Children of Blood (Kat Drummond Book 13)

by Nicholas Woode-Smith

  “I was…trying to stop the vamps last night,” he replied. The hesitance suggested he didn’t believe he had made much of a difference.

  He looked back at the laptop screen. As if shielding himself from what he was about to say.

  “It’s hard to hold the key to power, but not be able to use it properly. To be a moment too slow. To forget the words you need just as you require them.”

  “Wizardry isn’t for close quarters, Pranish. No one expects you to be able to cast like a sorcerer. Wizardry is its own noble pursuit.”

  “But I am a sorcerer, Kat! Just with a spark too weak to do anything with. Maybe my parents are right! Maybe I should have focused on expanding my spark. To be able to use my ice properly. To let its cold, unfeeling gaze pierce my very soul. I wouldn’t be me anymore, but at least then people would be safe!”

  “Shut up,” I growled. Pranish went silent, shocked. “No one insults my friend. Much less themselves! And I won’t hear any moronic talk about growing your spark. You left that behind because you believed in wizardry. You believed in knowledge over unearned power. And don’t you dare wish you were someone else. We love you, Prani, and we don’t want anyone else.”

  Pranish was still, but I saw some tension leave his shoulders. I walked closer to him, peering over his shoulder. He had a digital map open on his laptop. Looked like the map we used for tracking Crusaders out in the field.

  “You’re tracking the vampire attacks?”

  Pranish nodded. “I’m trying to. All the humans attacking us last night make things harder. And a lot of the Crusaders didn’t bother to report anything in. Can’t say I blame them. It was chaos.”

  And it was going to be chaos again if we didn’t stop them before nightfall.

  “Found anything out?”

  Pranish shook his head. “The strikes were surgical. Far apart. There must have been many vampires acting separately across the city. But we already knew that. I suspect that the gentleman who attacked us at the compound was either acting as a decoy or was just foolhardy. All the other attacks were on soft targets. Lone, isolated patrols. Hospitals and shopping malls. Our families…”

  “Miriam had suggested that Umbhubhisi was a hothead. I think he wanted to take us down before his brothers could.”

  “So, he underestimated us?” Pranish asked. Almost disbelieving.

  “Not the first who has. But I suspect that this Ukwesaba is far more intelligent.”

  “It is hard to say,” Pranish replied, zooming out on the laptop’s map and comparing it to his physical map. “Every strike seems surgical, but it’s also chaotic. Sporadic. Not every family was attacked by vampires. Many, even some of the closest to us like the Davisons, were left to common thugs. And there isn’t any geographical pattern to the other attacks. A hospital was hit on the other side of the slums in Stellenbosch, while Groote Schuur Hospital was bombed here. Both had vampire sightings. And, as far as I know, there’s no connection between the Crusaders and both those hospitals.”

  “Terror isn’t about attacking your enemies,” I said. Pranish raised his eyebrow quizzically at that. So did Treth.

  “Terror isn’t aimed at eliminating your opponents,” I explained. “It’s a show. A statement. A message. The victims of the terror aren’t the real targets. They’re just a means to an end. The vampires don’t care about the patients or staff in the hospitals, or even the families they’re killing. They only care about what we think about the attacks. They want us to be scared. They want us to get desperate. They want everyone to know that they might be next…”

  But, most of all, they wanted to push me to the point that I could no longer stand not handing myself in.

  “Pranish,” I continued, after a brief pause. “Is there any way we can guess where they’re going to strike next?”

  He hesitated, and then shook his head. “I’m sorry, Kat. But it doesn’t seem like there’s any real pattern at all. As you said, they just want to spread terror. We can’t plan for that. Chaos and misdirection is their friend. They don’t need to plan. They just need to keep up the killing…”

  His forehead creased and I saw something in his eyes I had never seen before.

  “I don’t know if we can win this, Kat.”

  “We have to,” I replied, turning to leave.

  But I wasn’t sure if I believed my own words.

  Chapter 10. Sacrifice

  Pandemonium was their friend. And every night, they had another opportunity to cause wanton destruction.

  How could you plan against chaos?

  Monsters, no matter how beastly, had plans. They had motives. You could understand them. Predict them. You could guess where they’d go next. Set bait. Set a trap. Set an ambush. Slay them.

  Even vampires were usually simple. You knew they wanted blood. But they were also still human, kinda. You could bargain with them. Count on their rational impulses. You could prepare.

  I wasn’t sure if Ukwesaba and his Izingane Zegazi were rational or not. But, if they were feeding, we hadn’t been able to catch them off-guard while they were doing it. Because feeding was not the goal. All they wanted was to cause terror. A terror that would push the city to give up its heroes.

  And it was working.

  Another night, and another bloodbath. No Crusaders died, fortunately. But some family had. I got news that the widowed mother of a long dead Crusader had been killed. I remembered her. I had delivered news of her son’s death personally.

  The Izingane Zegazi wanted everyone to know that they would never be safe. Leaving the Crusaders, or even dying, would not spare their families.

  There was no way out other than to turn Guy and me in.

  No Crusader had shown any real indication of doing so. We had fought together, bled together. I trusted them. All of them. But I wouldn’t blame them if there was at least some doubt going through their minds.

  I went to my apartment rather than HQ, so I could escape their stares as well as the protesters. I snuck past the picketers and looters and managed to get back to my home. Fortunately, it seemed my address hadn’t been leaked. Thank Athena for that! Alex was now kept safe with me. I wouldn’t know what to do if anything happened to him. I knew the Mentor could get in, but if he had meant to kill my cat to get to me, he would have done so already. It was vamps and looters attacking Cindy’s far more vulnerable house that I was worried about presently.

  I stood on my balcony, overlooking my city. Smoke rose below the base of Table Mountain. The hospital. It had been hit again last night. Apparently, patients and staff had been dragged away. I had Crusaders looking for them. They were trying their best, but police were standing in the way. Even those we had been friendly with in the force were eying us with contempt and blame.

  How soon until one of my own Crusaders turned on us? And, could I wait that long?

  “Perhaps, I should hand myself in…” I couldn’t help but mutter, letting the breeze carry my words into the void.

  The shattering of glass woke me from my reverie. I held out my hand, waiting for Ithalen, but it didn’t appear.

  Standing behind me, over a dropped plastic grocery bag with shattered contents, was Brett, his eyes disbelieving. Treth stood next him, his eyes angry and disappointed.

  “How could you say that?” Treth hissed. “How could you even contemplate that that would be a good idea? Think about yourself for once! You don’t know how many people you hurt when you don’t.”

  “How can I not think about it?!” I yelled, looking pointedly at Treth as Brett remained pale and silent. “People are dying. For me! Because I shook a fucking hornet’s nest and invited them to attack us. I invited the Necro Lord to fight us. I taunted the vampires. It was me! And now innocent people are paying the price.”

  I shook my head. I tried to be angry. Angry so I wouldn’t cry. So, I wouldn’t look at the expression on Brett’s face.

  Treth shone a tinted red, and then shook his head. He disappeared into the void. Leaving me with
Brett, alone in our apartment. Even Alex had made himself scarce.

  I stood apart from my boyfriend, trying not to meet his gaze, as acid rose up in my stomach. The longer the silence stretched, the more I pondered: What have I done?!

  “Brett, I’m…”

  “Vampires,” he interrupted, voice cold. “Took my family. They turned my sister, then they killed the rest of my family. They burned my home. They took…everything. Even when I was in the Corps, it was vampires that took my friends away from me. So, I fought them. But, in doing so, they took away my humanity. They took away my childhood.”

  He shook his head, and I saw anger in his face now. Anger, and determination.

  “I’m not going to let them take you. No matter the cost.”

  “Even if it destroys our city?”

  He nodded. “Nothing else matters to me. Guy is my brother, and you are my life. I will never let anything bad happen to the two of you.”

  I let his eyes meet mine. There was no machine-like, cold anger there. I saw love, and I saw rage, and I saw sadness and loss. And above all that, I saw fear.

  It wasn’t just me who would suffer if I sacrificed myself. Treth was right. And, I loved Brett. And I loved Treth. And all those I’d leave behind.

  “I’m never going to surrender to them,” I whispered, loud enough for him to hear. No matter the cost.

  I approached the love of my life with open arms and embraced him. I held his head to my shoulder as my flame coat purred soothingly.

  “I am not going anywhere that you can’t follow.”

  I looked him in the eyes and summoned up a weak smile.

  “Besides, when would I ever do something a vamp would want? Like they’d even hold up their side of the deal!”

  Brett almost smiled, but his frown soon returned. He looked at the floor, where he had dropped the groceries. White wine and beer were mingling in a puddle on the tiled floor.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I had a nice early evening planned. Some relaxation before…”

  Before the onslaught began anew.

  I caressed his cheek. Brett was strong. One of the strongest men I knew. But there was a fragility there. A vulnerability that he let only a few people see.

  “We will have plenty more chances to relax…with each other. And besides, we don’t need wine and beer…”

  This time, he did smile as I grinned mischievously. Just as my phone decided to ring. I hugged Brett close, ignoring it. I had done my duty enough already. All night! It seemed an entire lifetime. I could ignore one phone call…

  But it didn’t stop.

  Brett released me and eyed my pocket, resigned and disappointed. I sighed. If frustration could be weaponised, I wouldn’t have to worry about the Izingane Zegazi or the Conclave! Hell, Riaan would probably explode from the might of my sheer, palpable stress levels.

  I checked my cell. The caller was Jane. Typical that an ex-politician would add to my problems.

  “This better be good,” I replied, looking at Brett apologetically. He began to pick up the shattered bottles and mop up the spill.

  “Better than good, Kat!” Jane exclaimed, ignoring the venom in my voice. “Conrad and I have finally tracked down our mutual friend. The rodent we’ve been looking for.”

  “Not in the mood for riddles, metaphors or puns, Jane.”

  “The mole, Kat. We found the mole. And we have him tied up at the HQ, awaiting your interrogation.”

  Chapter 11. Mole

  Jane was right. This was good news. And it couldn’t wait, no matter how much I wanted it to.

  “Go, Kat,” Brett said, sounding a bit disappointed, but resolute. “I’ll go back to the store and buy some more of…”

  He indicated the shattered liquor.

  I kissed him and then left. I felt Treth return to my side.

  “Am I forgiven?” I asked.

  “That’s not the problem,” Treth grumbled. “It shouldn’t be about forgiveness or apologies. You are too flippant with your life. You think it’s currency that can be traded away and gambled for the good of others.”

  “Isn’t that what you wanted me to be? What you taught me? To be a selfless knight, battling darkness for eternity?”

  “I…yeah. But I changed.”

  I felt some guilt from my ghostly friend. I reached out towards him as I arrived at the bottom of the stairs.

  “We all change, Treth. And we all make mistakes. I am tired. Tired of all this. We didn’t even get a respite after the Necro Lord. I just want to sleep knowing that I won’t get bombed in the night.”

  “I know, Kat. Me too. I’m sorry for lashing out.”

  “No need, my friend. As you said, this isn’t about apologies.”

  I mounted my bike and rushed back to HQ. There were no more protesters. And no more bodies either. A half dozen Crusaders milled about outside. One flagged me down. I recognised her. Bethany was a veteran of the Flesh Factory and the Battle. She’d seen a lot in very little time. Had been a newbie just a week before.

  “Kyong was arrested,” she said, simply.

  “What?! Why? How?”

  Stupid questions. I knew exactly why.

  Bethany frowned. Her features were obscured by her dark visor.

  “A snitch, or someone got a photo during the chaos. I’m sorry, Commander. We thought we got to all the witnesses.”

  That made it sound like we were some sort of crime syndicate! Perhaps Riaan was right?

  No! He made us do this. The blood was on his hands. If he hadn’t incited these riots in the first place, then we would be able to focus on the vampires.

  I thanked her for the information and parked my bike. That was the last news I wanted to hear. I would need to drop in to see him. To make sure he wasn’t close to breaking his cell open. He could do that. Easily. Unless they had him shackled with demanzite, which was a mage-rights violation. Perhaps, we could get him off. But, it wasn’t as if the city was friendly towards us at the moment.

  For now, I had more pressing matters. Perhaps, the mole Jane had tied up was the same snitch who had turned in Kyong. Well, time to find out.

  Jane was standing in the entrance hall, awaiting my arrival. She was positively buzzing with excitement. Her beam seemed genuine. Like she was a child playing her favourite game.

  “Kat!” she called. “Our guest of honour is waiting for us.”

  I rolled my eyes at that. Jane was having too much fun with this. I knew she derived pleasure from accomplishing things, a trait she did not share with many politicians, but this was a different scenario entirely. She had a person tied up in the back! It wasn’t like she’d opened a contract with a new client.

  Well, Jane had always been fascinated with hunters. Perhaps, she felt like she was part of the hunt now.

  Jane led me past the stairwell to the offices and down a maintenance corridor. Truth be told, I had never actually been here before. I always presumed it was just a storage closet. But, it actually led to another door, which further led into a downward staircase.

  “I didn’t know we had a basement!” I exclaimed.

  Jane raised her eyebrow at that. And then opened her mouth as she realised something.

  “Conrad suggested we use the basement. I thought you knew about it.”

  “I did not. And I doubt anyone except Conrad knew.”

  That slimy, illusionist-hiring scumbag! Hiding a basement from us this entire time.

  The staircase ended in a small janitor’s room. Back in the day, a custodian probably slept here. It was complete with a bed, closet for cleaning supplies, and a pile of Conrad’s belongings.

  And, in the centre of the room was a young man with dark brown hair, eyes as wide as a deer facing slaughter, and the dark uniform of a Crusader, tied to a chair and gagged with a ball of socks.

  Conrad stood behind the prisoner, arms crossed and a look of triumph on his face.

  I looked at my one-time boss and now employee.

  “When were you go
ing to tell me you were squatting, Mr Khoi?” I asked, filling my voice with ice. It was directed at Conrad, but as I glanced at the prisoner, he squirmed.

  “It wouldn’t be squatting if I got permission,” Conrad waved the accusation aside. “Besides, I knew you’d be fine with it. I just didn’t want Cindy to know. And you tell her EVERYTHING.”

  “Gentleman and lady, let us continue this discussion on tenancy another time. We have a guest,” Jane interjected, cracking her knuckles and stepping towards the poor mole.

  I recognised the Crusader but couldn’t remember his name. A quiet guy. Been in the Crusaders for a while but always took different shifts from me. Stayed at the back. Reclusive. I’d thought that normal of hunters. But it seems he had ulterior motives.

  “Name?” I asked, inclining my head towards Jane.

  “Albert Pretorius. Been with us since after Darius,” she replied. “Hunter record is a bit mediocre. Never acted solo. Always in a squad. Minimum performance to not be called in for disciplinary measures…”

  “We have disciplinary measures?” I asked, surprised. There was a lot about the workings of the Crusaders I didn’t know. I just stabbed things.

  Conrad grunted, nodding. It seemed he had been doing far more than just selling merchandise.

  Looking at our pair of non-combat employees, I realised that their designations were ploys. There was a ruthlessness in both of them. While I could only fight monsters, they had to make the hard decisions – even if it meant hurting fellow hunters. It was a necessary job. One I don’t think I could do. It also made me a little terrified of both of them. Especially when they were together.

  “Our friend Albert,” Jane continued. “Also ensured he never performed so well that he would be noticed. A suspicious trait in a hunter, I would think.”

  “You think we’re all glory hungry knights of yore, Jane,” I replied. “How did you catch him?”

  I really, really hoped that they had evidence.

  “Conrad actually found him,” Jane said, glancing at her colleague and friend with unmistakable pride.