Darkest Before The Dawn (The Second Dark Ages Book 3)

by Michael Anderle

  Eve turned back to her computer, sensing Yuko’s eyes still on her and hoping that her point had been received.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Peckham, England

  Noah, George, and Thomas all stood on the small stage in the warehouse, with seventeen men and four women at the tables in front of them. George moved to the center and raised his hand as the afternoon sun shone through the antique glass on the second level, bathing the old brick warehouse in natural light.

  George waved to his two partners to the center with him. “We all appreciate you coming on such quick notice.” He hitched his thumbs in his belt. “I know most of you have your ears to the ground to find the next vampire and get one of our bounties.”

  There was general murmuring in the group, which George allowed to die down for a moment.

  “Well,” he continued, “we have good information about two.”

  “You’re going after the Dark Messiah?” Alfie Cimmons called. Tina, who was next to Alfie, slugged him in the arm.

  George frowned at the outburst. “Alfie, keep your mouth shut or we will have to sew it shut for you. Wait until my message is over and then ask.” He returned his attention to the whole group. “All of you know about Europe’s Duke, and now most of you know about the one called the Dark Messiah. This one’s an addition to the list. None of us have heard of him before so we are thinking he must be relatively new, but he is very powerful. If you believe,” he looked around at the tables of bounty hunters, “even half the rumors, he can call down lightning out of the sky and walk on water.”

  The chuckles around the room were mirrored by the three on the stage. “I know,” George continued, “enough lead will make anyone drop to the bottom of the lake.”

  “Nothing out there I’ve ever fought,” a guy named Henry commented to no one in particular, “was able to ignore a judicious application of lead poisoning.”

  “Or a shit-ton of fire,” the woman next to Henry added.

  George put up his hands. “Noted, and I think we all agree. However, none of us are here because we are stupid. We have two powerful vampires that need to be captured.”

  Noah spoke up from behind George. “Preferably painfully.”

  “Very,” Thomas agreed. “No telling how many innocent humans have been eaten by them in the dark of the night.”

  George turned to look at his two partners. “Well, it’s definitely the darkest before the dawn.”

  “And dawn kills,” three of the bounty hunters called out.

  “For those who are willing to join us, we will have three teams. One with Noah, one with Thomas, and one with me. Everyone will be outfitted with blood for the fights.”

  Thomas spoke up. “Which we will sign out to you, and if you don’t need it, we will charge you for it.”

  Several laughed. Trying to keep an extra vial of vamp blood was a damned game for the bounty hunters. The blood-baggers would charge them eventually, but every once in a while, if you got clean away, the extra vials could save your ass.

  “How many vials we going to be issued?” Henry asked.

  George turned to answer him. “Each person will have five.”

  Henry whistled. Five was unheard of. “The good shit?”

  “Yeah,” Tina called back. “I don’t want the cheap pansy blood you sell to the little jerkwads trying to play ‘big man on their block.’”

  “Listen,” Thomas answered from behind George, “each of us will be leading a squad, so we don’t want you sucking wind in the middle of the fight.”

  “We will all,” George finished, “be packing the good stuff.”

  Yokohama, Japan

  The black box landed in the corner of a lush green park. Mark was the first to exit, a renewed spring in his step. He looked back at the container, waiting for the others to disembark almost like a terrier waiting for his owners to take him for a walk.

  Yuko was the next one out, her sword strapped across her back for the first time in several weeks. It felt strange, having hardly worn it for so many decades and then to have been battle-ready constantly during the days with Michael.

  She shook her head, noticing how different she was feeling since embracing the less than diplomatic side of her. It was no longer an intellectual conversation with her friends, but rather it integrated into a new way of seeing herself and her role in the world.

  She wandered across the grass, taking in the skyline of the city of Yokohama juxtaposed against the immediate surroundings of the manicured gardens.

  She inhaled the clean air and the fragrance of grass mixed with blossoms, remembering how much she had loved her time here, training in the mornings and evenings with Kashikoi and working on her projects with Eve in the afternoons.

  While Akio had always given the impression that he had just been waiting, she really felt she had managed to live some semblance of a life despite the loneliness. And no matter what dangers they might face now that things were heating up with Michael’s return, she had no regrets.

  Jacqueline tumbled out of the black container as she scrambled to strap her holsters and weapons to her body, clearly not thrilled to have her dirty weekend plans interrupted. And yet, secretly she now had a sense of purpose. Not just born of honor, but a real desire to get back in the saddle with the next mission and achieve something.

  Not that she was going to admit it to Mark.

  Eve jumped down after her, closing the door remotely by whatever synaptic connection she had with the box. “Remember where we’re going?” she called to Yuko.

  Yuko nodded. “It’s been a while, but yes, I remember,” she confirmed, striding across the green carpet of grass toward a main path. The others followed her, feeling a little surreal at being in the middle of a gunfight one minute, lakeside the next, and now in a beautiful Utopian park.

  Jacqueline hurried to catch up with Mark. “You’re excited about all this, aren’t you?”

  Mark looked suddenly defensive. “Well, it’s extraordinary. But it doesn’t mean I’m any less excited about us,” he clarified, slinging one arm around her shoulder as they walked.

  Yuko led them through the park and onto a main street with cars running along and above it. She found the nearest crossing, then led them deeper into the maze of buildings and skyscrapers. After a while, they found themselves in an area of town that wasn’t quite as pristine as the park where they had landed.

  Yuko slowed and called, “Just down here on the left.” The group closed the spaces between them, suddenly more alert.

  Jacqueline felt Yuko’s attention sharpen. Her head started moving more often, presumably looking for signs of trouble. “Thought we were going to see a friend of hers,” she whispered to Mark.

  Mark raised his eyebrows. “Suppose it depends on your definition of friend,” he retorted, using his first two fingers on each hand to air quote the word “friend”.

  Jacqueline drew a deep breath. “I guess so…” she said, suddenly not feeling at all comfortable about what they might be walking into.

  Yuko stopped outside an inconspicuous door between a disused computer hardware shop on one side and a shuttered shop front on the other. She flicked her attention up and then down the street.

  There wasn’t a soul around.

  There hadn’t been for about three blocks now.

  Jacqueline unsnapped her holsters, thinking that a gun would be less messy than claws in the close-quarter environment they were heading into.

  Mark clenched and unclenched his fists, getting ready to move if he had to.

  Yuko took a breath and then marched up the two stone steps to the white door with its peeling paint. She rapped decisively on it and waited.

  Nothing.

  She tried the handle.

  It opened.

  Yuko started to glance back as if to look to the others for reassurance, but then breathed in her own courage and pushed through the door into the darkened hallway.

  The others followed.

  Once inside
she took a few paces forward, then paused for her eyes to adjust to the dimness.

  There was a smell of damp in the air, and a hint of old food. She stood still, waiting. Listening.

  There was a cough from upstairs. Her head tilted upward, still waiting.

  Mark could hear her elevated heart rate.

  “Hello?”

  There was another cough and a shuffling. And then a muffled voice responded, “Come.”

  Yuko seemed to relax a little once she took off her boots. As she headed to the stairs and started climbing, holstering her Jean Dukes. Three steps up, she turned to her friends. “Probably best you wait down here for a few.”

  Eve nodded and stepped back off the first step, then turned to look at Mark and Jacqueline as the Diplomat walked up the staircase. After arriving at the top she headed left, farther into the building, and disappeared from view.

  —

  “Konnichiwa,” she said, bowing at the door and then entering the clean, spartan training room.

  “Konnichiwa, Yuko,” the old man replied. His quiet voice traveled through the space as if powered by some unearthly force. Or chi. There was a moment of silence as Yuko paused, acclimatizing.

  His voice traveled to her again. “To what do I owe this honor?”

  Yuko approached the kamiza side of the dojo where he was seated. “The honor is mine,” Yuko responded, bowing in respect to her old comrade.

  The old man struggled to his feet stiffly. He returned the bow, then used his wooden walking stick to support his weight as he sat back down on his cushion.

  He motioned for her to join him.

  Yuko picked up a cushion from a pile in the corner and dragged it over to place herself directly in front of the old man. She sat down and breathed, becoming present with her old friend. “How are you, Kashikoi?”

  “Better in health than temper, my dear,” he said, smiling sagely. “It’s been quite a while since I saw you last. How go your projects?”

  Yuko relaxed as they talked, catching him up with some of what she had been doing. They chatted for several minutes before Kashikoi brought them around to the obvious question. “What brings you back after all these years?”

  Yuko shifted her crossed legs, considering where to start. She found her place and took a deep breath. “As the keeper of knowledge of the Sacred Clan, I have supported your quest to grow your following of the worthy and to maintain your secret.”

  Kashikoi closed his eyes and bowed his head. “For which I am very grateful.”

  Yuko bowed slightly in acknowledgment before continuing. “You’re welcome,” she told him. “But I come to you with new information which may change our agreement.”

  Kashikoi’s face remained unchanged. “Our agreement for you not to ask and for me not to lie to you?”

  Yuko nodded. “Hai.”

  Kashikoi’s old face cracked into a smile as he paused to consider the prospect. “What is the new information?”

  Yuko lowered her eyes. “The Patriarch has returned. And now he needs to reassemble the ship.”

  Kashikoi’s face became grave. “You know I keep that knowledge from falling into the wrong hands,” he responded, his tone taking on the weight of thunder.

  Yuko was undeterred. “Yes, I know. And I have always supported that. But Michael’s are not the wrong hands.”

  “But there are forces still active in these regions,” he protested. “Forces who would take this knowledge and this technology and exploit it for their own ends.” His manner remained sage and mostly gentle, but Yuko recognized the passion that burned in his eyes. This had been his project longer than most people had lived.

  Yuko softened her tone. “This is true. But with Michael returned, these threats are no longer a risk to the knowledge or the technology.”

  The old man sighed, contemplating this unprecedented and unanticipated change in the status quo.

  Yuko remained silent.

  Eventually, he asked hesitantly, “What assurances do I have? That this will not end up in the wrong hands,” he qualified.

  Yuko thought for a moment, keeping her face expressionless in the negotiation. There was a slight glint in her eye for a moment before she spoke again. “Your followers…you trust them?”

  Kashikoi nodded. “Of course. When I leave this mortal coil, they will maintain the ‘vallitseva tila.’”

  Yuko nodded her understanding. “Yes, dedication to the vallitseva tila must be continued. So, do I assume that your willingness to leave them as the sole protectors means that you might send them as your proxies to assist my team and me in securing the relics?”

  She paused, letting the old man contemplate the idea. “You always said you relished the idea that one day they might be brought together again, all other things being equal,” she added, this time allowing a warm smile to grace her lips.

  The old man put up a final defense against her logic. “I did,” he agreed, “but things are not equal. The Chinese government still has some knowledge of the components, and as long as individuals in their ranks lust for power and profit, there will always be a risk.”

  Yuko returned her expression to neutral. “And if your followers are able to mitigate that risk, along with my own assurances, under the protection of the Patriarch?”

  The old man looked across the dojo, his eyes unfocused as if imagining the possibilities. Eventually, he returned his gaze to Yuko. “Then it would be a wonderful thing to see,” he confessed. He sighed a little, leaning forward in confidence with his old friend. “My concern is not that you are true to your word, but that the forces you will face are too great.”

  Yuko considered his words for a moment, then stood, turned, and walked out.

  He heard her voice call down the stairs, and then she returned to the room, bowing again on entry. She waited near the door as three other individuals appeared. She instructed two of them to bow on entry out of respect for the training space, and then led them over to where they had been talking.

  “These,” she said, presenting the three, “are my friends. My allies in this pursuit. Eve, you know.”

  Eve bowed her head to the old man, who returned it with a nod.

  Yuko indicated Jacqueline, who waved. “This is Jacqueline and her partner Mark.” Mark bowed quickly and awkwardly, improvising.

  Kashikoi acknowledged each of them and turned his attention back to Yuko.

  Yuko was wearing a slight smile, her conventional poker face unconventionally neglected. “Perhaps you would like some of your disciples to come up here and see if this is a team they would find adequate for the challenges we might face.”

  Kashikoi looked the four of them up and down, moving his eyes from one to another. He stamped his stick on the floor three times and continued to regard the three newcomers.

  A few seconds later a horde of agile young fighters in traditional gear jogged into the training space.

  Yuko’s smile didn’t falter. She counted at least twenty of them and glanced at the others. All of a sudden this was becoming exciting for them, after too many moments standing around waiting.

  Kashikoi regarded Yuko again. “Are you sure you want your friends to be a part of this?”

  Yuko looked at her team, who were already preparing, discretely limbering up where they stood. She nodded and joined the old man where he sat.

  Kashikoi nodded his head, hiding his surprise that she didn’t feel compelled to help her allies in the test.

  “Very well.” He lifted his voice so the others could hear clearly. “Open hand combat only. No drawing blood. Whoever is left standing is the winner.”

  Jacqueline frowned. “What does he mean by ‘open hand combat only?’” she whispered loudly.

  Eve translated for her. “It means no weapons.”

  Mark sighed. “Oh, well. And the ‘no blood’ means no teeth either?”

  Eve nodded. “That’s right. Think you can restrain yourself?” She smirked at him.

  Mark chuckled. “It�
�s not me you need to worry about. It’s her,” he said, winking and tilting his head in Jacqueline’s direction.

  Jacqueline scoffed. “Don’t you worry about me, Geek-boy! I’m the picture of reserve.”

  Kashikoi leaned closer to Yuko to speak with her. She crouched to put her ear at his level. “Do they always talk this much?”

  She laughed. “Yes. They’re from a different discipline,” she explained, standing up again.

  “Discipline?” Kashikoi muttered. “Interesting choice of words.”

  He knocked his stick on the ground once and his squad of fighters sprang into action. Some charged. Others performed jump-kicks and shouted intimidatingly.

  Yuko’s team countered their attacks either by stepping aside or allowing individual fighter-boys to land inelegantly on their fists.

  The exercise lasted about forty seconds, during which time Jacqueline actually tossed one of the larger humans to Mark, saying “Here you go, honey. Try not to break him too much when you put him down.”

  When all movement had subsided, the three stood on the same side of the room where they had started, with a carpet of bodies strewn around them.

  Kashikoi, maintaining a neutral expression as much as he could, leaned on his stick and hauled himself to his feet. “Did they leave any of them alive?” he asked, confounded by the display and now looking to Yuko for an explanation of how this was possible.

  Mark cocked his head and listened for a moment before answering. “They’re all alive,” he confirmed casually.

  Kashikoi nodded and wandered onto the training floor as if inspecting the damage up close was going to make his decision easier.

  He turned and looked at Yuko. “Very well. You can take some of the disciples of the vallitseva tila and start gathering the knowledge.”

  Yuko bowed respectfully, accepting her victory.

  Before Jacqueline or Mark could speak and potentially undo her diplomatic efforts, she quickly requested they wait downstairs, telling them she would follow shortly.