Angeles Betrayal

by Michael Pierce

  “What does that mean?” she asked, her bright blue eyes gazing up at me as I approached.

  “It was intended for you to live here, but you don’t have to. It’s one hundred percent yours, so you can live here, rent it out, or sell it if you so wish. There are no obligations or expectations—just that you were given enough to live comfortably, whether it be here, or you use the money from here to live somewhere else.”

  “This would be a little bit more than living comfortably.”

  “You can afford certain luxuries now.”

  “Did you do this?”

  “Every new initiate is granted comfortable accommodations,” I said. “But I did specifically choose this place for you. It’s been vacant for over a year and I’ve been saving it for when I could ultimately give it to you.”

  “We didn’t even know each other a year ago.”

  I reached forward and took her hand. “I’ve known you for a lifetime.” I pulled her into me and her lips were on mine as soon as my arms were firmly wrapped around her lovely body.

  As soon as our lips parted, she nuzzled into my chest, squeezing me tight. “I can’t believe all this. It’s too much. It’s too unbelievable…”

  “More unbelievable than vampires roaming the free world?” I laughed.

  “It’s all too unbelievable,” she said, her voice hitching.

  “Then you’ll be even more excited to learn there’s more?”

  She bolted off me, her wide eyes focused solely on me. “I think I’m gonna have to sit down.”

  “How about in the driver’s seat of your new SUV?” I asked with a wry smile.

  “Shut up!” she exclaimed.

  “The keys are on the kitchen counter.”

  “It’s not the one you parked next to, is it?”

  “Those two spots are yours, so yeah—the other Land Rover is your new ride—Society-issued, which means it’s got a few special bells and whistles.”

  “Like a James Bond car.”

  “Sure.”

  Fiona was glancing back inside, so I headed for the kitchen and tossed her the electronic keyring with its two identical clickers. The girl I’d met six months earlier might have fumbled with the keys, but the girl standing before me now snatched them from the air with ease.

  She plopped down on one of the bar stools, gazing intently at the clickers, almost as if trying to determine if they were real or not. A good whole minute passed before she turned her attention back to me. “This is insane,” she said. “I don’t even know what to say.”

  “So… was this a pleasant surprise?” I asked, leaning on the opposite side of the counter, my elbows against the granite.

  “An amazing surprise.”

  “Oh, and there’s one more thing.” I grabbed another key from the countertop and slid it over to her. “This is to a safety deposit box at the bank where we opened your account at the beginning of the summer. It contains a few important items and emergency funds. And when you check your account balance, you’ll find there’s a little bit more money in there than last time.”

  “What’s a little bit?”

  “A couple million—enough to get you started,” I said, giving her a sly smile. “In your safety deposit box, you’ll find more account numbers to other banks, mostly offshore accounts to keep the bulk of your money diversified.”

  “The bulk of my money? I thought you said there were a couple of million dollars in my account here?” She seemed to be having a difficult time processing what I was telling her, which I found cute and amusing.

  “Yeah; that’s what I said. See, there are some perks to being in the True North Society. It’s not all doom and gloom. Got to live it up while we still can.” I thought of our failed attempt to take down Damien Galt, which I’d known from the beginning would be futile. The events of the vampire rise and rebellion were quickly approaching; there’d be a short window before everything went to hell. I wanted her to at least feel like a queen for a little while, before the kingdom collapsed around us.

  “Are you trying to buy my love?” Fiona bit her lower lip, her eyes expectant.

  “You know what that does to me when you do that,” I said, a soft growl coming from the back of my throat.

  She nodded, shyly.

  “Then, stop it before I can’t hold back.”

  “Maybe I don’t want you to.” Her response was breathless and only slightly above a whisper.

  I took a deep breath, trying to calm my urges. I knew I should have had some blood back at my apartment; the thirst was rising fast and her sweet skin looked so inviting with the slightest sheen of sweat glistening off her neck.

  “I think it would be wise for us to get some food in our stomachs first,” I said, forcing my attention away from the milky white skin of her neck. “Would you like to take your new car for a spin?”

  Her lips curled into a mischievous smile, the disappointment in her eyes fading. “I don’t think you can handle my driving,” she said.

  “Challenge accepted, my love.”

  6

  Susan

  I’d been waiting fifteen minutes for Mr. Gibbins to arrive; I was almost ready to leave when I finally saw him walking in through the front door of the Argentine restaurant. I had just gotten off the phone with Clementine Biel, who had given me a status on their security detail after the recent assassination attempt in LA. Matthew Mercer had been identified as one of the members of the strike team; I wasn’t surprised—it hadn’t been the first time, and presumably, wouldn’t be the last. We had to remain a few steps ahead of him and his fortune tellers.

  Seated in one of the high-backed booths in the far corner, I had a good view of the entire restaurant. The only people who could sneak up on me would be patrons I’d already seen head into the restroom—and there was currently no one in either of them. I typically chose this restaurant because it only got busy on certain nights. After the dinner rush on a night like tonight, the restaurant emptied quickly.

  As I finished my third glass of water, I raised a hand to call Mr. Gibbins over; he’d never seen my face before. He’d submitted his online application—including his photograph—and we’d spoken a few times over the phone, but this was the first time we’d be meeting in person. He was a tall and lanky man, with dark brown hair that curled up around his ears. His nose and chin came to sharp points, and his eyes glowed an unnatural amber.

  “Miss Winter, I presume,” Mr. Gibbins said as he approached the table. “Is it Miss or Mrs?”

  “Ms. will be fine,” I said.

  “So, you’re not married,” he said, sliding into the opposite side of the booth. “Is there a special man in your life?”

  “One who might be interested to hear where this conversation is going,” I said, sharply.

  “I don’t mean to offend, but you’re quite the lovely young lady.”

  “I look older than you,” I said, allowing a small smile to lighten the mood.

  “Looks can often be deceiving,” he said, his amber eyes glistening.

  I noticed the waiter coming from halfway across the restaurant, so I waited for him to take our initial order before starting our real conversation.

  “Sir, may I start you off with a drink?”

  Mr. Gibbins didn’t even glance at a menu. “A house Sauvignon, please.”

  “And for you, ma’am?”

  “I’ll stick with my water.”

  “Any appetizers?”

  “Just another bowl of bread. We won’t be eating,” I said.

  “Okay; I’ll get more bread and the cab right away.” In a flash, the waiter maneuvered past the other tables and disappeared into the kitchen.

  “We’re taking up this nice corner booth at this fine restaurant, and you’re not even going to order a meal? Just water and free bread?”

  “Would you eat if I ordered something?”

  “I could but would rather save my money.”

  “Which is what I figured,” I said. “There’s no reason f
or me to order a fine meal if I’m just going to be eating alone. This particular waiter may be new, but several of the others know me. I come here often enough and I’m a good tipper—even if I don’t buy anything. Let’s get down to business, shall we?”

  “You’re not one of us,” Mr. Gibbins said. “I find it fascinating that you’d be the one tasked with conducting this interview.”

  “I’m next in line, and can handle myself,” I said with my sweetest, business smile.

  “Many humans have delusions of evening out the playing field, and I don’t doubt you’re quite capable of handling yourself against your own kind.”

  “I have no delusions,” I said, getting a little irritated. “And I don’t have to explain myself or my successful track record to you. You’re here to be interviewed for exclusive membership, not the other way around. If you’re no longer interested, then you’re free to leave. I’ll pick up the tab for your drink.”

  “I can pay for my own damn drink,” Mr. Gibbins snapped. “Don’t patronize me.”

  I noticed the fearful expression on the waiter’s face when he returned with the glass of red wine and a fresh basket of bread. “Is there anything else I can get for the two of you?” he asked, hesitantly.

  “No; we’re fine,” I said, never taking my eyes off the predator before me.

  “Thank you,” Mr. Gibbins said, then took a sip of his wine as the waiter hurried away. “Not bad for a house variety. Though draining that young boy’s wrist into my glass would be so much more appetizing.”

  “There is no killing at our club,” I said, sternly. “All of the blood taken from guests is only done so with explicit consent.”

  “I understand that, but what I do on my own time—off the premises of your club—is my business. I am not opposed to following the house rules and applaud the creation of a safe space, where we can be more or less ourselves. I see the value in it and appreciate the opportunity. I’ve lived a long time; a lot has changed over the decades, and some old habits die hard. As I sent over, the Order’s file has no official infractions.”

  “All of your paperwork seems to be in order and I appreciate that you’ve supplied everything we’ve asked for. Your background check came back with nothing further than the information in your file. Now, it’s simply down to whether I feel you’re a good fit for our club… Our caliber can only be maintained with exclusivity. Why do you believe you’re a good fit for Fangloria?”

  Mr. Gibbins took another sip of his wine and produced a wide, toothy grin. “Because I can provide that mystery and excitement your human patrons are looking for—women, men—I’ve had them all, entertained them all… satisfied them all. Though I won’t deny I have my darker urges, I also appreciate and enjoy the pleasure and company of your kind. I won’t cause trouble or make a mess and will be sure to present myself in the best possible way.”

  “Besides the safety of our human patrons, Fangloria also provides a safe space for vampires, so any disputes between your kind for any reason will be dealt with swiftly and severely.”

  “And will these punishments be doled out by you?” he asked, almost on the verge of laughter.

  “If need be,” I said, retaining my smile. “But I typically specialize in making problems disappear outside the club. Which brings me to rescinding membership. We have the right to rescind your membership at any time, at which time no amount of pre-paid dues will be returned. If there is retaliation of any kind, then our collections team will collect you and we will deal with you accordingly.”

  “Are you part of the collections team?”

  “I run the collections team,” I said, looking him straight in the eyes. “I hope I never have to pay you a visit. Don’t make me regret setting up this meeting.”

  “I mean no disrespect,” Mr. Gibbins said. “You just seem like such a sweet young lady, and I still find it hard to believe that you’re so involved in an enterprise like this.”

  “As you said, looks can be deceiving,” I said, tearing apart a slice of bread, dipping it in olive oil, then popping it in my mouth.

  “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, or Mr. Alabaster by extension. I would truly appreciate the opportunity to join your club. I understand the terms. I understand the cost. And I understand the consequences.”

  “And this is why I conduct the interviews, to test the reactions of your kind to answering to someone like me.” I grabbed a folder from beside me on the bench, so I could retrieve the forms. “Here is our membership contract and a non-disclosure agreement. Please read through them carefully and let me know if you have any concerns. If we are on the same page, then you can sign both forms.” I slid a pen across the table as he began scanning the pages. We wanted everything to appear official though we’d never take legal action against a vampire for breach of contract. We’d deal with matters personally, usually resulting in someone’s death.

  “This is all for show, isn’t it?” Mr. Gibbins asked, glancing up.

  “It’s just paperwork,” I said. “We make sure to have all our documents in order in case we ever get audited. Of course, your Vampire Order file will not be among our official paperwork. That will be kept confidential—off-site, very secure.”

  “I trust you know what you’re doing,” he said, then picked up the pen and signed on the dotted lines.

  I placed the signed forms back in their folder, then handed him one more printed sheet. “Here are the directions to set up your online payments. You’ll be required to pay your first year in full before admittance.” Last, I handed him a black keycard. The front of it was blank, except for the Vampire Nation engraving. The logo color matched that of the card, so it was necessary to look closely to even notice it. “And here is your exclusive member’s key. It will be linked to your account, so will not work until your payment has been received.”

  Mr. Gibbins took the keycard and examined it closely, turning it over several times in his hands.

  “Take good care of the card,” I said. “Replacements are not cheap.”

  “Is that by choice or design?” he asked, finally returning his gaze to me.

  “What do you think?”

  “If I was a gambling man, I’d say it was by choice.”

  “Very good, Mr. Gibbins. Perhaps you should be a gambling man.”

  “I like to save my bets for sure things.”

  “Then it seems we do have something in common,” I said, finishing my water in one final gulp. “Welcome to the club, Mr. Gibbins. I hope it supplies everything you’re looking for.”

  “I look forward to seeing if the rumors are true,” he said, stuffing the keycard into his breast pocket.

  “And what rumors would those be?” I asked, innocently.

  “That it’s paradise after dark.”

  “I guess you’ll have to judge for yourself. Membership is the price it is for a reason.”

  “I hope so,” Mr. Gibbins said as he scooted out from the booth, stood, and offered his hand. “It’s been a pleasure, Ms. Winter. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

  “I’m always around,” I said with a sly smile, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake.

  7

  Fiona

  I couldn’t believe my luck when I ran into Mom in the parking lot of our apartment complex. It seemed she was just getting home as well, at just a few minutes past 9 p.m. I didn’t even bother asking her where she went anymore; I knew all her odd jobs, which I used to think were normal part-time work, were really ones related to Frederick and vampires. I didn’t even want to know what she truly did for him.

  “Wow,” she said, walking over to me as I stepped down from the driver’s seat. “Is that Society issue?”

  I nodded sheepishly. I knew I’d be telling her about the Land Rover at some point in the near future, though hadn’t planned on it being day one.

  “That’s a very stylish ride.” She stepped around the open door to get a look at the interior. “I’ve seen Matthew’s when he’s followed me in it. Ver
y nice.” She climbed in to sit behind the wheel. “Come to think of it, he hasn’t been following me in quite some time. Did you say something to him?”

  “I haven’t mentioned anything,” I said, which was the truth. Matthew had his secrets and I had mine.

  “Then someone else must have jumped onto his radar.” Mom shrugged. “I guess I should upgrade now. No use in pretending we can’t afford some luxuries.”

  “Whatever you want, Mom,” I said and began my trek toward the apartment. She was still trying to be my best friend, but I couldn’t look at her the same anymore. Seeing her with Frederick. Seeing the Vampire Nation tattoo on her hip… She wasn’t the mother I thought I knew.

  “Hey, kid! What’s with the attitude?” Mom had slammed the door and was chasing after me down the sidewalk.

  “Why are you continuing to pretend everything’s the same? Like everything’s peachy?” I argued.

  “I’m not pretending anything. I was just interested in your new car and wanted to pay you a compliment. Is that so wrong?” She reached for my arm to stop me mid-stride, but I shook her hand away.

  “No one’s interest is in me anymore. Now it’s all about the True North Society.” I reached the front door but had to stop and dig for my keys in my purse.

  “Keep your voice down,” she admonished.

  “Why? Am I giving myself away?” I asked. Now I wished I’d spent the night at the condo, even though I had no clothes or supplies there. Matthew and I had gone out for a nice steak dinner, then gone back to the condo and made out a little more. But again, it stopped there. He’d had business to attend to and I hadn’t wanted to spend the night alone in an unfamiliar place. Now I thought of just packing an overnight bag and heading right back out.

  The door slammed shut behind me. “Fiona, stop!” Mom commanded. She rarely ever raised her voice to me, and I didn’t remember her being an intimidating person when I was younger, but there was something scary about her now. I didn’t know if it was a change in her presence or just the knowledge that she was in league with vampires, but her voice stopped me in my tracks.