He’d been doing patrols outside of town, so this was his first postattack look at the little community he’d come to love. Now it reminded him of the bombed European villages he’d seen after World War II, piles of rubble alongside burned shells of buildings, punctuated by an occasional storefront left inexplicably whole and untouched but for broken windows. Looking at it hurt. Everything these people built had been honest and good.
He made himself a promise. If he survived this, he’d help rebuild Penton. He had an obligation to go back to England and try to replicate this place, but not until the original town was whole again.
He’d hoped to take a look in the Baptist church before being spotted, but no such luck. The door to the church opened, and a tall, thin man stood in dark silhouette against the interior
lantern light. Cage could feel the weight of examination from a block away. He lifted his arm in a wave and angled toward the church. Time for his opening performance.
From Will’s description, Cage thought the vampire he was about to meet had to be the infamous Shelton Porterfield. Tall, thin, with washed-out blue eyes silvered in hunger, an oversized beak of a nose, and stringy white-blond hair that fell over his forehead in the shape of a comma. Definitely Matthias’s second-in-command.
“You better have a good reason for being here.” Shelton’s drawl carried authority, but Cage recalled Will’s account of how cowed the man had been when Will had arrived at Matthias’s Virginia estate to rescue Mirren and Glory six weeks ago. Will had easily gotten the jump on him. Mr. Porterfield could be intimidated.
“I’m here to see Matthias Ludlam.” Shelton assumed his most formal upper-class accent and stiff-upper-lip demeanor. “As an envoy from the Tribunal’s UK representative, Edward Simmons.” He and Edward had come up with the alibi in case he ever ran into trouble. He figured if this situation wasn’t trouble, nothing qualified.
Shelton frowned and looked him over. Cage assumed a casual stance but threw his shoulders back and never dropped his gaze. He studied Shelton for telltale body language and was satisfied. Shelton had lost his swagger. He wet his lips, jiggled his hands, frowned, and looked down the street. The man was trying to decide what to do with his sudden, unexpected visitor.
“Stay here while I talk to Matthias and see when he’s available. Mr. Ludlam’s a busy man; he can’t just talk to anyone who wanders up.”
Cage shrugged. “No problem. I’ll ring up Edward at his New York office and tell him Matthias will see me
when he has time
. Pity, that. The United Kingdom organization has been a supporter of Matthias’s work here in Penton. Edward will be disappointed that Matthias doesn’t have time for one of his staunchest allies.”
He turned back in the direction from which he’d entered town and walked away. When Shelton called after him, he allowed himself a brief smile before turning to respond.
“Wait.” Shelton’s voice rose with a quiver. “No sense in running off. Matthias is here. Come on, we’ll find him. But”—Shelton wet his lips again, a nervous tell—“I…Well, how do I know you’re who you say? You might be one of Aidan Murphy’s scathe.”
What an idiot.
Cage gave him a level look. “Do you scent Murphy’s scathe on me? Come a little closer, Mr. Porterfield.”
The fool actually took a step backward. “How’d you know my name? Mr. Simmons wouldn’t know me.”
“Edward makes it his business to know the major players. We know that Shelton Porterfield, formerly of Virginia, is Matthias’s second here. I had your description and, in fact, knew you were the perfect man to expedite my meeting with Matthias. You have a reputation for being very efficient.” And he had some swampland in the Scottish Highlands to sell if the man bought that lie.
Cage reached in his pack and pulled out a forged British passport with his photo and a real letter of introduction from Edward, including the leader’s personal seal and the stamped insignia of the Vampire Tribunal. All quite legitimate, except, of course, for his real business here and Edward’s true allegiance.
He handed the papers to Shelton, who read the letter with a gradual relaxation of tense shoulders. “Sorry for doubting you. We’ve got to be careful around here—these goddamned rebels are ruthless. They’d not hesitate to take Matthias down, and the Tribunal is relying on him to take care of Penton so they can focus on how to meet this pandemic vaccine crisis.”
Yeah, more likely so they could continue their graft and corruption and, judging from his last conversation with Edward, formalize a policy that would allow the black market sale of unvaccinated humans. If the vampire ruling body was seriously considering sanctioned human trafficking, they were all beyond fucked. Edward thought if they could get Aidan on the Tribunal, he’d have enough charisma and persuasion skills to turn them around. But first, Aidan had to survive and they had to turn enough Tribunal members to get him a fair hearing.
Which meant this had to work. He had to find out what Matthias was doing and figure out a way to give Aidan the upper hand.
“No problem, Shelton. I’m sure Matthias appreciates your thoroughness. Shall we see him, then?”
Shelton bobbed his head and started walking in the same direction from which Cage had come. “Matthias has taken the office at the old clinic. Part of it was damaged in an explosion, but the office is still usable and has electricity.”
Cage knew he had to not appear too well informed, especially of the last few days’ events. “I noticed a lot of damage around town. Fire damage, rubble. What happened?”
Shelton shook his head. “Might not want to ask Mr. Ludlam that. We almost had all of them, with some careful planning, the bombs, the fires. A lot of ’em died, but some managed to get away. Not only Murphy, but Kincaid—you heard of the Slayer?”
“I’d heard Mirren Kincaid had joined forces with Murphy, yes.” Cage looked ahead, avoiding eye contact with Shelton lest he start laughing at Will’s description of how frightened the man had gotten in his only close encounter with Mirren. Now that he’d met Shelton, he could visualize it. “I also hear Kincaid is quite a swordsman, that he still has his original battle sword, in fact.” A downtown battle against a small army of starving vampires, who had been led to Penton by Matthias’s people, had already become the stuff of legend among the Penton residents. Some said Mirren took off twenty heads; some said forty.
“He fucking lops heads off with that sword of his—you’ve never seen anything like it.” Shelton practically shivered. “He’s a monster.”
Given what Will had told him about Shelton—he’d at least hinted that Shelton had tried to sexually molest him—this son of a bitch was a bigger monster than Mirren Kincaid could ever hope to be.
If Cage’s long life had taught him anything, it was that
monster
wasn’t measured in size or physical strength, but in blackness of heart and soul.
Cage remained quiet the rest of the walk to the clinic, while Shelton chattered more than any second-in-command should. As a result, Cage now realized Matthias knew the Penton scathe and their humans had escaped into something called Omega, that he knew it was underground and accessed beneath the church, and that Shelton was virtually living in the church sanctuary in case any of them tried to come out. In other words, Matthias was too damned close to finding them all, just as they’d feared. He hoped Mirren would get the exit plugged before that happened.
They reached the clinic entrance, and Cage followed Shelton into the brightly lit lobby. He understood why Matthias had picked it for his headquarters—it was one of the few buildings in town that still seemed to have electricity and be mostly intact. The overhead fluorescents shot their painful glare into his dark-adjusted retinas, and he squinted against the light.
At the end of the long central hallway, Shelton stopped and knocked on a door to his left. He waited a few seconds, then tentatively opened it. “Matthias? We have a visitor from the Tribunal.”
Matthias came into view through the doorway, his face compressed in a frown and mouth open, probably to give Shelton a good tongue-lashing. He recovered quickly upon spotting Cage, however, and his face smoothed into a practiced smile. A politician’s face, whose pleasant expression never reached the shrewd brown eyes peering cautiously from beneath dark brows and salt-and-pepper hair.
So this is the boogeyman.
“Cage Reynolds.” He stuck a hand out for Matthias to shake, which he did after a second’s pause. “Edward Simmons sends his regards—and he sends me, his most trusted lieutenant, if I might say so myself, to be of service. He’s most sympathetic with your cause and wishes to support your efforts to eliminate the Penton rogues in any way he can.”
Matthias stared at him a moment, and Cage remained still while under scrutiny. If Matthias was a master vampire—even if a weak one, as Will had said—he’d have an arsenal of means to detect fraud: scent, light mental invasions, the ability to gauge whether Cage’s heartbeat sped up with a lie.
Finally, Matthias smiled and motioned Cage inside. “My apologies. These are dangerous times, and we must be cautious.”
“I understand, of course.” Cage produced his papers and handed them to Matthias. “Your man Shelton here was very diligent in examining my credentials before bringing me to you, but I’d like you to see them as well.” The fool beside him practically preened.
“Shelton’s a good man. Have a seat, please. Brandy? I hope you don’t mind, but I need to send Shelton on an errand.”
“Not at all, and brandy sounds excellent.” Cage poured himself a drink and took a seat facing the desk. He crossed his legs in a relaxed posture, but his gaze roved around the room. The office had some damage in one corner, and a buckle in the wooden flooring had exposed the hatch to the subbasement suites. That definitely would have told Matthias how adept the Pentonites were at creating underground living spaces. Correction: how adept his son Will was at engineering them.
Matthias finished his discussion with Shelton and came to sit behind the broad desk—Aidan’s desk. This was where Cage had first met with the Penton scathe leader, in this very seating arrangement. The two men—Aidan and Matthias—couldn’t be more different.
Cage couldn’t help but look for signs of Will in his father. Their eyes were the same color of golden brown, but where Will’s held an almost sweetness when he wasn’t on his guard or being a sarcastic asshole, Matthias’s were hard as amber. Maybe the same jawline, but otherwise, Will must have resembled his mother.
“Let’s see what we have here.” Matthias unfolded the letter from Edward and read it. “Very impressive credentials. A psychiatrist. Do you find that helpful as a member of Edward’s inner circle?”
Cage pretended to think about the question. “Yes, and I think it can be helpful to you. I’ve had many years to study
behavior during wartime, both vampire and human. Edward thought I might be able to advise you on different avenues the Penton scathe might have considered or taken. Maybe help anticipate their moves.”
For the next hour, they talked about the scathe, and Cage was able to learn a lot about what Matthias knew and didn’t know. He could identify all the lieutenants by sight except for Cage himself and knew all the others’ names except for “the redhead,” Randa. Matthias wanted revenge on Glory almost as much as Aidan and Mirren, blaming her telekinesis for ruining his original takedown of Penton.
There was one thing he hadn’t mentioned, however, and Cage decided to tackle it directly. “I’m sorry if this is a sensitive subject, Matthias, but I have to ask about your son. Where does he fit into your plans to destroy Penton? Are you hoping to save him? It’s Edward’s understanding that he’s been with Aidan Murphy for quite a number of years.”
Matthias’s glare pierced him like an ice pick before the man reassumed his politician demeanor. “I have to admit I would like William back in my own scathe, but there must be repercussions for his betrayal. If he survives, he’ll be sent to work for Shelton in Virginia until he comes to his senses. He was always slow to learn—the boy didn’t even pass first grade, much to my shame. It takes harsh measures to teach him, and I can only blame myself that he didn’t learn his place the first time I sent him to Shelton.”
Matthias gave a great put-upon sigh and leaned back in his chair. “If William doesn’t survive, well, of course I’ll be deeply saddened, but the needs of the Tribunal must come before my own. You may reassure Edward of that.”
What an absolute slime bucket. Cage forced his fingers to relax. As Matthias had talked, he’d gripped the arms of his
chair hard enough that the wood had cracked. It was a miracle Will had ended up even halfway normal.
Plus, the comment about Will being a slow learner confused him. He was one of the smartest people Cage had met—quick to grasp problems, find solutions, and able to change directions on the fly.
“I’m sorry if I’m being nosy, but it’s an occupational hazard. Why did William fail first grade? How is he a slow learner? It might be something we could exploit to find the rebels or force your son into helping us.”
Matthias laughed, but it sounded more bitter than amused. “It wasn’t just first grade. He’s slow-witted, I’m afraid. The boy simply could not learn to read. And obviously doesn’t follow orders very well, either. It’s a bad combination of traits.”
As they continued to talk, Cage tucked away the information about Will to think about later, because it definitely didn’t compute with what he’d seen.
Matthias kept glancing at his watch. What was he up to? Was it the task he’d sent Shelton to do? Cage had strained to hear their conversation earlier, but hadn’t been able to detect anything beyond the word
church
.
Might as well let him get to it and not arouse suspicion. “I’m sure you have things to attend to, but please know that I’m at your disposal.” Cage stood and reached across the desk to shake hands with Matthias. “Are there houses in town with safe daysleep spaces one might use?”
Matthias looked at him over steepled fingers, and Cage got the feeling he was being judged yet again. Finally, Matthias nodded and rose from his chair. “No need for that. I discovered some very nice spaces in a subbasement underneath the clinic. You’re welcome to a room there as long as you want, and this
end of the building still has electricity. One room appears to be locked—not sure what Murphy used it for—but the rest are open. In the meantime, I’ll be thinking about how best to put your skills to use.”