September 14th

A Chapter by Millar Blake

Prologue

“There is no chance, no destiny, no fate, that can circumvent or hinder or control the firm resolve of a determined soul.”

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Ben glanced at the moon. Up in these hills it felt closer, like he could reach out and run his hand along the craters. Covered from head to toe, his blond hair hidden, and his face covered in camouflage, Ben's eyes were the only thing to catch the light. He paused for a brief moment and took in the silhouettes of mountain peaks against the backdrop of the full moon. It was a magnificent sight. He made a point of not take these moments for granted, he never knew if he’d get another.

The rocks appeared to shift and roil around him as if alive, but it was the rest of his team, blending perfectly into the terrain. He slid his night vision goggles down, and everyone popped into focus. They topped the ridge and spotted the compound. Nestled against a sheer cliff wall, and surrounded by the jagged rock that lined every inch of these hills, it was the ideal hiding place, and according to their source, three of their most wanted were holed up within.
Miller studied the compound looking for their entrance point. The use of the rock to create the wall surrounding the compound was not only effective at keeping out unwanted visitors, it blended so perfectly, it confused the eye and practically disappeared. The only artificial part of the wall were the twelve foot steel doors on the south side, and they'd have to blow them to get through.

Miller lowered the binoculars and signaled for O'Malley and Washington to take the lead. They moved around the compound until they were right up against the cliff where it met the rock wall. It was the weakest point, and the only way they could get in without announcing their presence. One by one they climbed over the razor like rock and dropped to the ground.

The yard surrounding the two story windowless building was empty of people, and Miller looked at Sanchez and he shook his head. Everything was dark. They were on their own. Miller nodded and signaled for three teams of two to clear the three outer buildings, no more than sheds. Once they got the all clear, he had Washington and Sanchez lead five inside from the north, while O'Malley led six inside from the south. Ben and Miller stayed in the south yard watching O'Malley's team disappear through the furthest door on the right. As the door shut, unease washed over Ben, taking root in his gut.

His gaze shifted between the three doors, watching each handle for the barest hint of movement. Something about the center door kept drawing his gaze, and with each passing moment his uneasiness grew.

"This place is a maze," Sanchez said, barely above a whisper.

"The upper floors are clear," Washington said. "Were making our way down. So far it looks like there are five floors beneath the surface.”

"From this stairwell anyway," Sanchez said.

     "O'Malley?" Miller said. "Any sign?"
     "We're on the second sublevel and so far no people," he replied. "The ground feels like its vibrating. Elevator coming up at the end of the hall. Everyone hold."
     A chill rushed down Ben’s spine. He opened his mouth to say they need to get everyone out, when a sharp hiss reverberated through the comms.

     "Oh my God," O'Malley said. "How many of them are there?"
     "How many of what?" Miller asked.
     "Fangs. He has f*****g fangs!"

     "What?' Miller said. "O'Malley come again?"
     "Oh my God they all do!" O'Malley shouted. "They're vampires. They're f*****g vampires!"
     Gun shots rang out then silence.
     "O'Malley," Miller said.

Ben caught the handle on the center door start to move.

     "O'Malley," Miller said again.
     The hairs on the back of Ben's neck stood up and the door swung open. Five men, wearing scrub shirts and pants, stepped out and lined up in a row facing them. One by one their eyes began to shine.
     "What the hell?" Miller muttered.
     "Sanchez, behind you!" Washington yelled.
     "They're soldiers," echoed through the comms. "Kill them!"
     Gliding silently over the ground, the men rushed them, their eyes shining brightly. Ben and Miller fired. None fell and they fired again, riddling them all with bullets. Still they kept coming.
     Gunfire erupted from all over, followed by shouts and screams, the word vampire rising above all the rest. Ben shifted his aim and hit one in the head. It crumpled to the ground, and the other four were on top of them. Ben ducked and catapulting one over his shoulder, and took aim at another. The bullet hit the creature's chest, and he stopped and looked at the red soaking his shirt. Fixing his gaze on Ben he grinned, revealing fangs protruding from top and bottom gums. Behind the eye shine, black irises surrounded by red regarded him with contempt, and something else. Hunger. He lunged lightning fast, and Ben fired. The bullet took off a chunk of his head and he fell to the ground convulsing. Ben stepped forward to finish him and was hit hard from behind, sending the gun flying.
     Miller yelled and his gun went off, followed by a guttural yowl of pain and a strange harsh word repeated twice. Miller screamed in agony but Ben couldn't get to him. He was trying to pull the one off his back while avoiding its chomping jaws. Suddenly the vampire stiffened and let go.
     Ben whipped around and saw Sanchez pull his knife from the vampire’s skull. He nodded and scanned the courtyard while Ben helped Washington get Miller to his feet. He had a couple nasty looking wounds on his neck and leg, and was having trouble standing on his own.
     "How many of us are left?" Miller asked, breathing heavily.
     "We're it," Washington replied. "This place is a research facility, a lab. Those things are the experiment. And the doctors, you should have seen the doc...” He whipped up his gun up as eye shine started appearing around the yard. Only a few at first, followed by dozens more.
     "S**t," Sanchez muttered.
     "Back to the building," Miller said.
     "But's that's where they came from," Sanchez said.
     "We're dead out here," Ben said. "And they're between us and the door."
     "Into the building now," Miller ordered.

     At least twenty pairs of eyes started moving towards them. Their silence combined with their speed only made them more terrifying, and Ben wished he had more than a knife. The first few overtook them as they hit building. Ben yanked open the door, and Washington pushed Miller through then turned and sprayed the creatures with bullets. Sanchez was thrown against the wall and two of them tore into his neck. He screamed, and Ben tried to get to him, but was cut off by a swarm who pulled Sanchez to the ground.
     "Lawrence get your a*s in here!" Washington yelled, keeping the vampires away from the door.
     He got a hold of Ben's arm and yanked him inside. Time seemed to standstill as Washington's gun was suddenly plucked from his hands. He locked gazes with Ben and was jerked from his grasp, disappearing into the mass of creatures.
     Ben started shoving the door shut and four of them charged, hitting it like a semi-truck. It crashed open, knocking him off his feet. Gunfire erupted behind him and the vampires fell dead, creating a small pocket of space around the door. Ben jumped up, and shoving the door shut, slid the bolt. He turned and Miller was on his knees, the gun already too heavy to hold onto. He dropped it and gave Ben a wan smile before collapsing.
     Ben knelt next to him and reached for the gun. A blur came flying down the hall and he was thrown onto his back. Seeing fangs coming at his face, he grabbed his knife, and stabbed the vampire in the ribs. The man yelled in pain and reared back, right into Miller's bullet. His eyes went in and out of focus, and Ben was taken aback at seeing a man who looked normal, not at all like the red and black eyed creatures outside.
     So swiftly he barely caught it, the man knocked the gun from Miller's hand and lunged for the door. Ben made a grab for him but it was too late.
     "Fools," the man spat. He pulled open the door and fell dead.
     Ben picked up the gun and grabbed Miller around the waist as the night was swallowed by the mass of creatures pouring through the door. Practically dragging Miller down the hall, he found an open door and got Miller inside just as the vampires reached them. They slammed into the door, rattling the hinges, and didn't stop. Ben barricaded the door with what he could find and turned his attention to Miller.

***************

     "We take what we want Paul. Rules and laws don't apply to us."
     Paul smiled doubtfully and took a swig of his beer. Whenever Connor got a few drinks him the boasting began, and only escalated the drunker he got.
     "I'm telling you my life has changed since becoming part of Kai's crew," Connor said, waving his hand towards the house. "Keep showing him how valuable you are, and maybe your life can change too."
     He had to admit Connor definitely looked better. He was no longer the round, greasy haired guy Paul remembered. His brown hair was cut short and clean. Fit and trim, he held himself with a confidence he'd never demonstrated before. At six feet they stood eye to eye, and until now Paul never knew it. Connor had always stood hunched over, preferring to look at computer screens rather than people.
     It had been his skills with a computer that caught Kai's attention; and Connor's desire for cash and respect made him the perfect recruit. While Paul liked him, and usually got in touch when he was out west, he wasn't so sure about Kai. He couldn't pinpoint what it was, but he didn't trust him. The only reason he agreed to work with him was because of Connor. If all went well tomorrow, he'd see more money than he'd ever made on a single score before. It would be a step up, and maybe it was time he settled in an area for a while, started accumulating serious cash, and perhaps some status. Looking around he smiled. A three story house on the bluffs with a pool and a great view of the ocean. The five of them had worked well together over the past couple days. He and Kai had tied for most cars acquired. He didn't have to like the guy to work with him.
     Connor had just started another story when Paul noticed two girls glancing at him and putting their heads together. While they were wearing bikinis and colorful wraps, from the state of their hair and makeup it was obvious they hadn't dipped a toe in the water. The discussion went on for a while, until they both stood and walked around the pool. Connor noticed he wasn't paying attention and turned around. Seeing the girls he smiled and elbowed him in the side.
     "I'm Cember," the honey haired girl said. "And this is Katlyn."
     Paul smiled at Katlyn, taken with her green eyes and curly red hair. She had a small dusting of freckles over her nose, and he found himself wanting to kiss each and every one. She smiled shyly at him and looked at her friend.
     Cember cleared her throat and said, "We were wondering. What are you? Asian or Latino? I say Asian, but Katlyn thinks Latino."
     "Oh my God how ignorant." Her bright blues eyes flashing, Leah put down her drink and pushed herself gracefully off the lounger. Flipping her long brown hair over a shoulder, she planted her hands on her hips and stared daggers at them. The blond highlights in her hair shimmered in the sun, and with her sun kissed skin and full red lips she looked radiant, and angry.
     Katlyn and Cember appeared to wilt and looked around slightly panicked.
     "That was racist and rude," Leah said. "Are you really that drunk already or just that stupid?"
     "Aww, leave them alone," Kai said, walking up behind her. "Paul doesn't care. Do you Paul?"
     He was used to people giving him second glances, squinting a touch as they tried to decide where he belonged. He'd gotten his mother's thick black hair, and the slight tint of blue looked like waves when he brushed it back from his forehead, always eliciting smiles and requests to touch it from women. His eyes were rounder than his mother's, and the hazel, with a tiny starburst of yellow around the irises, kept people guessing.

     "No, it's fine," Paul replied. "My mom was Chinese, and my father's white. German and Irish I think."
     "I'm Irish!" Katlyn exclaimed.
     "I never would have guessed," Paul said smiling. Everyone laughed but Leah, and Paul put an arm around Katlyn, who looked up at him returning his grin.
     "See," Kai said, wrapping his arms around Leah and kissing her shoulder. "He isn't offended. Who would be when pretty girls take an interest in you? Right Paul?"
     Paul nodded in agreement and Kai laughed. Leah still looked annoyed, but smiled sweetly when he turned her head to face him. They were definitely a gorgeous couple. With Kai's dark good looks and self-confidence he stood out, throw in his Irish accent and all the girls at the party flirted with him. While he flirted back, his eyes always found Leah, who flirted with no one. She kept pretty much to herself, except for jumping to Paul's defense.
     He and Katlyn hit it off and he found himself sitting in a lounger and kissing all those freckles. After a couple hours she had to go to work but promised to come back after her shift.
     Tired, high, and drunk, Paul went looking for a place to nap. Finding an unoccupied bedroom, he stumbled inside and fell onto the bed. Something tickled his nose, and the more he brushed it away the further up his nose it went. When he finally got a mouthful he opened his eyes and saw purple ruffles all over the bed spread. Mumbling under his breath, he rolled onto his back and caught sight of glow in the dark stars on the ceiling. He smiled sleepily, remembering putting those up with his sister when he was a kid.

***************

     He took a deep breath, steadily filling every corner of his lungs with air. Just as deliberately he let it out, pushing out the tension. Rolling his neck, he picked up the file, the irritation under control. That was getting harder to do.
     The cravings were coming with more frequency and intensity. Violent and sadistic urges were dominating not only his dreams, but his waking thoughts as well. His blood was a raging fire flowing through his veins, turning him into a simmering volcano. He was cooking, the blood changing and reforming him, turning him into a more perfect being. He needed to feed constantly, and it was painful when he didn't, making him want to lash out at everyone who crossed his path. He was managing, but it was time to retreat from the others before the rage and bloodlust took over completely. His employees were already tiptoeing around, even more than usual. There were so few who weren't afraid of him, and these days he reveled in it. The quality of their recruits of late left a lot to be desired in his eyes. So weeding out the weak and making examples of them inspired the rest to reach their full potential, and provided a certain entertainment for him, curbing the rage. A win win as far as he was concerned.
     The car door opened and Burke slid silently onto the car seat across from. "There is a problem."
     He closed the file and waited, one eyebrow raised.
     Burke cleared his throat and said, "Mr. Dupree’s buyers are indeed supposed to show tonight. Furthermore he has acquaintances visiting, a couple of which are highly intoxicated and belligerent. The more aggressive of the young men is already dead and the others have been subdued."
     "Christ! You tell those..." He trailed off, stunned at the sight before him. A woman with long curly blond hair, wearing black pants and black hooded coat with a well-worn purse sling over her shoulder, was walking into the building heading directly for the book dealers.
     "How in the hell did she just walk up to the door?" he demanded. "Get out there, find our sentries and clean up this f*****g mess!" He threw the file and flung open the door. "I will take care of the woman."
     Burke took off while he headed inside. An ear-piercing scream cut through the air, followed by the sound of running feet. He opened the door and saw a young woman being run down by one of his enforcers.
     "Please help me!" she cried. "Please. He's going to kill me!" The enforcer got hold of her and forced her to her knees. Tears streamed down her face as she stared at him, her eyes filled with hope.
     He stepped closer and said in a reassuring tone, "It's going to be alright. I promise this will all be over soon." Shifting his gaze to the enforcer, his voice and eyes hardened. "Robert, if there are any more fuckups I will hang you by your ankles and gut you from nuts to neck. And trust me, I will make it last a long while."
     The young woman was staring at him terrified, all her hope gone. He tenderly brushed her chestnut hair over her shoulder and said, "Tie this one up. I will be there shortly to honor my promise." He strode off looking for the other one, and she started wailing. "And for Christ's sake, shut her up!"
     A thud vibrated through the floor as she was silenced mid scream.
     "Sir," Robert called after him. "There's another loose in the building, that's how this one got free."
     He didn't bother answering, his instincts were kicking in. Time to hunt.

                                                    ***************

     Paul bolted upright, and looked around disoriented. For a split second he thought he'd heard someone screaming his name. He shook his head dispelling the fog and pulled his cigarettes from his pocket. He only smoked when he drank, and he was surprised to see two thirds of the pack gone already. Still fairly drunk, he swung his legs off the bed and searched for his lighter. Fumbling through his pockets a flash of red on the floor caught his attention. He made a grab for it and fell off the bed.
     "Nobody saw it so it didn't happen," he muttered under his breath.
     He reached for the lighter and hesitated. It looked strange, and he shifted to get a better look at the rug underneath him. A horse head, with a flowing mane of brown and purple, was set against a white backdrop. His lighter was sitting in the horse's eye, making it look demonic. Uneasiness rolled through him, and he really looked at the room. The walls were a soft purple, with pictures of horses everywhere. Bare spaces made things look off, and on closer inspection he saw nail holes. Photos were missing. The white dresser, nightstand, and bureau had purple and pink scrolling, and were bare of any knick knacks.
    Paul climbed to his feet and opened the closet door. It was filled with girl's clothing, and the missing photos and knick knacks were on the floor. Grabbing one, he saw a young girl with dark hair and eyes, standing next to a horse and grinning ear to ear. Maybe fourteen or fifteen, she was wearing riding clothes and holding a blue ribbon, proud of her win. Paul put the photo back and shut the door. This was not Kai's house.
     He walked out of the bedroom and ran smack into Connor. He stumbled back and saw panic flash across Connor's face. "Hey Paul," he said, shakily. "I didn't know you were up."
     "What's going on Connor?"
     "What do you mean?"
     "Where are the real owners of this place?" he said, rubbing the back of his now aching head. He needed another drink. "Did you do one of those B&B things? Housesitting?"
     Connor suddenly laughed, all the tension disappearing. "You caught us. Damn, and I thought we were being clever. But do me a favor, don't tell anyone ok? It ruins the image we're cultivating. You know, wealth, power, and all that crap."
     Paul shook his head, the uneasiness persisting.
     "Really Paul, its all part of the fun. You should have seen the mansion we stayed in last week!"
     For a moment he considered getting his things and leaving. But he'd be crazy to walk away from the payoff. He would do the job tomorrow, get his cash and leave. "Alright," he said. "No problem."
     Connor laughed, and clapping him on the back, led him out to the pool. Shaking off the unease, he grabbed a beer and settled in, looking forward to Katlyn coming back. He noticed Leah glancing at him occasionally, but she didn't initiate a conversation. She stayed in a corner sipping her drink and watching.

***************

    The screaming stopped Serena cold, the horror and hopelessness saturating the very air. Then silence. The knots in her stomach, combined with the uncontrollable shaking, made it difficult to move. She tried closing her eyes and taking deep breaths but that only made it worse. All she could see was the guy lying on the floor, neck practically ripped in two, and his head bent so far back he looked like a checkmark. But a checkmark with bulging dead eyes and a face frozen in a grotesque smile.
     "Find a phone," she breathed. She was hiding in an office, there had to be one. She crawled out from under the desk and poked her head up. Sticking out from under a pile of papers was a phone. She grabbed it and dialed 911. Nothing happened. She checked the cord, and it was plugged into the phone and the wall. Serena just stared. Her phone was in the car. No hiding in the office till help arrived, she had to find a working phone.
     Serena took off her shoes in case she needed to move fast, and when she reached for her purse, she realized it was gone. The tug on her arm while she was running. The strap finally broke. No purse no keys, no keys no car.

     "Oh my God," she whispered. "This just keeps getting better and better."
     Trying to remember where she'd lost the purse was futile, she couldn't roam through the building looking for it. She climbed to her feet and pressed her ear to the door. After a few minutes she opened the door a crack, and seeing no one, ventured out. In the center of the pod were desks, four rows of three. On the opposite side of the room was a map of the building, the big red, you are here, clearly visible. She picked up the closest phone and her stomach dropped. No dial tone. She tried every phone, and none of them worked. She figured they must have done it, that way they could hunt her down without worrying about the police. Whoever they were.
     Serena studied the map, relieved to see the south hallway was only a few turns from the pod. If all went well she could out of the building in minutes. She wished she was still in the shape she was a year ago, but insomnia had created some bad habits. The extra padding, coupled with the terror, was leaching her strength away, making her muscles rubbery and useless. Taking some deep breaths she focused on the end result and willed herself to move.
     "Panicked people die, calm people live," she whispered.
     Apprehension weighed her down, making her legs heavy every time she passed a doorway, but she pressed on, and little by little made it through the first hallway. The second was even shorter, and with only restrooms and a storage closet, less doors to worry about.
     Scraping behind her head, screaming her location like a siren, sent terror shooting through her limbs. She looked over her shoulder and saw her hood snagged on a fire extinguisher. It was hanging diagonally on the wall, another step and it would have crashed to the floor. She carefully slipped her arms out of her jacket and lifted it off the extinguisher. Looking up and down the hall, she expected to see attackers running towards her, but no one appeared. A couple shaky breaths later, she folded her jacket over her arm and kept moving, the anxiety deepening.
     Serena felt like she was on a collision course she couldn't avoid, and her heart ached from the terrifying certainty of it. It reminded her of being behind the wheel, knowing you were about to slam into another car, and nothing would prevent it.
     She approached the next turn, listening for the barest hint of sound. After thirty seconds of silence, she stepped into the open. She moved as quietly and quickly as she could, fighting the urge to run. She was halfway down the hall when a man stepped into view, blocking her way out. Serena froze, her heart in her throat.
     "I was working late and heard screaming," he said. "I thought I was going crazy until I saw you."
     Her heart swelled and she was flooded with relief. She knew that voice. Opening her mouth, she started to step towards him then stopped, the greeting dying on her lips. She'd never seen him before.
     He took a couple steps in her direction and reached out, motioning for her to follow. "We need to get out of here. I don't want to find out what can make a person scream like that. Do you?"
     She didn't respond. He had the right expression of urgency, and his body was taught with tension, but something was off. Not only was he dressed too well, but people with the kind of money to wear a Patek Phillipe, like the one that poking out from under his sleeve, didn't have offices in this building. From his perfectly kept hair, to his manicured nails, down to his impeccably polished shoes, it all screamed out of place. She backed up, and when he matched her step for step she knew he was one of them.
     Suddenly he lunged for her arm, but got a handful of her jacket instead. She shoved the jacket and shoes at him and ran back the way she'd come. He stumbled back in surprise, giving her a few seconds head start. She could hear him, right on her heels, as she reached the restrooms. Grabbing the fire extinguisher, she ducked down just in time. His fist hit the wall where her head had been with enough force to punch through, showering her with bits and pieces of the wall. Still in a crouch, Serena spun, smashing the fire extinguisher into his legs. His feet went out from under him and she jumped up running.
     Hitting the south hall, she put all her energy into reaching the stairs. Once there, escape was only two floors away. Then she heard him coming fast. He'd overtake her before she made it out. She hit the stairwell and turned, holding the extinguisher like a baseball bat.
     He slowed down a bemused an expression on his face. When she took a step toward him he stopped entirely regarding her with a mixture of amusement and respect. "You've got a backbone, I'll give you that. But the game is over now, you're caught."
     Serena was terrified, but to have him arrogantly tell her she was caught, infuriated her. "Go to hell!"
     Lowering his head a touch, he stared at her from under his brow, a small smile on his face. He approached a touch more cautiously, but relishing every moment of the kill.
     Serena had only one idea and she wasn't sure it was going to work. She was trying to change her grip on the extinguisher without him noticing when he stopped moving. His smile disappeared, the color drained from his eyes, and they started shining. Panic welled up inside her, all the confidence she'd gained from getting the best of him twice gone.
     He chuckled low in his throat. "Figure it out yet?"
     He smiled and she almost dropped the fire extinguisher. "Oh my God," she breathed, staring at fangs.
     "There we go," he said, and came at her.
     She pulled the pin on the extinguisher and took a giant step back. Hanging in the air for a second, she came down hard a few steps down. Her right foot twinged but she couldn't baby it. She ran down the stairs, praying he would trip, fall, something, anything that would give her a shot at escaping.
     A deep growl echoed through the stairwell and she was lifted up from behind. She thrashed around trying to throw him off balance, and hit him with the fire extinguisher. Smashing her heel into his thigh, she threw an elbow at his face, but he dodged and let his grip slip enough for her to hit the steps hard. Her right ankle buckled and an involuntary cry of pain escaped. He spun her around and shoved her at the wall. She smacked into it, then fell down the last few steps to the landing. The extinguisher flew out of her hands, hit the wall, and tumbled down the stairs. Serena climbed to her feet, even though her ankle was screaming, and made for the stairs, hearing the extinguisher smack into the doors below. She was lifted off the ground and slammed into the wall. Torrents of pain shot up her back and neck, but still she fought. She tried to punch him, but he grabbed her arm and slammed her into the wall again. Her head hit too, and everything went in and out of focus. Spent and in pain she hung there barely conscious.
     Once he was satisfied she was no longer going to fight, he let her slide down the wall until her toes touched the floor. Grinning ear to ear, he got a handful of her hair and yanked her head back. Serena tried one last time to struggle but it was useless. Burning pain ripped through her neck, growing in intensity every second until she wanted to unleash the scream building in her chest. So when the darkness came, she surrendered to it gratefully.

               ***************

    It took every ounce of self-control he had not to drain the woman dry. He wanted too. He wanted to tear her apart and lap up every last drop of blood in her body. It would be so easy. He tightened his grip, the craving overruling his control. His fangs pressed into her skin and he hesitated. It really wasn't a bad idea. She could be useful to him. She fought back and managed, however briefly, to hold her own. No begging or pleading for her life, no screaming either. Strange behavior and a little intriguing. He wondered what would make her scream if being confronted with certain death hadn't. There were definitely possibilities with this one.
     The last trophy had been a mess, in every possible way. Insanity has a tendency to do that. The experience soured him on the whole thing, and he hadn't claimed a trophy in years. But this one was a fighter, she could be strong enough to make it worth his while. Hunting her had been quite a gratifying diversion. And he did require a consistent source of sustenance to sate his cravings.
     He released his grip on her hair and lowered her to the floor. Taking slow, deep breaths, he sat on the steps and closed his eyes. The flame burned brightly in his mind, and he squeezed and released certain muscles, siphoning the heat into it. Gradually his fangs retracted and his eyes returned to normal. His body temperature was still high, but his violent and volatile urges were no longer a threat to his control. He opened his eyes and looked at his trophy, her blood tasted good. His eyes shone briefly and he reminded himself that the screamer was waiting for him downstairs. The tension eased even more at that thought and he picked up his unconscious trophy. When she woke, he'd see if she was worth keeping alive. He started down the stairs thinking about his cellar. It needed a new mattress.

***************

     Paul finally gave up on Katlyn. It was too bad, he'd been looking forward to seeing if she had freckles anywhere else on her body. He stumbled inside the house, almost falling flat on his face. He'd been drinking heavily trying to dispel the unease, but it had only deepened. He needed to knock it off and find a place to crash. He took great pride in what he did, and he wasn't going to let a day of partying screw anything up.
     He opened the door to the purple bedroom and saw two people in the bed. Laughing under his breath he closed the door, and wandered through the house finding most rooms occupied in a similar manner. He started down the corridor leading to the pool house and pulled out his cigarettes. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed something was off. Wood paneling lined the hall, and to his right the railing didn't quite match up. Paul smiled, he loved the idea of a secret room. Bed, couch, or chair, he needed sleep. Once he knew it was there it was easy to see the hidden handle. He opened the door and fumbled for his lighter with one hand, while searching for the light switch with the other. The door swung shut just as he flipped the switch. Something moved in his periphery and he looked up. All the air was sucked out of the room, and the cigarette he'd been about to light fell from his lips.
     The girl from the photos was staring at him and she wasn't alone. Another girl, maybe a few years older, was sitting next her on a full size bed. They were both wearing white teddies, and were secured to the headboard with their wrists tied behind their back. Gagged, they stared at him terrified. On the floor in a corner was a woman who had to be the girl's mother. She was lying on her side, her hands and feet tied, and connected behind her back. By the torn clothing and bruises she'd fought tooth and nail. She struggled, her desperate gaze on her children.
     Paul backed up, smacking into the door. "What the f**k?" he whispered.
     Suddenly the door moved and he lurched forward. The girls whimpered in fear, and their mother's struggling intensified. Connor appeared, standing half in and half out of the room. "Paul," he said shaking his head, "this is bad."
     Connor grabbed his arm dragged him into the hall, firmly shutting the door behind them.
     "Holy s**t!" Paul exclaimed. "The family is on vacation right?"
     He pulled his phone out of his pocket and Connor knocked it to the floor. Paul figured even drunk he could probably take him. Then he could call the police and get the family untied before anyone else knew what was happening.
     "I told you rules and laws don't apply to us," Connor said. "We take what we want, and we wanted them, and the house."
     "What the f**k is wrong with you? This is kidnapping and rape! There's nothing you can say that justifies what you're doing."
    "One of the many perks that comes with being what we are," Kai said, walking up behind him with the other two, Leon and Corey, at his heels. "We don't have to justify anything to anyone."
     Paul shifted, trying to keep them all in view. Kai smiled and he was jumped from behind. Searing pain tore through his neck, and for a split second he thought he was being stabbed. But when Corey and Leon latched onto his wrists he realized Connor's teeth were buried in his throat.
     "Alright," Kai said. "Let him go."
     Instantly Paul hit the floor. They stood over him blocking the light. There was no color in their eyes anymore, and fangs were protruding from their top and bottom gums. They exchanged glances and leered at him.
     "It's too late to bring someone new up to speed. We need him." Kai crouched down and tousled his hair. "It's your lucky day brother."
     They kept going in and out of focus, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't lift his hands off the ground. One word kept repeating in his mind as he passed out. Vampires.

               ***************

     The things had stopped throwing themselves against the door, and Ben hadn't heard a sound for at least ten minutes.
     "I can't believe I'm actually saying this," Miller said, through clenched teeth, "but what do we know about vampires?"
     Stake through the heart," Ben replied. "The ones we shot in the head went down. Sunlight?"
     "We won't make it till sunrise, and there's no guarantee that's real. A bullet may work as well as a stake. There's always fire, everyone burns. We don't have holy water unless you're holding out on me."
     "No sir," he replied. "Just a knife at this point."
     "You need to get clear and call for help. Take the gun and aim for the head. Don't miss."
     "How will you barricade the door when I'm gone? You can't move without help. We go together."
     Miller was about to respond when he suddenly gasped and held his fists up to his eyes. "Jesus Christ," he muttered.
     "We go together," Ben said, with finality.
     He finished bandaging the wound on Miller's neck and gun fire rang out. It wasn't close, but he pulled his knife while Miller pushed himself into a seated position, gun in hand. Ben cleared the door and opened it a crack, peering into the darkness. The door to the yard was still open and surrounded by bodies, not a living soul in sight.
     "Kneeling next to Miller he said, "Time to go."
      Miller put an arm around his shoulders and climbed to his feet, his face contorting in pain. "And the gunfire?"
     "Could be ours come looking."
     Miller chuckled under his breath and said, "Always the optimist."
     "The ex would disagree," Ben replied. He thought of her words to him when the divorce was finalized. If she only knew what he was in the middle of now. He'd like to know himself.
     They made their way towards the yard as quietly as possible, not hearing a thing. When they reached the door, Ben propped Miller against the wall then stepped outside. He put his goggles on and peered in every direction. The gate was wide open, which meant vampires were now scattered throughout the hills. He needed to get them far enough away to call for help, and find a spot he could defend until it arrived.
     When he walked back inside Miller's eyes were closed and he looked like he was about to topple over. Ben took his hand and wrapped his arm around his shoulders. "Ready?"
     Miller nodded, barely opening his eyes. Trying to jostle him as little as possible, Ben maneuvered him around the bodies and through the door. The loss of blood and strain on his face deepened the worry, and Ben’s sense of urgency grew.
     Miller's injuries prevented them from moving quickly, and they were only a few feet outside the gate when the hairs on the back of Ben's neck stood up. He eased Miller to the ground and turned, knife in hand. One of the red eyed vampires leapt at him, fangs dripping. Ben used his momentum against him and slammed him into the rock wall. Switching his grip, he drove the knife upward. The vampire grabbed his wrist with one hand while trying to free the other, which was pinned behind his back. The blade pierced the vampire's throat and his fangs snapped, barely missing Ben's nose. He shoved even harder and the vampire slumped over, the knife buried in its brain. Ben pulled the blade free and the creature hit the ground.
     "Bad a*s," Miller mumbled, trying to smile.
     Ben snorted and rubbed the back of his neck. There were more, he couldn't see them, but he could feel the threat. They both heard the scrape of nails on rock, and three vampires crawled over an outcropping, their eyes shining. Miller handed him the gun and Ben fired, dropping one instantly. The other two suddenly hissed and scrambled back. A figure flew past and tore into the beasts; a woman, the icy blues of her eyes catching the light of the moon. One vampire hit the ground its throat torn out, the other snarled, completely enraged, and lunged for her. They fell to the ground rolling, each trying to get the upper hand.
     "Lawrence," Miller said weakly, "behind you."
     As he turned the vampire hit him going for his throat. He stumbled back but managed to shove the vampire's chin up, keeping his mouth closed. He growled and clawed at Ben's arm, trying to break his hold. Getting the gun between them, Ben pulled the trigger and the vampire collapsed.
     "Are you injured?"
     Ben whipped up the gun and the woman stepped back holding her hands in the air. Covered head to toe in black, the blues of her eyes became a deep brown, and in a musical voice she said, "Easy soldier, I'm on your side."
     "Who are you?" he asked keeping the gun on her. "And what are you?"
     "My name is Aaliyah. When we spied your team moving in on the compound we got here as fast as we could. I'm sorry it wasn't fast enough for the others."
     "Spied?" When she pointed at the sky he said, "What are you?"
     "Werewolf."
     "Of course you are."
     Aaliyah's eyes focused on a point behind him, and he whipped around. One of the vampires was running effortlessly along the tops of jagged rock with another close behind. He shot the first in the head and it toppled, while the second leapt for him. He brought that one down and backed up to Miller. Eye shine appeared all around, and without a word Miller handed him a clip.
     Aaliyah's eyes were once again ice blue and she sidled towards them, scanning the area. She took position on one side of Miller, and Ben the other. Faintly he heard the howl of a wolf, then another, and the vampires charged. He fired, bringing one down with every shot. All of a sudden he was surrounded by four of them, and cut off from Aaliyah and Miller. She saw, but couldn't leave Miller to help. Ben deflected teeth as each of the four tried to latch on. A sharp pain erupted along his arm and he slashed the neck of one trying to claw his skin off. Blood poured from his throat, and he stumbled back, disappearing into a wall of others. Ben's feet were pulled out from under him, and he twisted as he hit the ground, trying to stay on his back. One grabbed hold of his wrist and Ben stabbed him the eye, freeing the gun. He fired, and another collapsed over his legs, the heavy weight of his body keeping Ben pinned down as the last of the four went for his throat.

     The vampire was suddenly yanked off him. Large thick canines shone brightly in the beam of a flashlight, and the vampire started thrashing wildly and hissing in terror. A brawny, black haired, yellow eyed man, wrapped a massive hand around the vampire's neck and crushed it's throat. His brows furrowed and his lip curled back in disdain, and then the vampire soared through the gate, landing with a thud in the yard. The werewolf looked down, and Ben watched in amazement as the yellow turned to brown, his canines receded, and even his extrusive brow diminished.
     He offered Ben a hand and said, "You look like you've done this before. I apologize for the swarm, we we're herding them back to the compound."
     Others were dragging bodies into the yard while another knelt next to Aaliyah to help with Miller. Gunfire echoed through the hills and no one flinched. Ben looked at the man curiously.
     "Stragglers. Our narrative has to be flawless, or they'll see right through it."

**************

     He walked into the book dealer's and set the woman on the floor in the corner. Taking off his black coat and suit jacket, he carefully laid them over the back of a chair. He rolled up his sleeves and turned around.
     Six pairs of eyes were fastened on him. Surrounded by his enforcers, their captives were bound, gagged, and on their knees. The young woman had an expression of utter terror on her tear streaked face, and one of the men glanced at her worriedly.
     "Mr. Dupree," he said in a friendly manner. "It was such a mediocre day wasn't it? Just like every other, then low and behold fate drops the unusual into your proverbial lap. A life decision follows. Of course it didn't seem like that at the time, they so rarely do. So pay attention because here's another one. Who dies first? The girl or her boyfriend straining at his bonds? You wanted to be important. Now I'm giving you the ultimate power over your friend's lives."
     The moment the gag was removed Dupree fell over himself begging for mercy, insisting it was all a big misunderstanding. He listened with growing amusement as Dupree tried to bargain his way out of the situation, becoming more frantic with every word. Seeing the laughter in his eyes unhinged Dupree further. He started babbling incoherently, spittle flying from his mouth.
     His lip curled slightly in disgust and he motioned for Burke to take care of it. At six foot seven, with long arms ending in thick, gnarled hands that could cover a person's entire face, Burke towered over almost everyone. His deep set eyes, Neanderthal like jaw, and low gravelly voice completed the persona of the brainless henchman. But it was a ruse. He was intelligent and cunning, with a fondness for violence that made him perfect for his job.
     Burke backhanded Dupree across the face sending him sprawling. He lay on his side breathing hard, tears pouring down his cheeks. Burke leaned over, and none too gently, cut his arms free, then yanked him up into a seated position. Smacking him upside the head for good measure, Burke snapped his fingers in front of Dupree's face. "Where is our property Chris?"
     "Will you let me go?" Dupree stammered.
     Burke grasped his hand and said, "You can't for a moment believe you're walking out of here. I will do you one favor though, because I'm just that sort of guy. Tell me right now where the books are and I swear I'll kill you quickly." He tightened his grip on Dupree's hand and leaned in close. "Once I start breaking fingers, it won't matter how many times you scream their location. I won't stop until every bone in your body is broken."
     Dupree just stared at him stupefied, and then Burke grabbed his index finger. "I'll tell you!" Dupree screamed. "I'll tell you!"
     Burke smiled approvingly, but didn't let go. "Where are they Chris?'
     "There's a case in the closet," he replied, motioning towards a door at the back of the room. "The books are in the false bottom."
     Everyone looked at him and he said, "Robert."
     The room was silent as Robert rifled through the closet. "Got them sir."
     "Now that wasn't so hard was it?" he said, when Robert handed him the books. "You had absolutely no idea what fell into your lap Mr. Dupree." Looking at the two men who were bound hand and foot, and slightly apart from the others, he smiled and held up the books. "You were so close weren't you? Pity. It doesn't seem like the Order can catch a break these days does Burke?"
     The two men stiffened at the word order, and Burke barked a laugh.
     He walked over to his things and placed the books on the chair. Crouching down next to the woman he checked her pulse and eyes. She'd be out for some time, so he didn't see the point of bindings, at least not yet. He rolled his neck and stood, fixing his gaze on their captives. They knew it was over, he could see it in their eyes.
     "Please!" Dupree screeched, as Burke drove his fangs into his neck.
     "Since Mr. Dupree was unable to decide which of you dies first I think we should just get on with it," he said. "After all, I did promise the young lady this would all be over soon."
     He grabbed the boyfriend and dragged him to his feet. Pulling his head straight back, he tore into his neck. The blood roared in his ears, and he extended his bottom fangs, biting even harder. The young man struggled, and the sadistic urges surged as the predator dominated his prey. He ripped the man's jugular open, spraying the last of his blood on the wall, and the young woman at his feet.
     Burke joined in, jerking the other man up by his head. Drinking his fill, he threw the body on top of Dupree's.
     The two men from the Order were forced to watch the horror show, trying desperately to work their bonds loose. They knew it would be far worse for them.
     The young woman writhed on the floor covered in blood. When he threw her boyfriend's lifeless body onto the pile, she screamed behind her gag. His chest heaved from the rush of the kill, and the fire coursing through his veins turned the craving for more into an impossible to resist need. He looked down at his prey, and her screams reached new heights of terror and pitch.
     "Sh, hush now," he said, crouching down. He brushed the hair from her face, and her eyes rolled every which way looking for a savior, but all she was him. She tried talking behind the gag, and wholly entertained, he removed it. The moment her mouth was free she begged for her life. He listened for a moment, appearing to seriously consider her pleas. Then he looked at her ruefully and shook his head. Grasping her shoulders, he pulled her to her feet.
     "No. Please. Please don't!" she wailed. She tried to wriggle from his grasp, crying and gasping for air. "God help me, I don't want to die. I swear I won't tell anyone. I swear! Please!" She stumbled against him, so exhausted from terror, her legs could barely support her.
     "No living witness my dear," he said softly.
     He pulled her head back, and she screamed as he drove his fangs into her neck. He drank deeply, savoring every ounce of her blood. He could feel her heart beat through his teeth, and smell her cheap perfume, mixed with sweat, laundry detergent, and cigarettes. As her heart hit the limit of its endurance he drove his teeth in deeper, pulling as much blood from her body as he could. At the very moment it stopped, he clamped down like a vice, snapping her neck. Overcoming the urge to rip her apart, so he could squeeze every last drop of blood from her organs, he dropped her. Intoxicated from the blood and violence of the evening, he shut everything else out encapsulating himself in the pleasure coursing through his veins. The blood transforming the burning into bliss.
     "Sir?"
     "Yes Robert?"
     "Burke wanted me to give this to you."
     He opened his eyes and saw Robert holding a towel. Giving the two men from the Order a sideling glance, he took the towel and began wiping the blood from his face. "So Burke, how much was the Order going to pay Mr. Dupree for our books?"
     Burke pulled on a clean shirt and looked at the ceiling like he was calculating numbers. "A staggering amount of money. If Chris was telling the truth that is."
     "Really? A staggering amount?" He pulled off his soiled shirt and tie and placed them in a bag. Taking a bottle of water from Robert, he leaned over and poured the water all over his hair. He soaked a towel and wiped the blood from his neck, chest, hands, and arms. Taking one last towel, he strolled over to the two men, drying himself off. "What I'm curious to know is how the Order learned of the estate."
     Both men stared him dead in the eyes and kept perfectly still. He knew they wouldn't talk, not here, not yet. He would make them, and felt a rush of adrenaline at the thought. It had been awhile since he'd gotten hold of a Knight of the Order, now he had two. He smiled and said, "We'll talk again soon."
     They exchanged glances, and closed their eyes. He knew they were praying, and almost rolled his eyes at the futility. Dragging a comb through his hair he looked at Burke, and said, "I do love how prepared you are for any eventuality."
     Burke grinned and handed him a clean undershirt. "Always be ready for a night of blood and wine. We've had the blood, now I'm ready for the wine."
     The others laughed, and started chiming in with their own ridiculous sayings. The expression on his face silenced them all immediately. "Considering you fucked this up to the point I had to come in and chase down a stray, you should all be grateful to be walking out of here alive. Think on that over your wine."
     He looked at each of them one more time and walked over to his things. Sliding the books inside the pockets, he proceeded to get his coat on.
     "How do you want this handled?" Burke asked.
     "Secure our two guests at the stables, I will take it from there."
     "And this place?"
     "Controlled burn. Incinerate this room and a portion of the building if necessary. Up two floors there's a hole in the wall, and a bit of a mess from a fire extinguisher." When Burke arched an eyebrow in surprise, he glance at the unconscious woman. "She was resourceful."
     Burke chuckled in response, and after a brief flare of anger he relaxed. He instructed they do a full sweep of the building, and took one last look around.
     "What about this one?" Burke asked, looking at the woman.
     "Spoils."
     Burke chuckled again, and said, "Stay unpredictable. It keeps everyone else on their toes."
     "I'll keep that in mind," he said, picking her up.
     Burke led the way, opening doors and popping the trunk. He threw him the keys and said, "Enjoy your late night snack."
     "More than a late night snack," he said, watching Burke reenter the building. He brushed her thick curls over her shoulder and caressed her neck, her heartbeat almost electric beneath his fingers. "I have other plans for this one."
     He shut the trunk and slid behind the wheel whistling, immensely satisfied with how the evening had turned out.

***************

    "Narrative?" Ben asked.
     "Mr. Lawrence, my name is Kabir. Once we became aware of your team moving in on the compound we couldn't in good conscience do nothing. Unfortunately you and Mr. Miller are the only survivors."
     "Who are you?" Ben asked, keeping one eye on the others.
     "Friends. The intelligence indicating this as a terrorist compound should have been flagged by our contacts. I am truly sorry Mr. Lawrence, this shouldn't have happened."
     "It's just Lawrence or Ben," he replied. "You got to us pretty quickly."
     Kabir nodded once and turned his attention to Aaliyah, deftly avoiding Ben's questions. "How is he?"
     "He's been bitten multiple times and his body cannot replace the amount of blood lost," she replied. "We need to-"
     "He's turning," Kabir said, starting towards them.
     Aaliyah backed away from Miller, her eyes filled with shock. "It's not possible. What have they done?"
     Ben raised the gun, pointing it between Kabir's eyes. He stopped and said, "Look at him Ben. He's turning into a berserker. Nothing can be done for him now. I'm sorry."
     Ben glanced at Miller. His gaze was fixed on a point above him, and red veins were spiraling through the whites of his eyes.
     "Ben," Kabir said quietly. "The man you know is disappearing, and what's left will attack. If all it takes is bite from one of those things to turn you, we are all in danger."
     "Lawrence," Miller whispered.
     He lowered the gun and knelt down. "Yeah brother?"
     "He's right," Miller whispered raggedly. "I already can't..."
     Ben took his hand and rested the gun on his chest. Miller nodded, looking at him scared and in terrible pain, and Ben wrapped both their hands around the gun. He watched Miller's irises enlarge, swallowing the blue, and the red veins coalesce, erasing the whites completely. The light of humanity went out and he kept still, waiting. Suddenly Miller's black and red eyes focused on him, and fangs sprang from his gums.
     Ben pulled the trigger. Silence surrounded them, and he rested his head on their hands.
      A hand alighted on his shoulder, and Aaliyah said, "I'm so sorry, but we need to go. Others will be here soon to investigate, and we cannot be here when they arrive."
     "What others?' he asked, standing up.
     "The ones responsible for this," she replied.
     A series of explosions reduced to the compound to a raging inferno of rubble.
     "All evidence of our presence has to be erased," Aaliyah said. "We don't have time to be subtle."
     Kabir picked up Miller and hoisted him over his shoulder. Two others produced what looked like milk jugs and started spraying liquid all over the area. A horrendous smell assaulted his senses and Ben jerked back coughing. He was already feeling light headed and the noxious odor was making it worse. "What the hell is that?"
     Aaliyah gave him a small smile. Camouflage."
     "Bird is circling back and will be landing over that ridge," a man said to his left.
     "Lead the way," Kabir said.
     They followed as he picked the easiest path through the terrain. Aaliyah stayed close to Ben, while the two with the jugs covered their tracks with the foul liquid. Ben was hot, and with every step he felt fainter. He could hear the helicopter overhead, but he didn't dare look up. He was afraid he'd topple over.
     "Are you ok?" Aaliyah asked, concerned.
     "Fine," he lied.
     Rounding an outcropping, Ben saw the helicopter landing, and everything seemed to slow. The sound of the blades slicing through the air thrummed thickly in his ears, like they were moving through water, and the stars pulsed overhead in time with the blades. Aaliyah said something but he barely heard her through the fog. All he knew was his arm was itching, not just itching, burning. He tore at his shirt, desperate to make the burning stop. Then he saw it. An angry looking bite right above his elbow.
     "Oh s**t," he muttered.
     He looked up into the barrel of a gun. Everything started going in and out of focus, everything but Kabir's eyes, which were hard and resigned. Ben felt a sharp pain on the back of his head, and wondered just how many vampires and werewolves were in the world as he toppled to the ground.

                                                   ***************

     The wind roared through the mountains like a freight train. Ploughing into the building, it pushed through every crack and crevice until it whistled through the rafters of the shrine, rattling the bells. He opened his eyes and saw his silent companion glance at the bells then back and at him, an eyebrow raised.
     "Such portentous timing," he said, chuckling. After a moment he nodded in affirmation.