank you, my friend.” Nicholas put a hand on Marcus’s shoulder. “I hope this is the only time I have to call upon you to do something so distasteful.”

  “That’s what old retired Enforcers are for, I guess… taking out the rabble when it stinks.”

  “No. Marcus. Really. Thank you.”

  “Anytime.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “Enough shop talk. Any good bars around here?”

  “There’s a great one right here, but if you’d prefer to go out, I know of one or two close by.”

  “Out, definitely out. I need to find a woman or a fight.” Marcus ran his hands through his hair and laughed nervously before he added, “Maybe both.”

  Nicholas chuckled, feel
ing some of the tension leech away. “Should I warn my wife’s attorney that we might need to be bailed out?”

  “No. That’s for humans who get caught. We’re not going to get caught.”

  “Good thing I have his number in my phone contacts,” Nicholas grumbled as he picked up his coat and slung it over his shoulder.

  “Oh, come on, Assassin, where’s your sense of adventure?”

  “I think you and I have very different ideas of excitement, Old Man.”

  “We can debate this another time. For now, we get shit-faced and forget the whole world seems to be falling apart on us.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Nicholas led the way out of the cabin.

  EPILOGUE - Santa Cruz, CA - November 22, 2012

  Nicholas scanned the area and aside from the crowds on either side of the stairs leading to the massive neoclassical structure, he considered it a lovely day. The sun made a spectacular exit as it painted the sky in hues of red, gold, purple, and blue. He opened himself to every power that the Lead Enforcer possessed but remained on edge. They’d done this particular dog and pony show at least five times, and if the politicians on both sides had their way, they’d be doing it several more.

  Something on his right caught his attention, and he paused, brow furrowed. Focusing where he thought he’d seen the fading sunlight flash off metal, he couldn’t see anything. In the back of his mind, something tugged at his awareness. Uneasy about the situation, he turned to Morgan at the top of the stairs, her green eyes full of an unspoken question.

  It is nothing my love. He sent the thought to her though his sense of discomfort grew.

  “She’s supposed to be inside already,” Eric grumbled from his left.

  “You want to try and rush her in there?” Marcus countered.

  “No, but they can lock her out of the hearings,” Eric said as he scanned the crowd.

  “They won’t,” Christophe said.

  “Why’s that?” Marcus asked.