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I jump on one’s back, sliding his sword from his sheaf in one fluid movement, and placing it to the front of his throat. “Drive straight toward the gate, and do not slow or I will spill whatever blood you have with this knife. Do I make myself clear, you green eyed ghoul?”
There is silence in response, not that I thought I would get an answer having never heard them utter a sound except that loud, heinous screech that they are so well known for. He may not say a word, but he does do exactly as I’ve asked, traveling fast and right toward the golden gates. And when he’s close enough and gone as far as he can go, I push myself off the back, landing on smooth, puffy clouds on the other side of that gate.
I don’t know how long it’s been, but when I wake my mouth feels like cotton balls, and I’m thirstier than I’ve ever been. I swing my legs gingerly to the side of the bed, scooting to its edge while letting my feet acclimate to the floor. My fingers run down the length of my throat, chest, and arms, all which were riddled with gaping wounds and now feel as smooth as they did days before.
Botosoni doesn’t hate me. He came for me, turned me. There is no other explanation. He saved me once again. And now, it’s up to me to repay the favor. I have to get to Botosoni.
If what I think is true, he and the others are in grave danger and will have no way out when this thing comes to an end. My mind swirls with one vision after another, vampires of all shapes and sizes delivering unforgiving blows of long steel blades, short daggers, and stakes meant to send the other straight to hell.
The clothes sitting on the edge of the reading chair next to the bed aren’t that far away, yet still, they seem out of my reach in the weakened condition that I’m in. Clara walks in just as I’m reaching for them and clucks her disapproval. “I’ll get your clothes. Where are you off to in such a hurry? You transitioned far faster than most. It’s as though you’ve been one of us for all of your life,” the kindly woman says.
I don’t disagree with her, because that crossed my mind only moments ago; except that I’d like to be a lot stronger than I am. “I need strength. I have to get to the club and warn Botosoni.”
“Message his phone,” she calls over her shoulder as she heads out of the bedroom.
I narrow my eyes at the door, although she can no longer see me. My phone is sitting on the nightstand, and I scoop it up and send a message: Call me asap. Catina.
Every second that he doesn’t respond causes my angst to rise. When Clara returns, she has two quarts of blood. “Master Botosoni no doubt gave you enough blood to sustain through the transition, but you must have gone through it at an alarming rate. I’m sure he wants to be the one to introduce you to the taste, but there is no time to waste if what you say is true. Drink it. It will give you the strength to do what it is that you have to do.”
I give Clara a warm smile and take a quart from her hands. The smell is strong, and I should be repelled, yet my senses respond as if I’ve been a vampire all my life. I take a tentative sip, and then let the thick dark liquid glide down the back of my throat, coating what felt like cotton balls mere moments ago.
Clara switches quarts with me when I empty the first. “Better?
I stand up, slowly, but I’m standing and then I’m walking, tentatively at first, but still, I’m walking, and then I’m pacing from one side of the room to the other with purpose, while I finish the second quart. I place the empty glass on the nightstand by my phone and grab the clothes from the chair. “I’ll be right back,” I tell Clara, hurrying to the bathroom to change.
She’s cleared the glasses from the room when I return and sits in the chair by the bed. “If you’re going into danger, you need to know how to transport. It takes most practice, but we have no time for that.” Clara stands and takes my hand, staring right into my eyes. “Now, focus. You have always had the power of sight, now you must use it to guide your way. Focus on where you want to be, and don’t think about how you’re getting there. Use your will, and go to Botosoni.”
I close my eyes and focus on Club Descallia, willing myself to the reserved table that Descallia keeps at the front of the club. The feel of my feet leaving the ground causes butterflies to dance in my belly but is soon replaced with the angst of exactly what I’ll find at the end of my trip.
There is no sense of time, only dark and blackness as I travel from one place to another, only opening my eyes when my feet are back on solid ground only to find myself not in the club where I thought he would be, but in the middle of a dark alley. He reaches out from the shadows of the building and pulls me to him. “Quiet.”
I focus all my energy because I know we can communicate without words; it’s just a matter of learning how to do it as a vampire. The rogues are coming with the shifters and Sheba. They are going to attack.
He strokes a finger down my chin and the length of my throat. We’ll talk later. He turns my face toward the street that’s lit with the streetlamp. “I have to go. Do not move one inch. You will stay here and watch and learn, love.”
He disappears, the warmth from his body gone instantly. I watch where Botosoni pointed, and from this view point I have the advantage of seeing a large group of rogues and shifters marching toward the club, capes flying behind their backs as they make their way up the hill and cross into the deep recessed culvert that spans the roadway.
The vampires get to the bottom of the culvert, and screeches begin to fill the night. The vampire masters surround the culvert, spraying large hoses of gushing water into the ravine where the vampires are now grouped and stuck. At the same time, water from the hydraulic system begins to gush, flushing the city’s water system, and dumping hundreds of gallons of water through the large cylinder culverts, almost immediately filling the large ravine with trapped rogue vampires.
Unlike the vampires who can’t sustain the water, and whose immortal lives are ended with the stakes, the shifters try to leap to safety but are continuously knocked down by the force of the water and arrows that pierce their mangy chests.
The vampires flail, unable to move or transport as they go into shock under the force of the water on their skin while the Masters of the Consulate soldiers continue to fire arrows into the crowd of frenzied beasts until not one is left standing except for the Masters of the Consulate.
Chapter 22
Botosoni
When the last of the rogues and shifters are downed, the vampire masters watch to ensure not one of the bastards has escaped with their life. Overmaster Descallia claps me on the back as Lord Braedon and a few of the soldiers I trust begin the arduous task of dragging the bodies out to ensure each was staked and that they receive a burial in fire that will end their eternal reign of terror for good.
Overmaster Descallia turns to me from his place by my side and tosses his bow and arrow strap over his shoulder. He grins at all of us as we gather, excited and still coursing with adrenaline from our victorious fight with the rogues who have been the bane of our existence for centuries too long. “We did it. You did it. Each and every one of you together have ensured our rightful place in the underworld, and in doing so you combated a great evil to society.”
He looks to each of us, all his masters and special ops team in the very same place. An exceptionally dangerous but necessary part of the plan when none of your lords and warriors can be trusted with critical information to the mission. When even your most trusted allies have turned to enemies who will stab you in the back and would like to see you gone from this earth.
I walk down the hill a ways to talk to Silver, Clay, and Terrence. “Great job. Tell our team thank you, and I will meet with you and them a little later. There are a few things that I need to attend to while your finishing up here.”
My right hand is always ready to do whatever is needed to protect our heritage, our way of doing things, and our land. “Consider this taken care of. Go, be with the little lady. She waits for you,” he says, gesturing with a nod to the area that I left her.
I grin, unable to get anything by my trusted friend. “It was a miscommunication. What you heard wasn’t what we originally thought. I should have known better, but you know my trust issues.”
