Authors: Michelle Rabe
From the passenger seat, the woman watched him, her eyes searching for the right moment. While taking in her surroundings, she initiated small talk, laughing in all the right places, flirting when she thought it was appropriate, but never letting her real purpose be known. She didn’t know if her plan would work or if the impact would incapacitate the vampire so she could finish her work.
Deep in thought, she smiled when they turned off the four-lane freeway and onto a lonely winding two-lane mountain road. As they approached a long sweeping curve at the top of the hill, she took a chance and reached out, touching his arm. As expected, he glanced over at her taking his eyes off the road. A cold, calculating smile crossed her lips before Daniel could react, and she wrapped her hand around his wrist, wrenching the steering wheel hard to the right.
Acting on instinct, Daniel stomped on the brake but the pedal sank to the floor boards without resistance. In the passenger’s seat, her laughter laced scream filled the air as if they were on nothing more than a carnival ride. He reached over and yanked the emergency brake, nothing happened.
The car careened out of control bouncing against the guardrail, sending sparks into the night. They ping-ponged back and forth across the road three times before the vehicle careened over the edge and wrapped itself around the trunk of a massive California Redwood.
Awareness returned like a shroud being peeled back to reveal the desiccated corpse within. Daniel took a deep breath but stopped when the agony of ribs puncturing lung tissue jolted him back to full consciousness. Around him, the car creaked and popped. Fluids hissed, sizzling on hot metal. He turned his head to check on her, certain that the crash and done her in.
She wasn’t there.
The telltale snap of a twig breaking spun his attention to the left. She stood a few yards from the car, blood trickling from a cut above her eye, holding her side as though it hurt. Other than shifting her weight, she made no move to help or offer any assistance.
“My God, what have you done?” Daniel gasped as his own battered body began the healing process. He knew that he needed help as soon as possible, or else his injuries would begin to heal in strange and uncomfortable ways.
“I am just doing my job.” She reached into her large purse and retrieved what looked like a simple tube of lipstick. “You, on the other hand, seem to be developing a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.” She tilted her head to one side and an evil smile curled her lips. “Or maybe it’s the right place at the right time. How would I know?” She stepped closer to the car, picking out a careful path through the deadfall and detritus on the ground.
Daniel tried to move, but his limbs wouldn’t respond. Something had happened during the crash. He wasn’t sure his body would heal from it without permanent damage. He couldn’t understand how she walked around without apparent injuries.
“What are you?” he demanded.
“I am one of many.” She removed the lipstick top and turned the bottom to reveal a short, razor-sharp, blade within.
“Look, sweetheart, if you’re going to do what I think you are, I don’t have time for games. Now, who the fuck, are you?” he asked, filling his words with false bravado.
“I…” she took a slow step forward, “am…” and another step, “your death.” Her words were plain and simple, spoken without malice, hatred, or spite. Basic facts.
Daniel saw it as she leaned over him, the cuff of her long-sleeved sweater pulling back far enough to reveal the edge of a tattoo on the inside of her wrist. The unmistakable shape, bold curving lines that worked together to form a single black rose.
He smiled and let out a soft chuckle. “Well, I didn’t think I would see any of you guys again.” At that moment, the dagger plunged into flesh below his heart. The world had exploded in crimson agony for a split second before everything went black… forever.
5 – San Francisco, CA – September 25, 2012
Jayson clutched the corpse to his chest, drinking deep, pulling every last drop of blood from the wound at the woman’s throat. He ripped his fangs from her and inhaled an open-mouthed breath, letting the smell of blood fill his senses. Sharp energy coursed through his body, filling him with power, opening him even further to the night around him. Sounds filtered through his mind and he let the awareness of them slip by as though they were leaves on the wind. Jayson dropped the corpse on the ground and licked his lips, savoring the metallic tang.
At the end of the alley, Julian watched as the infant vampire, Jayson, first lured his prey into the darkness with pretty words and soft touches. The interlude didn’t last long. He took just enough time to entice her away from prying eyes. The initial strike was quick and clean, without hesitation. The woman let out a soft cry, but nothing more.
I have to give the whelp some credit. He knows how to kill, though his technique lacks a certain finesse
. The elder vampire strolled about halfway to the other vampire before he cleared his throat. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” he asked, taking a scented handkerchief out of his inner pocket to cover his mouth and nose.
The young vampire’s head snapped up and his eyes narrowed. He stepped toward the other man. “Who are you?” The youngster flashed a blood-soaked smile that put his fangs on full display.
Julian raised an eyebrow and met the young vampire’s eyes without blinking. “I’m the guy who’s going to give you exactly what you want.”
“And what do
I
want?” Jayson stepped up to Julian, invading the elder vampire’s space and peering down to meet the shorter man’s silver eyes.
“You want to… how does the saying go… live fast, die young and leave behind a good-looking corpse.” Julian kept his gaze locked on Jayson’s. “How’s that working out for you, kid?” He stepped forward so their chests touched.
The younger vampire growled low in his throat—a clear threat. Julian’s response was a slow smile, curling his lips.
“What do you mean?” Jayson asked, showing caution while taking one step back.
“You wanted to die and almost managed it, but Samair foiled your plan. And now you’re trapped, but you hear things.” Julian spun on his heel and strolled down the street. Julian waited a few moment to be certain that Jayson followed; he continued keeping his voice low. The young vampire would hear, but any stray humans would not. “You hear rumors that speak of a vampire who others of our kind fear.” He let his voice drop to a whisper. “The Assassin.”
“Who?” Jayson fell in step beside him.
“The Assassin.
He
is the real boogie man.” Julian paused, and if he played the situation right, Jayson’s mind would do most of the work for him. It was almost too easy. “The one who puts all bad little vampire boys and girls in their
graves
for the
last
time.”
Jayson snorted, running a hand through his spiked hair. “Why would I go in search of this so-called Assassin?” He held up his hands and put air quotes around the last word.
“Because you do not want to be here.” Julian spoke each word with care, letting some of his native Eastern European accent color each syllable. “I know you, perhaps better than you know yourself.”
“And what is it that you think you know about me?”
“You want to die.” Julian continued walking even though he knew Jayson had stopped. After a few steps, the young one caught up. “You want to go out in a blaze of glory. You tried, but Samair made you one of us. Now you’re just sloppy. You’ve caught the attention of the local Enforcer, but that won’t give you what you really want. Not like this.”
The air filled with the sweet scent of excitement, “How can I get what I want?” Jayson asked, although his tone came across as more of a demand.
“Listen to me.” Julian checked the manicured tips of his nails, thinking that it was time to have them done again.
“What will you do?”
“Make sure you go out in a flood of blood with bodies stacked up around you like firewood.” His words resembled a carnival barker, directing the crowd to something in the center ring. “You’ll have headlines splashed across newspapers, television sets, the internet.” Julian pulled the young man up close by his shirt and whispered, “In the end, humans won’t know your name, but they will know what you have done.
“How do you intend to do that?”
“By upping your body count, of course,” Julian said, “it’s the obvious solution.”
“I can do that on my own.” Jayson scoffed and shoved the other vampire’s arm aside.
“No, you can’t, or you would have already achieved your goal. You’re sloppy. You go around killing without flair or style. The human authorities haven’t figured out that your kills are connected. At this rate, you’ll have to kill as many as thirty or forty more before they even start looking your way.” Julian stopped beside a dark colored sports car and turned to face the other vampire. “And if you don’t get your act together, you’re going to be anonymously dead in seven to ten nights.” He paused. “And this time it will be permanent. No third chance.” Julian opened the car door and held it there waiting for Jayson to make a decision.
The young vampire stared at the car for several long moments before he walked over and climbed into the passenger’s seat.
An unpleasant smile curled Julian’s lips as he closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side.
Yes, this one should serve the Master’s purpose quite nicely.
6 – San Francisco, CA – September 27, 2012
Nicholas stood on the balcony of Abbi’s penthouse apartment, watching humans going about the business of life below him. Even at this height, he could hear the rush of traffic. The lines of headlights were mesmerizing, and he stepped back from the railing and sipped the wine his Enforcer had brought him. He heard her in the apartment speaking with someone on the phone. Nicholas tried not to eavesdrop, but the walls weren’t soundproof, and his vampiric hearing was more acute than most. From the snippets of conversation he heard, it sounded like Abbi and her donor were having a difference of opinion. He shook his head. One of the most difficult parts of being a vampire was juggling the various personalities and needs of the donors who shared their blood. She had been his donor for several years before he’d turned her at the end of their covenant. Decades before Morgan had sauntered into his life, Abbi had struck out on her own.
After several more minutes of back and forth, Abbi stopped speaking and Nicholas heard a heavy sigh through the glass. He could have gone to her then, but he knew her well enough to realize that a question and answer session wasn’t what she needed. The door opened and didn’t close. Soft strains of jazz came through for a few seconds before Abbi stood beside him, a glass of amber liquid with ice in one hand.
“So, what do you need, boss?”
He spared her a quick glance. Their heights were a good near match… her five foot ten to his six feet… with naturally curly red hair and bright blue eyes. “You heard about Daniel?” Nicholas asked, not bothering with pleasantries. The pair had exchanged those when he’d first arrived, before the phone call had interrupted them.
“Yes.” She frowned. “But I guess you’re not here for that reason alone. If you were, you would have simply come out and said something.”
“I would have just called.” One shoulder rose in a slight shrug.
“Good to know.” A thread of laughter showed in her words, and she smirked before asking, “Does this mean I should start ignoring calls from you?”
“No, because that will make me come out here to see what’s wrong.”
“Good point.”
“I need your help in choosing the proper successor for Daniel.”
A slight crease appeared between her brows, and she tilted her head to the left. “The way you say that sounds as if you’re not necessarily talking about wanting the perfect vampire for the job.”
“No,” Nicholas said, “in this case I’m looking more for…” he paused and pursed his lips, “a certain kind of replacement.”
“What’s that?”
“An inept one,” he answered without emotion.
Abbi shook her head, “Excuse me?”
“I need an idiot.” A calculating half smile curled his lips. “Someone who’s going to make it look like they’re doing their job but is really just bumbling their way to Byzantium.”
She thought about what he said for a couple of seconds. Nicholas was content to let her come to her own conclusion or ask what he had in mind. Either outcome worked for his plan. She met his gaze and held it for a few seconds before asking, “May I ask why, boss?”
“Because Daniel suspected that one of Samair’s bloodline might have something to do with the killings that brought me to the city.”
“We’re not talking a generation or two removed here, are we?”
“No. One of Samair’s Blood Children. We didn’t get the chance to go into too much detail. But, if his assessment was correct…” Nicholas let the thought trail off as he took another sip of his wine.
“So, you need one of our people who’s going to keep Samair placated, but not actually do any of the work of finding the Renegade?” Abbi asked though she thought she knew what the answer would be.