 
EVIL

ORIGINS

Family Secrets Book 1

J.D. Simser

J.D. Simser

Windsor, Ontario

Copyright © 2016 by J.D. Simser.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed "Attention: Permissions Coordinator," at the address below.

Find out more about the author and upcoming releases online at www.jdsimser.ca

Contact me at comments@jdsimser.ca

Publisher's Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author's imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

Editing by Hellene Meyer & S. Fournier

Evil Origins - Immortal Family Secrets Book 1/ J.D. Simser. -- 1st ed.

ISBN 978-1-988491-00-4

Contents

Preface

Chapter 01 – Renaud

Chapter 02 – Harrow

Chapter 03 – Mike

Chapter 04 – Jenny

Chapter 05 – Renaud

Chapter 06 – Mike

Chapter 07 – Jenny

Chapter 08 – Harrow

Chapter 09 – Renaud

Chapter 10 – Mike

Chapter 11 – Jenny

Chapter 12 – Harrow

Chapter 13 – Renaud

Chapter 14 – Harrow

Chapter 15 – Jenny

Chapter 16 – Mike

Chapter 17 – Renaud

Chapter 18 – Jenny

Chapter 19 – Mike

Chapter 20 – Harrow

Chapter 21 – Renaud

Chapter 22 – Jenny

Chapter 23 – Mike

Chapter 24 – Harrow

Chapter 25 – Renaud

Chapter 26 – Jenny

Chapter 27 – Mike

Chapter 28 – Renaud

Chapter 29 – Harrow

Chapter 30 – Jenny

Chapter 31 – Mike

Chapter 32 – Harrow

Chapter 33 – Renaud

Chapter 34 – Mike

Chapter 35 – Harrow

Chapter 36 – Renaud

Chapter 37 – Mike

Epilogue – Renaud

About the author
Preface

If you ask someone about witch trials, they will most likely think of Salem, Massachusetts. In my family, we think of an event that occurred around the same time 120 miles away in Hartford, Connecticut. It was the autumn of 1692 and like every good story, ours begins with a tragedy. My forefather, Ebenezer Barthélémy, wasn't a good man and the darkness in his heart would curse our blood line until the end of time. Ebenezer was a minister who dreamed of being a witch hunter. This isn't Ebenezer's story though. No, he is just the start of the stain on our family's soul. A thorn that every family whispers about, yet never truly wants to openly mention. It is because of him that the oldest of every generation present there after that day pays the price for his sins. I was lucky enough to be the second-born. I was born one minute and twenty-three seconds after my brother. One minute and twenty-three seconds made all the difference between knowing when you will die to the exact second and watching helplessly, wishing you could stop it.

Rumor had it that Ebenezer had a mistress named Achsah Basset, and in the summer of 1692 she found herself with child. Puritan New England was not the place to find yourself in such a situation. Achsah's troubles began that summer, but I don't think even she was aware of the horror that would befall on her. When she was accused of theft Ebenezer, who was a married man, saw a solution to his problem. He declared that she had "familiarity with the Devil" which, if proved, was a death sentence for the poor, misguided Achsah. After extensive whipping and torture, poor Achsah confessed to a number of things, from sleeping with the devil to consorting with familiars. Ebenezer made sure that the confession stuck and with its merit came a death sentence.

The execution was delayed until after the birth of the child. Ebenezer took his secret to the grave, and he and his wife took the child seemingly out of compassion and raised it as their own. Whether his wife was aware of Ebenezer's indiscretions or not will never truly be known. What we do know is that when they marched Achsah to the gallows, they asked if she wanted to confess her sins. She responded that she had no sins to confess, but for her accusers she only had these words.

"From this day until the end of time, I curse you. Like you stole my first born so shall I steal yours and every child born thereafter," and as she dangled there dying before them, a curse was born. That is my family bloodline's evil origin.
chapter ONE

Renaud

An empty, queasy feeling hit me like a kick to the stomach as I stared through the little circular cabin window and saw the sun set over the city skyline. It was like reliving my childhood over again, only this version didn't possess the childlike enthusiasm that it used to. I hadn't felt this feeling for in so long that it took me a few minutes to realize that it was heartbreak. It was an emotion I hadn't felt for so long that I could hardly believe it still existed within me. Heartbreak, like love and happiness, were human emotions and I wasn't human anymore. I was well aware that time had made me a monster. My soul was stained with darkness and like a disease, it ate away at my humanity until there was only an empty shell of the man I used to be. Not that I was a truly ever a righteous man or anyone else worth admiring.

It was a bittersweet moment as I stared through the dirt-stained glass, amazed by the beauty of the sunset. Hues of purple and pink were broken by streaks of neon yellow and orange. How many hours had I wasted with Jenny, staring at the blanket of color filling the sky? I had wasted so many moments and heartbeats on her only to be thrown away like used paper, discarded and easily forgotten. My happiest and worst memories were born here. An unforgettable first kiss that one can only share with their first love, the taste of betrayal that turns to hate as one realizes that the fairytale was just an illusion. All of these useless human emotions were brought back to life as I tried to wipe away the dirt to get a clearer view.

I ran my fingers along the short scruff of my beard, letting the scratching sensation dance along my skin as I tried to recall Jenny's image from memory, but I couldn't force it to the surface. I closed my eyes as I slowly pulled the little pieces of my past out of storage, sorting through the good and bad as if they were index cards. Yet, somehow I couldn't find a complete part of Jenny anywhere. The only trace of her that I could remember was the haunting image of those eyes that always screamed I need you more than I could ever explain. They had this sparkle of sadness that always made me want to reach out and hold her. Time had stolen every other part of her away like dust in the wind and yet something inside me longed for her. Even if I couldn't remember her face, those last words spoken between us always lingered on in the back of my mind, taunting me. If I still had a heart, I might even say that the look in her eyes as I blurted out that she was nothing but a common whore was like a ghost that I could never forget, haunting me forever. It was pain and fear that fueled my rage back then, making those few words slip out. I told her that she had choked the love out of my heart and I called it hatred, but even I knew it was a lie. Despite repeating it over and over again, I never believed it and no matter how much I begged for forgiveness, she never forgot it. The last thing she ever said to me was that I was a monster, and no matter how hard I tried, I could never forget those words. I wondered if Jenny would ever know how right she was with that simple statement. If she would one day look inside me and see the taint of darkness that now owned my soul like a slave to do its masters bidding. Something inside me kept whispering that we still had unfinished business. I had left too much unfinished business behind when I ran and now it was time to clean the slate. Tapping the window, I pondered just how much time he had left to clear up all his life debts. How much time would my master give me before he came to claim my soul once more. You never truly appreciate time until every heart beat dancing in your chest is like a stop watch counting down to zero second by second.

I felt the soft touch from Murlin's claws slowly drift across my neck, forcing my whole body to shiver uncontrollably. The endless cycle of torture and torment made the feeling of a gentle touch against my flesh as foreign to me as sleeping in a bed or drinking clean water. Another side effect of my isolation. I went from craving human contact to dreading it like every touch was a personal violation. "Come now master," Murlin whispered. "We need to get you cleaned up. After more than a decade of being lost, you cannot just return home looking like a vagrant now, can you? You need to get cleaned up so you can play your part."

As she ran her hands across my face, the weathered skin on my palm scraped against the wide scar that ran from my forehead, across my eye, to my chin. I was sure it ran so deep that it cut into my skull, but I hadn't seen my face for in so long that I didn't remember what the man I used to be even looked like. My body had hundreds of scars just like it to remind me of my sins, and there were so many of them I had lost count. If only the world truly understood that actions and sins from this life followed into the next, perhaps they would reconsider their sins. My hands, once strong, seemed broken and weak like crooked twigs. So easily broken and forgotten.

"Oh stop feeling sorry for yourself," Murlin muttered. "You did the impossible." Her voice rising until it was almost an ear-piercing squeak. "You broke out of the ultimate prison. You climbed up from the very depths of Sheol." Almost dancing and with a grin from ear to ear, she continued. "I have served a thousand masters and loved them all like a good servant should, but I waited for you." Giggling, she raised an eye brow, "I knew that you would be the one that returned."

I knew that she wasn't lying or trying to build me up to boost my ego. Even if I didn't want a lifelong servant Murlin would always be by my side and never leave me, no matter what horrors might be hunting me. It was in her DNA. She was born to serve me and those like me. She'd stay until the very end as she had done for generations.

"Don't call me master!" I snapped. One thought lingered though. I did not crawl out like she imagined. No, I woke up free from torment and lost like a child in the wilderness until she found me. Whether she was waiting or searching for me, I would never know, but either way she was there when I needed her the most. She was always there for me when I needed her.

Smiling a crooked, sexy grin she leaned in and said, "I promised not to call you master outside in public, but we aren't outside and you are my master." Raising an eyebrow, she patted my ass and added, "As much as I was born to serve you; you were born to be my master." Twisting her hands together, she said, "It's our destiny to walk the world together until your last breath, then I will be drawn to a new master and the cycle will continue again." With that she started to run her fingers along the top of my eyes like a mother cleaning up her child before Sunday church services. With an adoring look in her eyes she added, "I can't remove all your scars. I don't have enough magic in me for that, but I can cover most of them up." After a slight pause she giggled, "Well most of the ones people can see, master, unless somebody sees you naked and then you are on your own."

My eyes started to water and burn as Murlin ran her hands across my face. The burning slowly made its way down my neck pushing its wait upwards until it cburned my heart and soul. "I don't need all the scars removed, just the ones people can see," I said through clenched teeth. The thought be being naked made my stomach curl. I thought that I could handle any pain, but magic was a much different. I knew magic this powerful hurt to use it as well as it did to receive. Stories and legends throughout the ages had distorted it into black or white, but it was much more primitive than that. Magic was a flame and the bluer it was, the hotter it burned. As of this I moment, I was enduring the full effects of it. My whole body twitched and tightened as I tried not to scream out.

"Oh stop, you big baby. You were born to use magic so I know you can handle it. We are almost done, anyway." She stared into my eyes with a confused look on her face. "I think I made your face too young."

"Too young?" I didn't think I would hear such a thing come from a woman's lips ever again, yet there it was.

"I think I will make you look twenty-something again. Nobody will wonder how it is possible you still look so young and handsome after all these years."

I tried not to smile, but I couldn't help myself. Murlin had this way of making me grin, even on my worst days. Well, most of them anyway.

"Let's just stick with thirty-something." I would prefer magic to keep the illusion and hide my true face until I could take a new one. It wasn't exactly the moral way of doing things, but life wasn't always going to let you be the knight in shining armor.

"As you wish, master," she said as she rolled her eyes.

Even the softest tapping on the metal door of the cabin boomed like thunder. As it broke through the silence it snatched me back to reality. It made Murlin howl as she returned to her savage form, back arched and hair standing on end. She was like a small cougar with her claws out, ready to pounce as the hinges made a screeching sound as it opened. She didn't trust smugglers and hadn't truly been calm throughout the whole trip. It had been an uneasy journey back from Romania back to Canada. There was something about being smuggled back to one's own homeland that made her suspect everyone onboard was out to get us. I had assumed it was the fact that she had lived so long and seen all the evils in men, leading to her only see the worst parts. The trip hadn't been as bad as I had thought it would be, so far. Of course, the cargo ship's crew either stared at me or ran away, treating me like I was an attraction at a freak show. I couldn't blame them. Hell, sometimes I caught Murlin trying to hide that she was staring at me. It was part of my life now. Nobody pointed, but they definitely stared straight at me, always trying to hide their horror.

I turned around to find the captain smiling at me through the doorway. His name was Forrest Pillay, and he glanced down at his feet holding his hat in his hands.

"Excuse me, Mister Barthélémy sir," he swayed from side to side, refusing to make eye contact. "We are about thirty minutes from your drop off point." He was a short, stout man with thick ape-like arms covered in prison made tattoos. He reminded me of a big church bell with his constant rocking back and forth. "If you recall, Mister Barthélémy sir, our deal was four thousand down and ten thousand when we arrived."

Digging into my pocket, I fumbled around until I grabbed a small envelope. I had already counted it out and had even added an extra thousand dollars for hush money. It wasn't much, but it was all I could spare until I got back home. I tossed the envelope towards him and he snatched it up, holding it in his hand like he could count it just by the weight. Smiling, he whispered in his thick South African accent, "Thank you, Mister Barthélémy."

"Aren't you going to count it?"

"Oh no, Mister Barthélémy sir. I have this gift you know. I can tell it's all there plus a little extra. I got this gift from my mother, you know, Mister Barthélémy sir. Yes, I have the gift." Slipping the envelope into his jacket pocket he continued. "One thing though," He shook his head and squeezed his hands together, "You see, Mister Barthélémy sir, the crew and I were talking and we feel that the risk we are taking is worth more than a lousy fourteen thousand dollars. We figure you must be wanted by the police or running from someone really bad, and that kind of risk should be worth more."

I should have figured that they were going to squeeze me for more money. This was a stupid, amateur mistake and I should have known better. I was desperate though, so desperate to sneak my way home undetected and unseen. These sorts of people are not the kind you trust and evidently they had gauged me as a punk ass bitch. Reaching into my pocket I pulled out a small stack of twenty's, but before I even counted them, I knew that it wasn't going to be enough. With men like this, it was never enough. Counting the bills one by one I finally got to five hundred and sixty dollars.

"This is all I have, I'm afraid."

Shaking his head regretfully he said, "Oh I am sorry Mister Barthélémy sir, but we were thinking more like five thousand at least." Raising an eye brow and tilting his head he added, "I am afraid that we must insist." This was followed by the sound of cracking knuckles as he opened and closed his fist. It was quite apparent that he was a seasoned professional at intimidation.

"You can insist all you want, but I only have five hundred and sixty dollars left to my name and that's all I can give you. What do you want me to do?" I was getting nervous watching the little troll scan the room, his eyes lit up with greed. I saw the shadows moving just beyond the doorway, explaining the captain's sudden courage. He had his crew ready to back up his demands.

The bastard was scanning the room with a scowl on his face. "Now Mister Barthélémy sir, if it was up to me I would say we should finish our business and go our separate ways, but the crew thinks you might have some number of valuables stashed away in here somewhere." Rubbing his fingers together, he continued, "Let's start with that fancy gold necklace hanging there around your neck. What's it worth? A thousand dollars, maybe a little more?"

Covering the amulet, I lied through my teeth.

"What, this old thing? It's not even real gold, it's just gold plated." The gold it was made from wasn't what made it priceless. It wasn't even the symbol it represented, despite what most people believed. It was the soul stone mounted inside its unicursal hexagram that made it both priceless and powerful. Any fool could twist triangles to make a fancy design and fools have been buying such trinkets since the beginning of time. However, once the right prayer was said and a powerful soul added, it became a powerful weapon. Too powerful to lose at the hands of common riffraff.

As he stepped further into the cabin, the captain continued to rub his grimy fingers together. "Now Mister Barthélémy sir, if it's such a useless little thing you won't mind sharing it with us, will you?"

"Captain Pillay, this little trinket has great sentimental value to me. It belonged to my father and he gave it to me just before he passed away."

Still smiling, he made his threat. "Unless you have something else to trade, the boys and I are going to have to insist you hand over the necklace and anything else we may want." Staring at Murlin he muttered, "You can keep the ugly black cat though." Looking to his lackeys behind him, he said "That's not exactly the kind of pussy cat we like, if you know what I mean, Mister Barthélémy," followed by laughter.

Murlin didn't hiss like most cats, she growled and went for the jugular. Her growls amused the captain even more and despite the glare I shot at her as I shook my head, she stood with her back arched, ready to pounce. She started to slowly pad towards them.

"Now I've seen everything! Mister Barthélémy has himself a guard cat! I never thought that I would see such a thing." Murlin's ears shot back and her howls grew deeper as she made her way towards him. Even after all these years, it still amazed me just how animalistic and savage she could be in that form. Of course, her other form was even more terrifying, and I hoped for the crew's sake that they never met that version of her. The captain laughed it off like it was nothing, but he couldn't be more wrong. He was seconds away from being mauled like a toy and yet all he could do was point and laugh. He wouldn't be laughing much longer though. Nobody laughed after Murlin was finished with them. Well, at least not until the wounds healed and she was miles away.

Pointing towards the door, he said "Now look here, sir. I don't want this to get ugly and I think that you know damn well there is a lot more of us then you, so just hand over the goods. After that, we can let you off the ship. Then you get to leave the past behind and start a new life in Canada. It's that easy."

I thought that even amongst thieves there must a code of honor. Hell, even crossroad demons, essentially the telemarketers of the underworld, had rules to follow. It was an unspoken thing, but it was still there.

"We struck a bargain and agreed to a price, but now you are telling me that your word has no meaning. The value of a man is in his word." I wanted to warn him to choose his next words carefully, but it wouldn't have made any difference. Murlin was already halfway through the air heading, with claws extended, right for the captain's throat before he finished his next threat.
chapter TWO

Harrow

"He's here, Daddy!" Mihael called out, through the thick tinted glass that protected us from the sunlight. I knew that he would return eventually, as I had a debt to pay and it was not one that would be easily forgotten. It reminded me of the saying an eye for an eye, but my debt was a lot steeper. What is the debt for a soul? For lost love and all those little sweet moments that people collect over a lifetime? That's the price he was owed and the price he had come to collect from me. Of course, I had already paid the price for betrayal with my isolation. I watched the world from the sidelines, living my life as an outsider rather than a participant. I couldn't imagine the price that he had paid for his sacrifice, but I could only imagine that mine was nothing compared to his.

"I can't wait to meet him again! The first time was so brutal," Mihaela sang out. The savage power and violence of their meeting excited her every time she thought of him. As an immortal, she had lived in the shadows for long enough to have forgotten about the blood bond that existed between brothers. She was blind to the danger that was slowly trudging along the river headed straight toward us. "When can I meet him? The last we met he so savage in his intent and actions."

"I am sure he will make a point to find us," I responded as I watched the sunset try to burn its way through the stained glass. I didn't miss the feeling on sunshine on my face, only the freedom that being alive provided. My kind ruled the night and hid in the shadows, preying on the weak and the people society wouldn't miss, but it was not freedom. I thought at the time that I was saving my life, but I just traded one curse for another.

Mihaela moved in a little closer and kissed my neck. There was a time when a beautiful woman kissing my neck made my whole body tingle, but those days are long gone. Another thing I missed and longed for. The touch of warm breath dancing along my neck and every fantasy that I had ever imagined failed when compared to this feeling. When I was child, I dreamed of being immortal. I craved the power that being almost godlike would offer and now that I had it I find myself craving being human again. It's like when that fat chick from high school loses weight. No matter how she tries to hide it she always craves a chocolate bar. Everybody sees the result of all the work she put in, but they always miss the internal battle that she fights. I was better than a human, but I still missed being one.

"Daddy, I'm so hungry!" Mihaela whimpered, like she always did. She thought that it was sweet and seductive, but truly it was annoying as hell. Another part of my immortality. She was my creator and I owed her my loyalty, no matter what she did or how many times I thought of ramming a stake through her heart. She demanded my love, but no matter how hard I tried, loyalty was all I could give her.

I watched the way her hips swayed beneath her thin, almost-translucent red dress as she walked towards the table. She was as graceful as a swan and so alluring that countless men went from being predator to prey without ever realizing what was occurring. That was the irony of a woman like Mihaela. She was once a victim in the darkest of times and now she took pleasure in being the beast that she once feared. Even now, the two young thugs sitting at the little folding table before us were staring at her with lust in their eyes.

"No Mihaela, we need them alive," I warned, trying to force my will on her but never really knowing if she was going to obey or defy my commands.

I watched the bigger of the two almost tremble in delight as she ran her fingers along his neck. He was too far under her influence for the pain to register as her nails scraped his skin, causing four trails of blood to begin flowing. Like me and all the other fools that ever found themselves caught in her web, he could only smile in delight as she bent down and licked his neck.

"Oh Daddy, I'm still being a good girl...I just wanted a little taste. So pure and young- I miss the taste of it. Don't you miss it too?" Mihaela asked, pouting. Slowly she walked around him, letting her cold hands run along his neck, still leaving scratches. Like a fool, he shivered as his eyes followed her. "I'm not going to kill them, I just want a little nibble."

"No," I said as I kicked an old faded chair, sending it rolling across the floor, causing a plumes of dust to rise into the air. "We need them too much for them to become toys!"

The chair whipped past her, breaking into kindling as it connected with the wall. The room wasn't much to look at, with cinder blocks on display through holes in the drywall. It wouldn't have taken much to cause the remaining drywall to collapse onto the floor. The university dorm had been abandoned long ago when they decided to build a new bridge, leading to us moving in like rats hiding in walls. Our exile in poverty would soon be over. One way or another, it would be over.

"But Daddy, our takeout isn't here yet and your kitten is so very hungry..." Both men were too blinded by her allure to even understand that in her eyes, they were on her preferred menu. She was carding her hands through the shorter of the two's hair and I could tell that she was just playing with her food now.

"I just want a little taste Daddy... I am so hungry," she whispered as she slowly began kneading his hair. The damn fool was almost purring as she got rougher and rougher. "Can't I play for just a little while?" Her hand slipped down his neck and she screamed, her hand having grazed the chain of the man's silver crucifix. She leapt back, wringing her hand in pain. If it connected, it would rip off the poor fool's head like an axe slicing its way through wood.

I snapped.

"No! They are only valuable if they are alive." As the words left my lips, I saw terror fill both men's eyes. They may have been trapped by lust when Mihaela looked at them, but my eyes filled their hearts with fear with just a single word. They couldn't scream, yet their mouths kept moving as they gasped for air. They were frozen as they realized that they were surrounded by monsters. The man with the crucifix reached into his inside pocket and pulled out a revolver. Until now, my only real education with guns came from watching war movies with my twin brother and my best friend Mike. Growing up, I had never seen a reason to learn how to shoot as I possessed other skills. Darker, inherited skills that were once so feared my kind were hunted and burned at the stake. Time turned my family into legends and bedtime stories, yet they were still more deadly and more destructive than any manmade weapon. Of course, even those talents became less impressive when I met Mihaela and embraced a different darkness. Now I was the ultimate predator.

Usually, I would have reacted to the pistol before the punk had a change to put a finger on the trigger, but I wasn't worried. I knew he wouldn't get a shot off with Mihaela standing near him and even if he did, simple lead bullets wouldn't kill me. It would just hurt like hell. He had fast reflexes by any standards. There was a silver streak and a click as he aimed at me. In any other situation, I would have tasted lead from the bullet as it dug into my flesh, but Mihaela was there distracting them.

A loud cracking sound rung out as she grabbed hold of his arm. Her hands like a vice, she shattered the bone as she applied unholy force upon his arm.

"Jesus Christ!" He screamed as she twisted his arm. Sweat flowed from his brow as the pain filled his face. "You are dead, bitch! I will kill you."

"Don't call me a bitch," she warned as she twisted his arm, forcing from it a loud snap. The bone broke through the skin, causing blood to squirt from the wound. Wide-eyed, he learned his error too late. Letting him drop to the floor, she giggled with amusement.

I watched her walk towards the lumpy couch that stood against the wall. She sat down, lifting her legs up over the arm of the couch as she watched him roll around on the floor wailing as blood continued to flow.

"I am getting bored, Daddy. Finish with them and send them home." As always, Mihaela looked irresistibly sexy, with her legs crossed ladylike over the side of the couch and a mischievous grin on her face.

"You must stop playing with them, dear. They are messengers, not food," I replied.

Giggling, she covered her mouth like she was embarrassed and retorted.

"But Daddy, takeout never tastes as good as fresh Italian." Looking at the larger man still staring in shock at his friend on the floor she added, "Don't you miss the taste of Italian food?"

I had to admit, it was so very tempting to give in to my craving. To break the rules we lived by and do more than just settle for contaminated drug addicts and disease-ridden whores, to feed on healthy youth instead. But I had to be strong. I had to fight the temptation for the greater good. When I say the greater good I mean stopping those I once loved and admired from becoming just names in a long list of victims. I didn't bring the Mob into my home just to waste an opportunity by having a snack.

"Yeah baby, but I have a more important task for our friends here." I answered, eyeing up our current situation.

Fear filled their eyes as I walked slowly towards them, stepping past the scattered rubble and the rest of the filth that we were forced to live in. The shorter of the two was still holding his arm, trying to keep the broken chunk from falling off. It was only held on by a few strands of muscle and skin. Just looking at made my stomach quiver with pain, but the metallic smell of fresh blood made it growl in hunger. I watched his whole body tremble from the shock, and his expression was one of pure terror.

I knelt down and slapped his cheek to shake him from the haze of shock.

"We need to have a little talk, Mr. Carminati. What is it they call you? Handsome Johnny?" He nodded, never letting his eyes leave me. Trying to seem less intimidating, I lowered my tone.

"Now Johnny is it true that you are related to Danny "the King" Carminati?"

He stuttered, "Yes sir. He's my brother."

I could hear his heart drumming like a car engine, racing inside his chest. The smell of him and his fear were calling out to me and I struggled to push it from my mind.

"Is it safe to assume then, that you have some influence over your big brother?" Smiling, I grabbed his ear and twisted it, "That you have his ear, so to speak?"

"Yes sir. I have plenty of influence with him," he wailed. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he whimpered. "Please... please, dear God, don't kill me!" It always amazed me how quickly a thick-necked powerhouse-type like Handsome Johnny could go from being a cruel thug to a whimpering little bitch. Renaud would have loved such a scene. He was always defending the helpless sorts. The fat kids like Mike, the awkward, skinny kids and the geeky ones. The irony was that I was the high school thug now, not the sobbing man before me.

Pointing at the larger one, I continued.

"I asked you and your colleague Mr. Angelo here to bring a very important message to your brother." I squeezed his damaged limb just enough to send shooting pain through his body and a little more of his blood leaked out. It was more for theatrics then anything, but the look on his face promised that he would obey.

"Yes, whatever message you want me bring to him, I will make him do it. If you don't kill me, I will do whatever you want me to do."

"That's good, Johnny. Now, I've heard that your brother and Mr. Bailey are planning a rather hostile takeover of my late brother's company." I waited, trying to read his expression, but the pain flowing through his body masked what he was thinking. "Rumors, like good legends, always seem to be based on the truth, even if only loosely."

"I don't know anything about any business transactions he might have with Wilson Bailey," said Johnny.

He wasn't as broken as I thought he was, it seemed. The lying little bastard knew a lot more than he was willing to discuss, even if he was sitting in the midst of monsters.

"I don't remember mentioning his first name, Mr. Handsome." I snarled as I grabbed his arm again, gripping it just below the break. "Now, let me ask you in a more direct manner. Were you or your slimy brother involved in my late brother's death?"

The little bastard began to squeal. "No, we had nothing to do with his death! It wasn't until after that we got involved when Wilson contacted us about it!"

"Oh? And what exactly did he have in mind?"

"A hostile takeover. Win-win for all involved. He gets the company and we get to use the racks to transport drugs to and from the US. We didn't kill him, we just used the opportunity."

"I love rumors, Mr. Handsome. I've also heard that your brother doesn't take failure well. That he holds business partners as well as their families responsible..."

"It's business, nothing else. How long would we stay in business if we didn't rule with an iron fist and hold those who failed us responsible?"

"Now here is the real problem," I said as I walked over to the scratched and dented table, grabbing a small briefcase. "It's not that I care about Wilson Bailey or the company." It wasn't a lie because Wilson was another power-hungry, snobby bastard who thought that he was born to rule the world rather than merely exist in it. I had often dreamed of sneaking into his house and ripping his throat out. There was bad blood between my family and his. He was everything my brother hated and if it weren't for Jenny and her daughter, I would have gone through with it. Even my younger brother Nathanial hated the bastard, but kept him close and in the business to keep an eye on him, and make sure that they were protected. I opened the briefcase, revealing the cash inside.

"I don't care what happens to Wilson, but I have a personal attachment to his family. Promises were made and here we are." Keeping him under my gaze, I continued. "Rumor has it that when employees fail your brother, he uses torture to make an example out of them and whores out their women until their debts have been repaid." That was the reason for our little meeting.

Staring at the quarter-million cash in the briefcase he muttered, "That's not nearly enough to clean the slate if things don't work out." There was a spark of hope in his eyes as he said, "But things are going well. We have quite a bit of stock bought already."

"I don't care about the slate. I am demanding that you leave his family alone. Kill him, torture him, do whatever you want to do, but if you or your brother harm one hair on his family's heads, you will find scratching your ass a little more challenging without hands." I could see the fear in his eyes, but I truly wished that I said something just a little more cool and intimidating, like you see in the movies. I wasn't a wise guy or all that cool, however. As my fangs pushed their way out he began to shriek. That was my true power. Not only that I would live to see the end of days, but that even the strongest men that saw my fangs would be paralyzed with fear.

Without even waiting for an answer, I grabbed hold of him and dragged him to his feet.

"Now Johnny, what's in the case will be enough. Can I count on you to make this happen? To make sure when this little endeavor fails that my ladies are kept out of it?" He was shivering from the shock of his injury and it reminded me of high school. Those days of wearing a jean jacket on a cold winter day and freezing my ass off so I could look cool. Yep, that was the price I paid for being the bad boy.

"I can make it happen. Just don't kill me ok? I'll make my brother understand that the women are to be protected. Please, just don't kill me."

As I guided him towards the door I added, "And make sure your brother realizes one important fact."

"What's that?"

"If he doesn't do as I ask in this particular situation, I will have to respond with extreme measures."

"Extreme?"

"Help your friend." I said, gesturing for the larger man to aid his friend. Slowly, the giant got up and grabbed onto him and they began walking away. "Remind your brother of this, Johnny. I know everything about him. His wife and three young daughters, Laura, Aurora, and Valentina. As well as his mistress across the river here, what's the little darling's name again? Giovanna, if I recall correctly?" There was shock in his eyes as he realized that I knew all their dirty laundry. "Make him understand that if he hurts my girls I will taste his girls' blood."

Mihaela snickered, "Oh yes, Daddy. Young baby's blood has such a sweet taste, like aged wine." Running her tongue over her fangs, a smile spread on her face. "Let's just hope your brother is a stubborn man. I do so want a taste!"

That was all it took to seal the deal. Of course, I was bluffing. I might kill his mistress and I would certainly take his wife's blood, but I would never touch his children. I may have been a monster, but I wasn't that evil. Mihaela, on the other hand, wouldn't even hesitate to wipe the man's entire family off of the face of the earth. If I wasn't here to stop her she'd systematically wipe the whole family off the face of the earth and never have a second thought about it.

I hoped that our little display was enough to scare them into submission. We had survived all these years so far by keeping out of public view. However, thanks to the internet and modern technology we could easily find a constant supply of food. As long as we stayed in the shadows, we were safe. Keeping my promise to Renaud had forced me out into the open.

"We should have kept the big, dumb one. He would have made a great snack," Mihaela snarled.

"We need them both to deliver our message. To tell them what they witnessed here and help spread fear."

I looked down at my phone and saw the flashing stream of text. "Hey babyy. How are you??!.. Duo.... Its200hh 400hr... its full service.. We play safe.. Lap dance/body massage included!! BBY.. Anal is 50 more"

"It looks like we will be having Italian after all."

chapter THREE

Mike

In the local paper of the town where I grew up, weddings and births were conveniently listed under the heading of "Life Changing Events." My childhood friend and companion, Renaud was just starting his journey toward fame and fortune. He had already written the book that would be his claim and made him a house hold name to single woman everywhere and horny house wives wishing for more romance but its meaning changed entirely because of those three simple words. The book that the world would remember him for had been written to do one simple job that it was never able to accomplish. He never talked about why he only wrote one love story. Well, at least the true reason there was only one, but I know because I was there.

Renaud, like most of his family fell head over heels in love from a single kiss. For some people, love was a long journey with little milestones that they build on similar to the foundation of a house. For others, a single, heartwarming kiss is all it takes. That kiss came to Renaud in his senior year of high school and it changed his life and how he viewed the world completely. In his clan, a kiss could make you the king of the world or completely destroy you. His brother Harrow's death was caused by a kiss and rumor had it that he returned from the dead, but that is another story for another day. Some might say that kiss that stuck in Renaud's heart like a bad tattoo that never goes away. Despite all the money he eventually made in the process of trying to get back that kiss, it was never the money that he had longed for. It ruined his heart and stopped him from ever loving another woman. I was there to watch him write his book and felt the darkness take over as all hope faded from his memory. I was there for the three years it took him to perfect his craft and I was there the day that the sparkle of optimism faded from his eyes. He had written all four hundred and ninety-three pages with a single goal in mind. It was not to win the hearts of the millions that bought the book. It was to remind Jennifer Andersen that they had had a fairytale romance. Not just boy-meets-girl, they fall in love and live happily ever after forever onwards. For Renaud, it was boy-meets-girl, boy falls in love with girl, and her smile and laughter is all the boy can think about. It was written specifically because he was lost without her and her smile. It was the hope that he could regain that love that made it possible for Renaud to live his life. He wrote eight different revisions until it was perfect. He took every ounce of romance and charm that he had and penned their story as if it was a child being nurtured into adulthood. Renaud dedicated his life to it with the intent of rebuilding their happy ever after. The "Life Changing Events" section in the mid-October Sunday morning paper stole his hope. Reading "Mr. and Mrs. Andersen are happy to announce the marriage of their only daughter Jennifer to Wilson Bailey" hurt him dearly, tearing the heart out of him. After reading that line, he hated his life, the town he grew up in, and the world around him. In the month that followed the announcement, Renaud drank and slept with every willing woman that our small town had to offer before vanishing, never to set foot in it again. The paper cheerfully said that he joined the army with his brother Harrow in order to fulfill a lifelong dream of serving his country, but personally, I always thought that he ran away to join the army with the hope that a war would offer him a valiant, worthwhile death. Either way, that was the last time I ever saw Renaud. It was the last day anybody saw him, if you believe the rumors. The day that Jenny got married not only was a life changing event for her, but it was also one for him too. He was not made a better man, but a colder one.

I sometimes ask myself why I kept returning here to the water front. It's not to gaze at the neon skylight glowing over the crime-stricken city across the river like Renaud did. I haven't seen its beauty in some time now. They can turn the riverfront into a park and add statues and monuments all over the place, but it doesn't change its history. I come here surrounded by the kids playing pirate with their loud incisive laughter as they running around polluting the air. It's not even to remind me that fairytales don't really happen, either. I return here to remind myself that it's not the happy ever after the great romantics write about but the journey and I wonder if just maybe love is the illusion. It occurred to me that despite spending our whole childhood together along with his brother, we were strangers now. At first, we exchanged a few emails throughout the years, but I haven't thought of, let alone spoken to, Renaud in such a long time that even the memory of him seemed to have lost all meaning. To him, I was part of the town and life he left behind so many years ago. A reminder of life and a love that he could never let go of and never get back. Up until yesterday I, like most of the world, thought he died or fell off the face of the earth, until I got a text telling me that he is returning to home like some long lost war hero. It occurred to me soon after that, for too many years, that was exactly how I saw him instead of what he really was.

I have to admit though, I truly believed he would have returned home by now. They say blood is thicker than water and when his brother Nathanial died last year, it was in all the papers, including the major ones. After all, he had single-handedly taken a small-time welding shop and turned it into a multi-million-dollar empire in less than a decade. I didn't think that he'd return for the money, since after his book he had more money than even he could spend, but I thought he'd return to say goodbye to his baby brother. Even if he hated every memory he had ever built here, I thought his blood-ties would have brought him home. I guess in his eyes; blood wasn't thicker than water, it was just a case of DNA.

The coastguard was zipping up and down the Detroit river so fast that the ship seemed to be skipping across the water. I hadn't seen this much traffic from either side of the river in decades. It wasn't just rapid scurrying on the American side of the river, but the Canadian side too. Usually, you see the two countries come together for various reasons throughout the year, but it's always been for ceremonial events. It was a pleasant show of unity to me. "Peaceful relations," we called it. An example of neighbors coexisting with our similarities rather than fighting over our differences. It was easy to see where the ships were heading. In the middle of river there was an empty cargo ship that resembled a ghost ship from another era. It floated on the water, eerily silent and almost motionless but for its gentle bobbing on the waves. It seemed strange and out of place. From this distance I wasn't able to see anybody walking around on its deck, but there was feeling that something was off.

I sat there trying to control my imagination as I watched the ships, but a low, clunking sound caught my attention. At first I looked around searching for kids playing basketball, but there weren't any. The park was unusually empty now, leaving my imagination and I alone in the dark to search for ghosts that weren't really there. I listened intently as the water slapped against the rocks, and then the sound occurred again. The hollow thudding sound echoed towards me. I waited again to hear it. It was probably my imagination playing tricks on me. I stood up and was about to head back to my house when I heard it again. It was faint, but definitely there, like something dark whispering for me to come near. Damn those horror movies.

I let my curiosity get the better of me as I walked towards the noise, wondering what it could be. Of course, there were the obvious things like an old cooler that was tossed from a fisherman's boat, or some large fish whose carcass had gotten caught on the rocks. There were a million possibilities as to what could be making that noise.

I crept towards the general area where the sound was coming from like a frightened child who despite being told there was no monster under the bed something still screamed its lying there with claws ad fangs just waiting for you to be alone. I was a meter away from the rocks when I thought I saw something slithering around, beyond my sight. Likely a muskrat or other rodent splashing around, I thought. Please don't be a real rat I thought. Anything but a damn rat. As a child I saw a cornered sewer ran the size of a cat kill my family dog and it freaked the hell out me. Of course my family dog was a mean little Chihuahua that thought he had the heart of a Rottweiler, bit damned if it didn't make those oversized gnawers my greatest fear. Not just the sight of them, but the mere thought of it. That little voice inside my head kept whispering about tomorrows news headlines. Local priest gets his ass mangled by newly discovered species of giant warrior rat. Like that simple idiot in the movies who never runs away when he should be I kept walking towards the mysterious creature lurking just out of sight. Yes, I figured if a giant killer rat took a chunk out of my ass I deserved it. My and my damn curiosity.

I leaned forward slowly, peering into the dark water into the dark water, but seeing nothing. I found myself stretching further towards the edge, desperately trying to get a glimpse at whatever was beneath the water. Slight ripples stood out from the waves, drifting towards the shore. I waited intently for something to happen, even though I had no idea what it could be. I am by no means a thrill seeker, but I found the whole situation rather exciting. I am not sure if it was the fear or excitement building, but either way my whole body shook as if I was caught in a mid-winter storm. My world is not just filled with faith, but it's built on it so I am used to the unknown. I guess even an old priest who lives under the light likes to think he can look into the darkness unscathed.

I was almost on top of the source, but I couldn't see or figure out what the hell it was. There was definitely something bobbing under the water, but thankfully it wasn't a rat. I reached into the chill water, prepared to yank out whatever was under the waves. It would even be worth the potential loss of a finger to finally know what was making that peculiar sound. Growling exploded from the water, followed by deep rumbling noise that gave way to series of sharp hisses. Instinctively I yanked my hand back, tucking it in close as something flew out of the water. Clear, glowing eyes blazed through the darkness and came flying towards me like a dart, hissing as it passed by. I covered my face, crouching as a spray of water hit me, but nothing else happened.

I turned to look at it as it stood, watching me with eyes that seemed to be staring right into me. Its body shook as it lowered its head and growled from its throat. It took a few seconds for my brain to register what my eyes had just seen, a few seconds longer then common sense would dictate it should have taken to realize that the beast that had leapt from the water was a common alley cat. I watched as it seemed to wait just long enough to make sure I wasn't going to chase it before it leapt into the night. If it wasn't for the fact that my heart was pounding in my chest, I would have fallen over laughing at myself and my stupidity.

The strange sound began again from the other side of the square white stones. It was growing louder and more rapid with each passing second. I figured that if I had come this far, I might as well take my amateur investigation all the way. I climbed up over the stone and carefully made my way towards the river. It was too hot and humid even this late in the season and the cool river breeze was welcomed, even with is faint smell of dead fish.

I had only gone a few feet when something grabbed me hard enough to make my skin burn. At first I panicked and tugged my arm back with all my strength, but whatever latched onto me refused to let go. I wasn't thinking as I pulled back trying to free myself from its grasp, but I couldn't get free. Finally, I was able to break free, the force sending be flying back into the stone. I winced as the rocks bit into my back.

Despite the pain and the realization that flickering lights were approaching from behind me, my eyes never left the water. Terror enables you to notice everything around you, but only lets you concentrate on one thing. My concentration was on whatever was in the water and, despite knowing I had to run away fast, my feet wouldn't listen to me. I'm knew many people before me had experienced this exact issue. They talked about the adrenaline flowing through their veins and how they ignored the pain to make their escape, but when they needed to run they were suddenly helpless.

I saw something struggling to make it through those wretchedly treacherous rocks and each time it got closer, my chest tightened just a little more. Slowly, it yanked itself out of the water and onto the shore, grunting and mumbling. Voices from behind me and the flickering of flashlights told me I wasn't alone and that help had arrived. Fearlessly, the figure dragged himself forward, coming straight at me. I could hear only snatches of words amongst the creature's nonsense.

"That she demon... watch out for that shetani." He was almost on top of me when I saw the empty holes where the man's eyes should have been. He bellowed his warning one last time, before falling limp on the rocks.

I was screaming as they approached on foot. The flashlights and the static hum of their radios told me I was safe. I didn't even try to move, my body numb from the fear. Instead I sat there broken, staring at the lifeless man lying before me with his face trapped in my memory.

"Over here! I found our missing sailors," a voice called out from behind as the light skipped over the water. If seeing this single man filled my heart with fear, what I saw next broke it completely. Lifeless bodies bobbed up and down in the water. I followed the light as it skimmed across the water from body to body.

"Are there any injured?" A voice on the radio chirped.

A stunned response followed. "No, I think they are all dead."

chapter FOUR

Jenny

When I was younger, I thought the keys to happiness had a Mercedes logo on them or belonged to a penthouse. My family agreed and there came about a time in my life when I got my keys. I still remember thinking I got everything I had wished for. I understood love as a simple emotion that your mind created as it looked for reasons why you shouldn't be alone. It was the same basic idea as a one-night stand. Our mind has many avenues and reasons why we do things, and over time we believe our own excuses and lies. My dream life came complete with a nanny to watch the kids and a maid to clean the house. On the outside looking in it was the perfect life. I had a great life with a loving husband that adored me and every morning I woke up and went over to my balcony, drank my tea, and witnessed the most amazing sunrises, but there was still a loneness that crept into my soul when nobody was watching. It wasn't a sadness or a longing, but simply a little twitch in my heart. It's the price I paid to have everything I wanted from life. It was more stable than chasing some grand impossible dream and it paid a lot better than a waitressing job. Some people sell their souls, and I simply sold my youth and body. Either way, I made my bed and I had to lay in it, but at least it came in king size.

Today most would call me a sugar baby, but back in the nineties they'd call me a trophy wife. I was the arm candy that my husband would bring to business dinners and parties so he could grab attention and feel young. It was my job to look and act a certain way to help further his career. It might sound like a simple task, but it's something I worked hard at and in return I got amazing rewards. The title might change, but the meaning is still the same. "Trophy wife" had always been a politer term for "house whore," only instead of having to negotiate prices constantly with numerous men, I only had one man to deal with. It was still a good life filled with many comforts, so many I couldn't even take advantage of them most days. Compared to other trophy wives though, I had it pretty good. Wilson didn't share his toys like other husbands did, and in his eyes I was his most prized toy.

Of course, I have duties, fears, and pressures that I had to contend with, even if I don't work a standard forty-hour week. Time had become an enemy that I was in constant battle with. Fine lines and wrinkles were slowly taking over. Wilson hadn't seen it yet, but I could feel the skin on my neck starting to sag, and my once perky breasts he adored weren't so perky anymore. Each passing minute stole away things I had built my life on, and unfortunately for me fighting against time was a losing battle. Time was like death. Inevitable. When beauty and sex were your bread and butter, you'd want to spread the butter thick on the toast, in hope that your husband didn't decide to change brands. It was the only real downside to my profession. I was constantly at odds hoping that my beauty would outlive my husband, otherwise I'd find myself replaced by a younger model.

We were in our way to another dinner party to further Wilson's career. Wilson guided me through the doublewide glass doors that led into the small, three story office building like I was a queen. We had an arrangement, and even though we were legally married like a real couple he never treated me like anything less than his soul mate. I didn't have to love him like a husband for him to treat me like a wife. I had snagged myself a good man, even if there was no physical attraction on my side. I didn't need passion to stay, just a firm pre-nup and the financial benefits he offered.

I had come through these doors numerous times and it always amazed me just how spectacular the place looked. It wasn't one of those artificial looking lobbies with fake stone on the wall and ugly looking plastic tropical plants like you see in most businesses. It had diamond-shaped brown and beige granite tiles that lead all the way to the front desk. The words "Barthélémy Metrology Solutions" written in gold, antique-looking letters on the wall behind it in a stylish font that you'd expect to see in the bigger company. Along the wall there was a tropical fish pond and wide-leafed palm trees of some sort. The smell of the place even reminded me of a tropical island, even though I had never seen one in real life. When Nathanial designed and built this office complex, he had the idea of making the right wing his home. Why else would he have spent so much time and money on the details to make it feel like a true home if he didn't already have the idea to live here? He took a small welding shop and turned it into a multi-million-dollar empire in less than a decade.

All of these flourishes didn't matter much anymore now that Nathanial was gone, and the many lives were in turmoil because of it. Too many of us had faith that he would always be there to guide us, Wilson included. We passed by the guard desk, but Hanson the security guard didn't greet us with his usual smile and brief small talk. An awkward silence filled the room as he waved us through like we were strangers rather than people he had gotten to know over the past decade. Recent events had changed life for a lot of us and it wasn't for the better.

"Greetings, Mr. and Mrs. Bailey, I am so happy that you could make it to this little event." I looked up and saw William King holding out his hand with a weasel-like grin on his face. Before Nathaniel's death he was a nobody, but now he acted like he was the company's founder and I am certain that was his goal. "It's nice for us all to meet outside the office." Smiling he looked around, "Well, I guess we're still in the office- just not on business."

Wilson forced out a laugh, but I could tell he wasn't happy.

"I agree, it's a nice change of pace to meet outside of business," he replied coolly as he extended his hand as well. By all rights, with Nathanial's passing Wilson should have been the acting president of the company. They were best friends and Wilson was the first vice president appointed but, as with all things, politics eventually got in the way. William snatched the presidency and, despite the whispers of how he would lead the company straight to ruin, nobody challenged him for the position. It was believed that he would not only lead the company, but that he would steal the whole company for himself. It didn't help that he was the one to help Nathanial's cousin, Irene in her time of mourning. A young, broken-hearted woman can easily be blinded by grief.

"I actually just returned from the cottage," William bragged. Laughing, he added, 'If you can call a five-bedroom house by a lake a cottage." Wilson forced out another laugh, but it was of irony, not amusement. If William noticed it, he didn't act on it. "I didn't want to leave the relaxation of the beachfront, but I wanted to announce some changes I have planned. You know, to cut the fat and make the company profitable again."

I thought Wilson was going to explode as the words left William's lips, but like most of the upper management in the company, he didn't want to rock the boat and lose everything he had invested in the company. Bravery is not something a man in his fifties can afford, especially when there are plenty of younger, more ambitious people just waiting for him to fall. It had been ten months since Nathaniel's passing and time was running out. Even though his two older brothers had died years before, no bodies were ever found and legally they were still considered co-owners of the company. Nathaniel never believed they were dead. He was so certain that he wrote in his will that the company ownership couldn't be changed for a full year after his passing.

"What's that in your hand, William?" Wilson asked, but I pretty certain he already knew. Blue prints were rather obvious and William had already started changing the company bit by bit removing those things Nathanial pain staking changed and altered until it was uniquely his own style.

"Let's head upstairs for drinks and I'll tell you about my plans for the second and third floor of the royal wing." He giggled, thinking his play on words was charming. I guess it was easier pretending that he really was a king rather than admitting he was just another two-bit vulture. I might be easy by some standards and compared to William I was a cheaper purchase, but I didn't need to steal anything. I used tactful seduction. The price to keep William was a whole million-dollar company.

"Have you noticed that the apartment seems to have hidden rooms all over?" The apartment was designed like one of those old mansions you see on TV. You know the ones that have little rooms hidden in the walls. So far the only one I knew about was filled with well-aged wine bottles, but we all suspected there were many more. I find doors that I can't open and the Victorian look of it all drives me crazy. Irene too. We were thinking of making it more industrial looking. To get rid of the dated, haunted mansion feel of the place and modernize it." I had been in Nathanial's place a hundred times maybe more and never found any hidden rooms except that wine room. Of course I have never seen his home as a treasure trove either. William would destroy everything Nathaniel loved, including the sweet little cousin chasing his fortune. Irene was the closest thing to a sister that Nathaniel had. After the death of both his brothers she moved in to help him feel connected. To stop him from feeling abandoned and alone.

"I thought Irene loved the Victorian look," I responded. "If my memory serves me correctly, she helped design it based on pictures that she found from that era." Wilson's expression turned icy as he glared at me. I had forgotten the first rule of our agreement; don't rock the boat when it comes to business. I knew that I would face consequences for my little jab, but someone had to say something.

"Oh, Irene never really liked how spooky everything was. She only did it to match the parts of the old house Nathanial insisted on including. He was just too sentimental if you ask me, intent on living in his dream world." He grinned sleazily as he joked, "The fool actually believed Renaud and Harrow were still alive."

There was a dinging sound as we reached our floor and the oak-inlaid elevator doors opened smoothly. William rushed us in, the poor security guard trying to capture his attention. William gave him a look like the guard wasn't worth his time. As the doors closed all I could hear was, "But Mr. King, you said to tell you when-" William didn't even acknowledge the man's existence as he walked briskly past.

Producing a small tablet from the inside of his blazer, he continued.

"After I own the company and marry Irene, I've decided that I want to move the whole IT department over here where the gym is currently and relocate the gym to the second floor."

"I see, but the location of the gym was selected so that the gym could have a pool and be easily accessed by employees from any of the three towers. It was actually quite the debate when we were planning to build this place," Wilson commented.

William cut in, "That's why I'm moving the gym. Well, 'downsizing' would more accurate."

"We're cutting the employees' gym to less than half of its current size?" Wilson had a way of making a statement, but making it appear like a question. It was his way of telling you that your idea was stupid, but allowing you to save face and in most cases it worked.

"No, it's going to be a private gym for myself, Irene, and a few select members of upper management. Nathanial treated it like a family gym, allowing everybody to just pop by bringing their kids, in-laws, and I've even seen some bring their neighbors. It's an expense that I am not willing to maintain."

"Nathaniel always said that it was an employer's responsibility to try and inspire his employees to be healthier and live longer, more productive lives," Wilson countered.

"Wilson, do you know that promoting the health and more productive life-style crap actually costs the company more than it makes us? It's not just the cost of maintaining the gym, but the insurance premium we pay and the retirement plan. The more we do to keep employees here long term, the more it hurts the company's bottom line." His hands were flying around as the doors opened, leading into the lavish-looking apartment. It seemed to me that he was the reason the company was suffering if anything, with his new Italian suits and an expensive gold watches. Maintaining his excessive lifestyle was what was costing the company money, and I was certain that when left alone to run it he would drive it into bankruptcy.

"Listen, I own this company." Realizing he made the wrong choice in words, William quickly corrected himself. "I am the temporary president, and as we all know Irene will choose me to continue running the company after we are married. After all, who else cares more about her interests then me?"

A devilish giggle emanated from around the corner.

"Oh, I can think of quite a few people who would fit into that group." Murlin appeared, looking as alluring as she was unique with her bright red hair flipped over to one side, revealing the closely shaved sides. Even as a child she always had a way about her that made every girl envious. Almost purring as she sauntered towards us, she continued. "It seems to me that you forgotten the name of the stationary. What does it saw again Barthélémy Metrology Solutions? Did you suddenly get adopted?"

William crossed his arms and sighed loudly.

"I thought you had moved out."

"Me? Move out? Why certainly not! This as much my home as anybody else's." Murlin playfully argued.

"We've discussed this already, Murlin. I realize that you have lived with the Barthélémy family for so long that you are considered family, but you're still not actually related. Irene and I want to start a family of our own. Don't you want to see Irene move on from her past and have a fresh start?" Murlin didn't have a chance to respond before he forcefully added, "Like I said earlier, when the year is up this company and everything else that belonged to Nathanial Barthélémy will become ours and frankly, you aren't part of my future plans." Murlin smiled liked she knew something he didn't, but remained silent. "Now if you don't mind, you aren't exactly dressed for this kind of event," he chided condescendingly, with a look of disgust on his face.

A loud booming voice I hadn't heard in years, but recognized immediately broke through air and shattered the feel of the night.

"What kind of event is it that is too classy for an honorary Barthélémy to attend?"

William's upper lip curled as he caught sight of the figure holding a cold beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Obviously not the kind of guest William had in mind, he was wearing a dark, wrinkled dress shirt and faded blue jeans.

"It's a black tie dinner party for executives only."

That charming smile I had missed for quite a while filled his face as he sipped his beer, a mischievous twinkle filling his eyes.

"If that is the case, I must insist that you at least wear high heels, Murlin." Raising an eyebrow, he added, "I have always thought that your ass looks amazing in heels."

With a playful smile, Murlin grazed her fingers along his neck.

"That's because my ass looks marvelous in them."

William snorted, "I don't remember inviting either of you."

"You didn't invite me, but that won't stop me from attending this glamorous event."

"And who exactly do you think you are crashing my party." William was growing angry. Sipping his beer, the man took his time in answering. William was getting fiercely annoyed as he watched, just waiting for a response. Tapping his foot with his arms crossed he said quietly, "I think it's time you both left my house."

"Your house?"

"Yes, for all purposes and intentions it's my house now." William was about to feel the same pain and shock we felt the day Nathanial died, only it wasn't love for life that was going to hurt him, it was greed that was going to break his heart.

"Is that so?" The man replied, comfortable in whatever he knew that William did not.

There was a ding, followed by the elevator door opening as another person got off on their floor. There was a scream as Williams fiancée Irene recognized the man for who he was.

"Renaud! Is that really you?" She cried out in shock as she ran towards him. I was too busy to see them embrace as I watched the arrogance and hope die in William's face. He had been so close to getting everything he wanted, and now it was gone.

chapter FIVE

Renaud

I remembered Irene as a freckle faced twelve-year-old girl with pigtails and giant buck teeth. Probably the homeliest girl I had ever met, but time had made her into a beautiful young woman. I might even say a young lady, but I truly didn't think there were many of them left anymore. She wrapped her arms around and I shivered. Not the shiver of happiness that a warm-hearted and long-delayed family reunion might bring, but one of discomfort at the invasion of personal space that made me want to tear my own skin off. Maybe I was reading too much into it, but something seemed artificial about her embrace. Irene was squeezing me tightly, to the point that it felt like my ribs were going to break, but something inside her soul seem to hate my very existence, like I was a long lost enemy rather than family.

Murlin told me about the gold-digger, William and how he manipulated everybody around him, as well as how it didn't take magic or psychic abilities to see the hatred inside him. Part of me knew that I should hate him or at least feel some kind of anger about the way he tried to steal everything that my brother had built, but I didn't feel. I enjoyed taunting him and it was so damn easy to do, but I didn't hate him. Not yet. I am sure the more I got to know him the more I would grow to hate him, but time would have to tell.

Irene brought her lips to my ear and whispered.

"Renaud, please don't start a fight with William, ok? He might not be what most people would call a knight in shining armor, but I love him and he treats me like a princess."

I was dredging through my memory trying to find the best response, but I couldn't get past Jenny's eyes. They sparkled and twinkled making think of the light trying to break free of the darkness but it didn't have the effect on me that I had expected. I was trapped and isolated for what felt like centuries, and it took great effort to remember how to stand. I needed something greater than my pain, and so I chose my dearest memory and in the midst of the desert surrounding my heart I built a garden around it. As I stared into her eyes I realized that I had built a mountain to protect her memory, but it wasn't the memory of her I was trying to save. It was the idea of her that I needed to hang onto. Not the real her, but the way I wanted her to be and now that I had escaped my own personal hell, I didn't need that fairytale any longer. I realized how long I had been staring. I still had a lot to do before the people I was dealing with realized I was missing. A lot more to do before my master came to collect me. Luckily for her, our roads weren't connected and she had no place in my world.

Irene pleaded as she tapped me on the shoulder.

"Renaud, please answer me. Do try and keep the peace. Seeing you here will be hard enough on him without you taunting him."

I wanted to tell her that in my list of concerns the company, the apartment, the money, and even her conman fiancé meant nothing to me. I felt nothing as I looked around at it all. That none of it had anymore meaning to me then a picture or song that I didn't really like, but even if I didn't any emotional I knew right from wrong so I dug a little deeper into the memory bank sorting through all the stolen kisses, the wild laughter until I finally found it. A memory worth reliving, or at least a piece of one. It was one of the last memories I had of my brother, Harrow. The last day I shared with him before the family curse claimed me by passing to him. He was standing there, a boyish grin on his face as usual and in the midst of an argument.

"I will play nice if you do little brother," he said, smirking. I went on to break his nose, and I was hoping that this time it wouldn't end the same way. I kissed her forehead softly, like I had seen in so many movies and then carefully whispered, "I will play nice if he does."

"Thank you," she breathed as she squeezed me tighter and kissed my cheek. I knew for her it was a form of affection, but I still wanted to climb the walls and escape. Alas, there was no escape for my kind, only degrees of misery. Interrupting my thought, she continued, "just let me calm him down a bit before I officially introduce you."

I watched her walk away, still surprised that she was no longer the little girl I remembered. William glared at me and I couldn't blame him. As far as he was concerned, my returning from the dead wasn't a thing of evil as I knew that wasn't what he feared. What scared him most was the impending financial disaster he was facing. Irene grabbed his hand and lead him down the hallway until he was lost from view.

"It seems like we are going to be attending a party," Murlin mused as she walked towards me. "Should I look sophisticated, glamorous, or just plain trashy?" She leaned in close as she passed and whispered, "Tomorrow is another day. We must give the common folk hope and the best thing you can do to honor your brother is to make an appearance." There was a sensual sway in her hips as she walked and it was a point of playfulness to her to made sure that everyone noticed. Before I could object, she pressed her finger to my lips and shushed me. "Aren't you even a little bit curious as to what type of man he is?" Smiling, she added "It couldn't have been just the money, since you made tenfold more than he could ever dream of making. Surely you must wonder what kind of man could replace you?"

It was an intriguing question indeed. Jenny's eyes never left me, even with her struggling hard to conceal it. Her eyes were the ones I always remembered. Sad, soft child like eyes that made her appear so very vulnerable. I remembered the affect they use to have on me, but I didn't feel it anymore. Had it ever been real, or was it just an illusion that my mind had built around her? If I didn't feel the effects of love, did it mean that I had lost my humanity completely? Wilson looked so old next to her, more like father and daughter then husband and wife. My time with her was such a thin, faded memory that I couldn't put all the pieces back together again. t was like my past life was a giant jigsaw puzzle and most of the pieces were damaged or lost. Watching him, I could still remember the scorching hatred I had for this man. Fire-fueled thoughts of how easily I could burn him from the inside out and nobody would know the better. I even went so far as to get an estimate from a hitman, but then I talked to the ancestor. I remembered that meeting so clearly it was like yesterday. The one that started the curse that haunted my blood line, generation after generation. My sacrifice had stopped the curse and would allow those that came after me to live a normal human life, but the bloodline was dying and soon it would end.

"You're staring," Murlin remarked. "That's impolite." Giggling, she added "You seem lost deep thought."

"Just a memory" I said, quietly.

"Was she naked in this memory?" I shushed her, which seemed to make her laugh even more. "Oh master, they can't hear my thoughts. Only you have that intimate connection with me."

I was staring down at the river through the glass doors, lost again in my thoughts. The office was built right along the river, but if the river had magic it was long gone at night. There were speckles of light twinkling across the river like stars, and if you turned your head just the right way, there was the flashy orange, red, and blue light show on a far off building. People seemed to be pouring into the party like water rushing through the rapids of a savage river. Too many new, hopeful faces staring at me. William was still the center of attention as he was still the acting president, but after a few well selected interruptions he stopped bragging about his future plans for the company. I could see the hate in his eyes as I managed to point out he didn't control an empire like Caesar of Rome. Obviously, I didn't have a clue how to act amongst people never mind how to run a company, but this guy seemed less qualified to do it then I was. Just listening to him talk reminded me of one of those people who always have to outdo you. The ones who seem to have a great story that's always just a little more tragic then yours, or they drove a car just a little bit fancier than yours. I might not be able to feel everything I once did, but I knew an asshole when I saw one and William was one deserving of a capital "A."

The real problem was that I had no emotional attachment to the company whatsoever. If it triumphed or fell, I wouldn't feel anything about it. It wasn't my labor of love, if I could ever truly have one. I just felt like I should have some sort of loyalty to my little brother. I didn't feel any real emotional attachment for him either, but the few memories I had were of him laughing and idolizing me. If nothing else, I should at least honor the blood ties that we had.

"You might be a more effective leader if you actually spoke with your employees," a soft, mouse-like whisper of a voice broke through the silence. I turned around to find Irene standing there, a glass of wine in each hand. Handing one to me she added, "You know, William can be quite the asset if you give him a chance."

The wine was rather bland, but I drank it anyway. When death takes away every pleasure for what seems like an eternity, even the worst tasting wine is good merely because it has flavor. Irene was staring at me, awaiting my answer.

"You mean am I planning on taking control of Nathanial's company?"

"Legally, it belongs to you now that you have resurfaced." Irene watched William's reflection in the glass. "The company will need leadership. Are you sure you are up for running it? It's no longer the tiny little mom-and-pop affair that your father started. It's a corporate giant in robotics and CMM software now." Her eyes flicked from side to side as her lips continued to move in almost-silence. "It's customer base is scattered through twenty-eight countries with over a thousand resellers globally." I wanted William following along as I continued, "Do you really understand what we do?"

"I didn't come here to steal the company or take it from you. I didn't even know Nathanial died until today. I just came home." It wasn't a lie, not really. I didn't even know that my father's little shop had become such a giant enterprise, nor that my baby brother had even died. Irene seemed happy with my answer even if it wasn't the complete answer that she wanted. The way she looked at William's reflection with that rosy cheeked smile said more than any words possible could.

"Here, take this," she said as she handed me a white device with a giant screen.

"What's this?" I asked as I held it in my hand.

Rolling her eyes, she mumbled "Oh Renaud, you are so far behind. It's my old cell phone." Sliding her thumb along the screen she continued, "I already programmed Mike's, Murlin's, and my number into it. You have been gone for many years so I think all the people you know have moved away. All you have to do is open the address book like this and press this little green button to call someone." I watched her flipping through pages here and there like an expert, realizing that I wouldn't be able to use it. Realizing that the world had kept turning and left me behind. Time waits for no one and I was a perfect example.

"Isn't there a real phone in this building somewhere? One that connects to the wall with a wire and a dial?"

She giggled again as she responded.

"There must be a hundred desk phones at least, but trust me, you will need a cell phone. Say you suddenly wanted to order a pizza, all you need to do is open the browser here, search for "Thick -N-Spicy and there you have it. The closest location is three kilometers away and you just press on their number to call them."

"Why can't I just open the phone book and look?"

"I don't think we actually have a phone book. Trust me, in a few days you will thank me. You might even wonder how you lived without one." Smiling, she whispered "I really must join the party. Take it, even if you don't use it I'll feel better if I can call you. The city has changed a lot since you were here."

Through the glass I watched her reflection walk away, vanishing into the crowd of strangers. Most had hope in their eyes, but I knew they were placing their faith in the wrong man. Hope, like love, is just an illusion fools try and hold onto in order to convince themselves that their life will get better. To find meaning in their fruitless existence. I kept playing with the new, mysterious cell phone. There were so many little colored pictures and options that I started to wonder if this mechanical wonder would make the world a better place or become slaves to it. A flashing circular picture of a newspaper that read "Breaking News" caught my attention. I pressed my finger against it and a small page opened up, filling the screen. In bold letters it stated, "24 sailors found dead." I wasn't shocked by it and reading the report I knew that they had it all wrong.

One thing caught my attention more, though. Something unexpected that caught me completely off guard. Another headline read "Second massacre in Essex county history happens within a twelve-month period of the last one." I scanned the rest of the story below, "Police believe that the most recent attack may be related to the brutal death of business man Nathanial Barthélémy." It had never occurred to me to ask how Nathanial died. I had assumed that it was something natural. I had further assumed that he had fallen victim to a human death, like a heart attack, or a car accident. Potentially even suicide, given his risk for survivors' remorse. It seemed to me that in many such cases, those that had survived were always consumed by overwhelming guilt for being the ones who survived. Leave it to my baby brother to go out and get his ass murdered.

chapter SIX

Mike

I sat in a hospital room, wearing one of those little blue backless gowns and counting the dots on the ceiling tiles. A cool breeze from the AC found its way up and around every crack and crevasse my aging body had to offer. It had always amazed me how those little black dots contrasting against the stark white of the tiles always caught my attention. I had been out of shape my whole life, and had consequently spent a lot of time in tiny hospital rooms and I was pretty sure I had wasted more time counting them then any man should.

My back was throbbing, the smell of alcohol floating all around me. Nobody in my entire life had ever looked at me and thought that I was a tough bastard, but they should be considering the pain I endured tonight. I had thought that the sting of my wound was unbearable, but that was before I felt the searing from it being cleaned. It felt like sand paper being ripped across my balls, but even though my eyes teared up I didn't cry out. I just grinned and took it like a man, like my father had taught me. The nurse called it a war wound in my fight to save the world from darkness, but even though I knew she was trying to lighten the mood, I saw the irony in it. These men were murdered for a reason I can only guess, but I couldn't even give them their last rites. Cops are meant to save lives and I was meant to save souls. We both failed tonight. The eighteen stitches I had gotten seemed like such a large number.

I wasn't a suspect, yet there were police waiting for me drinking horrid hospital coffee with clumpy powdered milk and sour looks upon their faces. I had seen hundreds of dead bodies, but almost all of them had been natural, explainable causes. Tonight was the second time in my life as a priest that I had felt a death was caused by something truly evil. I believe in God and the Devil, but true supernatural evil has always been just a story or legend to me until recently. What happened to those poor men couldn't have been done by something human. Not that I don't believe there aren't men capable of such acts, I just didn't think enough sick bastards would come together to kill that many men on the same night in the same horrible way. It reminded me of Nathaniel's death. We had to have a closed casket at his funeral because of the condition his body was in. It wasn't just a dead body to me either, but a close friend who I had thought would outlive me. The image of how his limbs were hacked away and the deep, charred holes where his warm brown eyes used to be still haunted me. I had always thought it was strange that the church advised us to talk to a psychiatrist. It seemed like trading faith for science, but lately I had been thinking that I needed to work through the image of an old friend that chased me in my dreams and with what had just happened, my personal demons had company.

"It seems like you've had an exciting day, Father Mike," the redheaded nurse said as she entered the room. "I think you'll survive, though." Smiling, she giggled and said "It looks like there really is an angel on your shoulder," before leaving the room.

I don't know why, but I lingered in the room for much longer then I should have. I didn't have anything to be nervous about as a creature of habit, and today I simply followed my routine like every other day with the added exception of finding a dead body. Once I was fully dressed I took a deep breath and walked through the doors. Each step I took felt like I was walking towards death row. Maybe it was my imagination, but it felt like every eye in the place was staring at me as if I had killed those sailors rather than just stumbled onto the aftermath.

I tried to decide what would happen next as I walked through the cold, sterile-looking corridor. My simple existence hadn't prepared me for any of this. I pulled out my phone, thinking I should call a lawyer, but then I realized I didn't have one. Of course I knew lawyers. Plenty of them in fact, but what exactly could I say to them? Staring down at my phone, I saw two missed calls from Irene and several from Jenny. I knew why Irene called. They were having some kind of party where all the fancy management types get together and kiss her fiancé's ass. It was simple economics. He was stealing everything her cousin had built and whether you liked the guy or not, if you wanted to stay it was time to pucker up. I was expected to drop to one knee and give it an extra bit of passion, seeing that half of all our yearly donations came from her family. As much as I hated it, that money made a lot of our community programs possible and I had to swallow my pride for the greater good. Irene always seemed to ask me if was she doing the right thing and there was no good answer. She would pick and choose between everything I would say until she found a way to twist the words in a way that would make her feel better about distorting her cousins vision and trade the good for what she wanted. She was young though, and I guess wanting love isn't the worst thing a woman can sell everything out for.

I looked down at Jenny's name written in flashing red letters. Several calls generally meant that her and Wilson were at war again. It seemed like they were always in some kind of battle these days. Seemed like Jenny was blind to a number of things. Like many of the men Jenny met, I adored her. I always have and not just as her friend or a priest, but as the man inside me. I never had the courage to make a move though, and there was always a reason why I couldn't. First, she had been with Renaud, then she had had her secret affair with Harrow and Renaud needed me, and finally when she had sold herself to Wilson. It seemed like all I had ever done was love her in silence from afar.

That was my role in her life. The fat friendly go to guy who made her feel better about the mess she made of her life. I have always had that special skill. It was a damn useless one, really. Well, at least for personal gain. If ever a woman needed some encouragement or needed a man to see the best in her, she'd come to me. If her father wasn't proud of her or she had daddy issues, good old Mike could always find the best in her. If she couldn't commit to making her boyfriend feel loved, I was there to help her feel better about it. If she didn't think she was loved, Mike was the man to make it all better. Good old Father Mike. Most lean on me until they are strong enough, or outgrew their need for my reassurance and move on, but not Jenny. She wasn't truly a bad person she simply never saw past her needs. If she was depressed, it was all about her need for reassurance, and she always seemed to feel depressed. No one man could deal with it all, except for good old Mike. I'd like to think that Wilson tried, but even though he had a clear attachment to her he had never earned her love. He had merely bought her companionship. The only thing probably stronger then love was the terms of a business deal, with all of its demands and expectations.

As of late though, I had been thinking that I had outgrown her. Love is a gift and like all gifts, if it wasn't appreciated it would begin to fade. I used to think that true love was endless. I had always thought that my love was as strong as Renaud's, with the only difference being he was publicly broken by it and I kept my affection tucked away out of sight. I thought that I could be happy with just being a part of her life, but lately I saw it as more of a curse than anything else. I tucked my phone back into my pocket. Tonight wasn't a good night to kiss ass, whether it was for money or scraps of love.

"Father Mike!" I heard a familiar voice. I looked up and was surprised to find young Jamie Davidson standing there, with a grin so big I could have sworn it was going to crack his face in two. He was one of the troubled kids I used to mentor at the local youth services gym. He wasn't a boy anymore, though. He had grown into a truly fine young man. He had been such an awkward looking boy back then, having looked like a character from a poorly done abstract painting. "I stayed to give you a ride home. I figured you would want one after the day you have had."

"Aren't you going to take me down town for questioning?" I asked as I shook his hand.

"God no, Father Mike. This isn't a crime movie. Your statement at the river bank is more than enough." Almost pushing me along he added, "If you become a suspect the whole world is completely screwed. Well, I guess it is screwed up now, but not enough that anybody would think you were involved."

"What? Do you think priests can't be killers?"

"Not an overweight, middle-aged one who can't box, run, or even work out for more than fifteen minutes. At least, not that many men at once." I smiled at his honesty.

"How many were there?" I knew there had to be a lot of them, but I didn't even try and count them. All I could truly remember was sitting there trembling, watching them drag body after body out of the river. There were so many of them and I couldn't help but wonder what kind of animal could tear men apart like that.

"Too many, I'm afraid. The damnest thing is that nothing was taken. We inventoried the ship almost all night and nothing was taken. It's like somebody just decided to bring Hell upon them all."

"Hell upon them?" I asked, more shocked about the wide-eyed look on his face then what he had said.

He stopped and pulled me close as he whispered, "If you look past the burn marks, there are two distinct things. Their arms and legs were hacked at the killer used a machete or sword."

"What makes you think that, exactly?" I asked, seriously doubting the reliability of this statement. It seemed a little far-fetched even in Essex county for there to be a machete-swinging killer on the loose.

"It wasn't the coroner or anyone official, it was just what the boys and I noticed. Notches in the flesh like you would see if you were chopping wood and kept missing."

"I am sure that there has to be some other explanation. I can't see one guy wielding a sword or machete running through a ship and getting them all."

Red faced he grabbed my arm, "That's not the scariest part." Moving in closer and scanning the empty corridor, he continued. "There were puncture marks on their necks as if a giant cat had jumped up and torn their throats out."

"So you're telling me that a giant cat or a lion or something happened to be on a cargo ship that was traveling down the Detroit river at the exact same time as a machete wielding psycho was chopping the crew up? Or that I can assume there was some giant cat on board?"

"No, but Detective Hines says that there were similar attacks in Romania a few years back, as well as a few other eastern European countries, and the culprit was never caught."

"Listen, Jamie. You're still considered a rookie, right? " Considering I had shoes older then he was, it didn't take a genius to figure out that he couldn't have been wearing a badge for any longer than a year, if that.

Shyly, he twisted and said quietly, "Five months, as of the eighteenth." Keeping his hands in his pockets, he looked like that awkward fifteen-year-old kid who always seemed to be the brunt of every joke.

I was trying to think of the best way to tell him that even as an adult, he was the brunt of the joke. Even if the other cops didn't call him Dumbo or the like on account of his ears, it still looked like a strong wind would send him flying like any other fresh, rookie cop.

"Have you ever heard of hazing in college?" Even the word brought back a lot of messed-up memories of my time at Ottawa U, when I wanted to belong so desperately that I joined everything to try to fit in.

"Yes, of course. It's a fraternity thing. I didn't join any, but I remember seeing all the crap they put people through."

"Let's just say that you just joined the brotherhood of the boys in blue and this is their version of hazing."

"So I joined a fraternity?" He chuckled as he marched towards the door. Maybe Jamie wasn't as sensitive as I thought. He muttered to himself, "So I was hazed, who would have figured?" Seeing the little strut that he had in his walk made me see that he would go far in the department. Any man that could laugh at himself could laugh with the world.

A flashing orange light caught my attention as we headed towards the doors. I was still getting used to the new color of the lights ever since some ass decided that blue was a colour better suited for use by snowplows. I watched as an ambulance pulled in and then hastily sped backwards, trying to line up with the doors. I sighed at the annoyingly loud sirens that always accompanied such vehicles. My simple life had become too eventful as of late and I truly didn't want to witness anything more.

"Please stand back," Jamie hollered as he held his arms open trying to clear the way. "There's an emergency!" Of course there wasn't anybody in the lobby except for the janitor, who didn't even seem close enough to be in the way. Jamie meant well, even if he was showing off for the dainty blonde behind the counter.

The back doors slammed open and a paramedic burst out like a thief running from the cops. He immediately started dragging the stretcher out, before even the driver could get out to assist him. The urgency of the scene didn't surprise me, given that I was at a hospital. However, there was something about the way the nurses looked as they rushed out to assist them. They all seemed to freeze the minute they saw the man in the stretcher, and even though I couldn't see it I knew that it had to be bad. Trained, experienced professionals covering their mouths and looking away was never a good sign. A small nurse hunched over, throwing up in the corner as the others looked away with horror on their faces.

"Please stay clear," Jamie repeated as he pressed the automatic door-opener, forcing the outside doors to slide open.

A short, chunky doctor in green scrubs came running past me with some plastic device square looking with flashing red lights.

"Get out of my way," he yelled as he seemed to jump onto the stretcher. I stood there watching him, not sure if I should run away or stand still. Part of me wanted to cover my face to avoid seeing any more horrible images, but another part of me demanded that I watch. No matter how much humanity could convince ourselves that we were civilized, seeing the unimaginable would always excite us.

As they went past me I was sure that they had yelled something, but whatever they might have said was lost to me. All I remembered was the blank look that filled the man's face. Dried blood was caked on so thick that it resembled a mask. I remembered seeing the little man pounding on the man's chest, but the image that stood out most was the blackish shade of the blood that pooled in the place where his eyes should have been. I watched them disappear through dull-looking silver doors, wishing that I hadn't looked because something, once witnessed could never be forgotten.

Jamie grabbed my arm. "Did you see the marks on his neck? Like some kind of giant cat?"

I hadn't noticed any marks or anything else as they passed, with the exception of those haunting pools of blood. "No, I didn't notice any marks on his neck."

Grabbing his cell phone, Jamie held it to his ear.

"Dispatch, I think that I just found our missing crew member."

chapter SEVEN

Jenny

The longer the party went on, the more intentional silence became as the senior members of the management staff who had once looked to William for a secure future now stared at the handsome stranger who stood alone. Wilson was one those senior members who had vast amounts of time into building the company from the ground up, banking on the promise of money and security. A promise that had now died with Nathaniel, leaving only tension and fear in its wake. Even William, who was usually calm and collected, seemed nervous to see the new boss standing there sipping his beer awkwardly and staring out of the window blankly.

"Has he always been this way? I mean, so distant from everything?" Wilson asked as he sipped at what seemed like his twelfth scotch.

It still amazed me just how handsome Renaud still was even after all these years. Not a wrinkle, grey hair, or age mark anywhere. I wondered what had happened to those warm eyes of his that used to scan the room, reading everyone silently. Looking at him now, they had been replaced by coldness. Not quite hatred, but they were certainly no longer warm. He hadn't lost his looks though, and just seeing him again reminded me of the eighteen-year-old boy that had asked me out on a date in high school. I had told him that I had had a boyfriend, and not two hours later my brutish, oversized footballer boyfriend was telling me that we had drifted apart and that he wanted to see other people. His two black eyes and the memory of what we did in the back of his car told me that we hadn't really drifted apart, just that Renaud had had a little talk with him. I had finally found someone who thought I was worth fighting for, literally. It was amazing how little he had changed and even more surprising that the few ways in which he had changed made him even sexier.

"Jenny, are you listening?" Wilson's booming voice broke through my reverie. I looked up and saw a cross look on his face as he glared at me. Wilson never got angry in public, he had always saved that until we were home in private, where we would discuss our arrangement, decide if I had broken it, and thought of an acceptable punishment.

"Yes dear, I'm listening. I just can't put my finger on what's happened to Renaud. Whether he's changed or is in mourning. After all, the world has changed since he was last here amongst the living and I would assume he only found out that he had lost his brother today." That wasn't a lie. Renaud looked troubled and had clearly isolated himself from the rest of the world. It seemed only natural.

"And that's exactly why he needs me," said William, butting into the conversation. With a cocky look he added, "Irene and I have it worked out with him. He needs me and the rest of us all if the company is to survive." Pointing at him, he joked "Look at him. It's like he is still in the 90's. A suit jacket and jeans with cowboy boots, really? And I bet he still listens to heavy metal and thinks smoking from a bong is what the cool kids do." I knew that under William's suave, confident expression there was a small tremor of uncertainty and fear. He was right about two things, however. Renaud was still living in the 90's and he had always been able to fill a pair of jeans. Even from this distance, his ass looked like the complete package.

Wilson seemed to be more troubled by Renaud's return than anybody else. As people we all had ghosts that haunted us, and his ghost had just returned. Merely the thought of him was reason enough for Wilson to become enraged, something uncharacteristic for him. For the most part he was mild-mannered. Dr. Jekyll, if you will. However, just the thought of Renaud brought about Mr. Hyde. I wasn't even allowed to walk around the city's riverside park as he was afraid I would see the sunsets and think of him. The truth is he could forbid the location, but not something that occurred every day. It was like being jealous of the sun. I liked to think that the irony of this new situation was something that Wilson never considered would happen so many years ago. When I met Wilson, I had needed security more than love. Renaud offered love, but no security. His family were poor, working class people at the time and he was more of a wild child then an actual family man. Times had changed though, as he now held our future in the palm of his hand. Wilson cared only about money and his career. He was too old to start over again and with the tough economy and our life style, we had eaten though most of our nest egg.

I turned my attention to my phone, and all the missed calls to Mike. If there was anyone that would want to see Renaud, it was Mike. He was the human equivalent of a golden retriever, always man's best friend and loyal to the end. This wasn't the first time that he had missed my calls. Most times, within an hour or so he would respond with some kind of excuse as to why he hadn't been able to pick up. It wasn't always like that though. There was a time when I could have called him at any time, day or night, and he would always be there. There was a time when I would smile and his whole face glowed and if I cried he cried too, but something had changed. I needed him more than ever, and now he decided to change.

I needed to alter the balance of power. William had Irene and her whole innocent schoolgirl look that she pulled off so well, but I had history with the man. Not because of a few shared DNA strands. Ours was passion, and if I approached him in the right light I could steal away William's leadership with ease. I could help place my man in the leadership role just like I did with his brother. It wasn't overly complicated. If you offer them what they want, they'll give you anything you want. If they didn't know that they wanted you, it was simply a matter of making them desire you. Most people might have missed it, but I saw the way he was staring at me, his eyes following me in the reflection of the window. Time may have stolen a lot from the man, but there was still love in his eyes. Still enough lust to get me exactly what I wanted. If only Mike would answer his damn phone. Mike was like a chess piece. My white rook, so to speak. I needed him to play his part if I was going to get my checkmate.

William was staring at Wilson with a troubled look on his face. Wilson was shifted his gaze from me to Renaud, deep in concentration and devising a plan. He always called it a power play look because like most truly powerful men he would use any means possible to grab just a little more power. I was one of those tools. A common saying is that behind every powerful man is an even more powerful woman. What nobody tells you is usually she is lying on her back or on her knees acquiring that power.

"Let's get another drink before there isn't any left."William said as he headed toward the bar for another round of drinks. He guided our small group like a shepherd guiding his flock to the slaughter.

As the small talk continued between them, Wilson stepped closer and ran his fingers down my back, kissing my neck. His eyes were still glued to Renaud, an eagle watching his prey from the sky. I'm not sure what he saw in him as he kissed me, but it was enough to make him smile. It was also enough to make Irene's usually warm eyes grow cold. That in itself made me smile, even if nobody truly understood the meaning, I did. The power was shifting, and it wasn't changing slowly like lines in the sand, it was an avalanche and I was going to be the earthquake.

"I think that you should talk to your old friend," Wilson whispered. "Try and repair the bridges that were burned. I think you and our new boss need to catch up and talk about those past times between you." Wilson had said so much in that little statement, and I did love to talk about those happy moments in my past. To reminisce about those dreams and passions that burned like roaring fire.

Slowly, I made my way towards my prey trying not to make it so obvious. It was hard, though, because there were few people remaining and Irene kept her eyes on me like one of those rent a cops from the mall watching a shop lifter. Whether it was Renaud's heart or her fiancé's career, what she was truly concerned about I will never know. She might play warm and fuzzy like a schoolgirl, but I had always suspected that there's a cougar inside her waiting for just the right moment to let her claws out. Luckily, my claws werea lot bigger and experience had taught me to keep them sharpened at all times. As I made my way toward him, he was poking at his reflection in the glass like the reflection belonged to a stranger. I pulled a penny from my purse and flicked itin the air as I moved in close.

"A penny for your thoughts?" I asked forcing myself to use the same innocent girl voice that he adored so much when we were in love.

He snatched it from the air with such quick reflexes that I barely saw his hands move. Around the edges of his shirt sleeve I could see ink from a tattoo. It had a sort of modern tribal look to it, at least from what I could see. Examining the penny closely, he started rolling it across his knuckles.

"1981," he said, smiling.

"It was stamped on my birthday," I said playfully as I touched his arm. "Still shines, too." I was shocked by the contact with his skin. His tattoos weren't just ink, but actually carved into his skin like some primitive test of manhood. As my hand traveled up his arm, I wondered how long it must have taken to carve these grooves into his flesh and the pain he must have endured. I was curious to see just how much of his body they covered, and the thought excited me a great deal.

"March, right?" He mumbled as he kept staring down at the penny rolling across his knuckles.

"May," I responded, coolly. I couldn't believe that he had forgotten my birthday. A man that could read a book and recall every detail from memory or could see a movie once and repeat the dialogue word for wordhad forgotten the greatest love of his life's birthday? Was he playing hard to get? I couldn't read him like I used to. His face was stone cold and I felt like I was staring into the eyes of a statue. I certainly couldn't manipulate him in the ways that I used when we were dating. Saying you don't really love me wouldn't make him crumble like it used to or snuggling into him and whispering poppa bear I love you wouldn't get me my own way.

"Sorry, I guess there's a lot of things about you that I've forgotten," he said shyly as he tossed the penny at me. Regret was written in his face as returned to gazing out of the window again. Had time really wiped away the memories and emotional attachment he had for me? I certainly loved a challenge, and Renaud was going to be a great one.

"You should read your book. Every detail about how wonderful I am is delicately written in the pages."

He didn't even smile as he muttered, "And I am sure that you have a copy displayed on your mantel for the world to see. A testament to just how amazing you truly are." He was still staring at his reflection in the window shifting his weight from side to side like he was solving one of life's great mysteries.

"I have the one you sent. As your letter stated, one of five that you autographed and the only one with a personal message in it. If I remember correctly, you said I was love of your life and it was the last love letter you'd ever write." I wished Wilson had let me keep it. Not for any sentimental value, but the dollar value. Mike's copy only had "Renaud B." etched across the acknowledgements and it was worth three thousand dollars. Mind you, that was mainly because the world thought the author had died, but Wilson destroyed it like burning those pages would wipe away my past history. In many ways, he did it because after enough time had passed the image of his face faded, but not the look in his eyes the day that I broke his heart. Even I was not immune to the sadness in his expression. Despite the millions he had made, I couldn't face him. It wasn't until this very moment that I realized why I had pushed him from my memory. I had to so thatI could look in the mirror and not see a monster in my reflection.

He pulled a smart phone from his pocket and looked down blankly at it.

"New technology confusing you?" I asked. I had to admit, he looked cute when he was confused. He always did. It was the same when we traveled together and he saw anything that fascinated him. He possessed a child-like enthusiasm that took over like he was trying to take everything in before it faded away and was lost forever.

"I've been trying to figure out if the damn thing works. I have been calling Mike all night and he hasn't answered. Is it broken?" He shook it and looked at me helplessly.

Grabbing it from his hand, I saw six missed calls. "He must be busy, since he hasn't answered my calls either." I sent myself a text from his phone and heard the familiar ding as the message was received. "And now I have your number," I said as I passed the phone back to him. "Just in case you need to text me, seeing that very few of our old crowd still live here."

"What exactly is texting?"

Before I even had a chance to respond, William interrupted us.

"Have a cold brewski," William offered as he handed Renaud a beer. It was rather amusing to see the all power, self-proclaimed king trying to grovel and get down to his new boss's level.

Renaud returned the phone to his pocket and took the beer as one of the hired help quickly took the empty bottle from his hand. He muttered his thanks and began sipping on it.

"You'll likely want to sit in on the managers' meeting on Monday morning to see how things work," William suggested as he took a sip of his wine. Irene was standing beside him, glaring at me. The little minx thought that she was putting her horse at the front of the race track and was now just realizing that my stallion was running a close second or at least he soon would be. "You know boss, I would love to show you the ropes."

Irene burst in, "Until you know the ins and outs of the business of course."

Renaud looked like he was ready to make a run for it as he listened to his options. He wasn't quite the business type, and I was certain that if I could convince Mike to back Wilson we could easily win the race.

"Has anyone seen Murlin?" he asked as he searched the room for her like she was his guardian angel.

William said, "I think she hooked up with a couple of the accountants. You know, given her personality..." Renaud was too busy scanning to room for her to understand that William was calling his best friend a whore. He was never exactly the understanding type. At least lot like the broken man standing in front of me.

Wilson stood by the elevator impatiently waiting and making small talk with one of the program managers. By the look of him, I was certain that he either thought his hopes for the future was a dead avenue to take or that I had left enough breadcrumbs to make Renaud chase me. It was always my next move that clinched the deal and made men follow those bread crumbs all the way home.

Renaud was still searching for Murlin. I could tell that he saw her as his constant in an ever-changing world. I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, letting my body slowly rub against his, trying to bring a memory back to life. The feel of my body against his should have been enough to grab his attention. Should have, but I felt like a hunter that had missed the perfect shot. I inhaled the smell of him like he was rose growing in a pile of manure.

"It was nice seeing you again. Don't be a stranger, ok darling?" Normally, I would have run my fingers along his to leave a lasting impression, but this time I didn't. This time it seemed like I would need to work a little harder to build up the sexual tension and bring his passion for me back to life.

I watched him through the doorway as the doors closed and the opening grew smaller. It seemed to me that Renaud had more of an effect on me then I had on him and that would certainly not do. I couldn't let this shift in power occur if we were going to live the life we wanted. I had done more for a lot less in my lifetime, but never have I walked away feeling so ordinary.

"Did you enjoy your time with your old flame?" Wilson asked. It was always his tone that made me feel dirty. It was well enough that I used my female lures to push him up the corporate ladder, but being treated like a common streetwalker always seemed wrong. After all, he was the one that suggested it early on. When his suggestions weren't acted on he commanded it and even now after all this time he looked down on me for doing it.

"It seems that the flame died out over time," I said as I started putting on more lipstick. "I'm not saying that it's not worth the effort, just that it's not going to be as easy as it has been in the past." I wasn't sure if Wilson was doubting my ability to seduce him or whether he was worried about him seducing me. He was well aware how I loved things that were unattainable.

"Just get him to see me in the same light as his brother did. I haven't worked this hard to let a little piss-ant like William swoop in and steal everything. "

I never quite knew all of Wilson's plans. It was always on a need-to-know basis, as he liked to think that the fact he controlled me and was always plotting made him a force to be reckoned with. I always let him see himself that way as the more power and money he earned meant the more I would inherit when he passed away, which I honestly thought would have occurred by now.

"I will get you what you want as I always do, darling." I leaned over and whispered, "Remember Baby, you own my body..."

Staring at me, he snapped. "Yes, and he owns your heart! Don't deny it." Grabbing my arm and squeezing, he muttered, "Don't you forget that what happened to one brother can quite easily happen to the other."

chapter EIGHT

Harrow

I had been following the King's men for an hour or so as they went from place to place collecting protection money. It amazed me how, in this day and age, they were actually able to keep this racket going. This wasn't the twenties, when the mob ruled the streets with blood and terror. It was 2016, where the long arm of the law might be just as corrupt, but it wore a pair of brass knuckles when it bitch-slapped you. Somehow tough, The King made old world intimidation work in the modern age. Following the thugs might not have been the most exciting thing, but it gave me a break from Mihaela, one I needed to get away from her particular type of crazy.

We had gone around the whole damn city, I thought. They were too busy looking behind them to realize I was tracking them from the rooftops. Legend said that vampires could turn into bats or mist, but if that was true, I never learned it and my maker never told me about it. It was evident that the city's broken economy and the empty real estate had not just affected the common folk who depended on the automotive industry to feed their families, but also those less desirable too. Either way, as soon as they turned onto Walker Road, I knew where they were going. The King was warned to stay away but, like most powerful men, he didn't follow my reasonable suggestion.

It had been some time since I had come anywhere close to my brother's house, if one could actually call it a house. Unlike so many other businessmen who had factories scattered around Essex county, with expansion into the USA and Mexico, Nathaniel had kept the whole operation in one place. It was a three-story, three wing, little city in its own right. Keeping the local economy strong, he would say.

I watched as the car shut off its lights as it turned into the entrance of the underground parking garage. As the door opened, I couldn't help but wonder how the gangsters got a hold of a company security badge. This wasn't the employee entrance, but Nathanial's private entrance. Just how much power did Wilson have in the company? Or even worse, just how much power did the Mob have in the family business? Slowly, the door opened, making a loud series of clinking sounds as it rose upwards. They drove a dark blue 1987 Ford Crown Victoria. These guys were a living stereotype if I had ever seen one. They wore dull brown suits from what looked like the seventies, and a couple gallons of Aqua Velva aftershave. Big, middle-aged Italian men past their prime sent on the easy collections freeing up the younger guys to battle and intimate their enemies and allies alike. I watched their lights fade into the darkness as the door closed behind them.

Whether they had planned it or not, they had just beaten me. This wasn't my home and Nathanial never invited me in, so I couldn't enter. It was one of the few limitationsof being immortal, depending on how one looked at it. He always called me brother, but treated me as more of an outcast than a member of his family. It started shortly after he realized what I had done. I never should have shared my secret with him. I wasn't truly tricked or trapped by Mihaela. I didn't realize what she was, but I didn't run from her. No, I welcomed what she offered. I was cursed from birth and she offered me immortality. She offered me life, and so I took it. When her make came, Renaud traded his life for mine. Of course, that was the past and the past could not be changed or forgotten. A memory can only be endured.

Humans would have missed the faint smell of cigarette smoke shifting through the wind, but to me it was as strong as if I was smoking it myself. I looked up and saw him. It was him, but the horrors he had faced had taken its toll on him. A large,wide gash ran down the whole length of his face and the other side of his face was torn away so deep that I could see bone. Even looking straight down upon me, my dear brother couldn't tell I was there. It was a good thing too, because I knew why he was home even if he didn't. He was here to finish up old business and I was a part of it. A soul for a soul after all.

"Now, what would a Nightbreed be doing here?" Murlin hissed as she strutted out of the shadows, swaying like a palm tree caught in the wind. "I thought this would be the last place that you would want to be. It should be the last place you want to be."

"And miss my brothers homecoming? How could I possibly be so rude?" This wasn't really small talk, but playful flirting. Even when I was a child, any conversation shared with her was filled with sexual innuendos. It wasn't that she was trying to be a whore, she just liked to play the role of one.

Her claws clicked as she ran them together, which was as much of a warning as she was willing to give to me. "He doesn't remember everything that happened, but I still do. I remember what you did to him, Harrow and it wasn't terribly wise."

"We all have our burdens to bear. My sins are just a bit heavier to carry."

Shaking her head in disgust, she said quietly, "Time seems to have kind to you. It's a shame that we all can't say that."

Still staring at my brother, I responded, "You are looking at the face of a predator, old friend. If I can still call you that. I must look the part."

Giggling, she ran her finger through my hair, "Oh Harrow, aren't we all predators now? Your kind of monster seems to get all the fame. What are you doing here, old friend?" I was surprised as she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me close. "He doesn't remember the details that lead to his destruction and I haven't told him. Leave this city and find a new home. Find a sanctuary far from this storm." I knew this was as close to compassion as she could offer, but I couldn't leave. I had been running and regretting everyday of life I had since that day. I wasn't running anymore. A touch of sadness filled his voice as she whispered, "I think he'll kill you, once his memory comes back."

"Yes I know, and I will let him. It's the least I can do."

I heard muffled voices in what appeared to be a heated argument. Threats and insults were being thrown around like grenades in the midst of a war. I was concentrating on the voices trying to distinguish who they were and what they were arguing over. It wasn't fear, but anger and frustration that bounced around like a ball being tossed in a room. Murlin went to say something, but I shushed her as I tried to concentrate on what they were saying. That's when I heard Jenny's scream.

I ran towards the dull grey aluminum doors that separated me from my friend. Even my hearing couldn't distinguish between them, but I was well aware of the fact that the number of voices was growing. At first I thought it was fear echoing in Jenny's voice, but the more intently I listened the more I began to understand that it was anger. Hatred and disgust twisted in her tone as she lashed out. I could only assume that it was Wilson bearing the brunt of her lashing. Jenny took emotional blackmail to a whole new level. The image of poor Wilson pissing himself as Jenny gave him a verbal lashing made me smile. That bastard truly deserved whatever abuse she gave him.

"You aren't invited to this ball, princess." Murlin blurted out as she walked up behind me and started knocking on the door. "What, you can't enter the palace?"

I wasn't sure if she knew that my genius brother built the whole damn place like an anti-vampire lair, ensuring that I was locked out. All three wings were more or less his home and as the rule definitely made clear I couldn't enter a home unless I was invited. It was like supernatural red tape.

"I must be invited if I am going to enter."

In confusion she snorted, "Even the parking garage?"

"Nathanial built the damn penthouse on top of it, so yes, I must be invited." I looked at the white stucco wall in front of me. Running my fingers along the rough surface it seemed so ironic that I could poke holes in it like it was wet paper, but even if I made a hundred holes I still couldn't step into the building. What a brilliant little bastard.

"The King wants the woman," a deep voice spoke. "He says to get her tonight, but we can't harm her. She's a bargaining chip." I couldn't help but wonder, was I the cause of this or was there something else happening here? Normally, a man like The King discovering that a man like Renaud had suddenly returned might try to blackmail him out of his empire, but then there was the message I sent last night.

"Yes, I know. It's like fishing. You get to catch them, but you don't get to eat them," another voice mumbled. "I don't like snatching the rich ones. They get to scream and bite, yet you can't smack 'em to shut 'em up."

"What about Bailey?"

"He's not to be touched yet. Boss wants to have a little talk with the broad. Something about this new guy that beat up his brother real bad," he chuckled. "He's going to be ok though. They didn't touch his pretty face, or anything else that he considers important."

"Yes, that would be a tragedy now wouldn't it?"

"Invite me in," I yelled, frustrated. "There are some very bad people just inside this door." I was pushing on the door and watching buckle inward, knowing that no matter what I did I couldn't even put a finger inside.

Murlin smiled and just sat there on the side of a large flower urn. "Why should I invite the big bad wolf into my house? Trading one monster for another isn't what I would call security."

"Please Murlin, don't do this. It's not for me, it's for Jenny," I pleaded with her.

"Harrow, leave now before Renaud realizes that you are here. Nothing good can happen if you step through those doors. Leave now and just let things happen."

"Invite me in Murlin or Jenny won't be the only one in trouble tonight!"

Her eyes turned glassy and began to glow as she snarled, "I don't serve you. You cannot command me and I think it's best to let the wheels turn as is. For now, we need to sit back and watch life pass us by and not interfere."

"Not this time, Murlin!" I slammed my fist into the thin metal door. Each time I connected with it, the sheets of metal rippled and boomed like thunder. The more I pounded the flimsy door, the more it began to shake and rumble. Finally, the whole thing caved inward sending shrapnel flying all over the place.I listened to the loud ringing sound that followed as the mobsters dived under cover.

"Why not just call the cops and claim there's a terrorist attack?" She yelled, sharply as she glared into the darkness. The truth of it was, I never thought of doing that and it probably would have been a lot easier then smashing through the doors. Luckily, I was the only one who couldn't be caught on camera doing it.

Long before I could see the flashing lights, I could hear the sirens wailing like a spoiled child. It was less than sixty seconds and they were on their way. I wondered if they had come this quickly on the day that my brother was hacked up. How ironic. Here I was —a real monster in the flesh— yet something even scarier killed the only good part of my life. It would only be a matter of minutes before they were here and Jenny was safe.

I turned to see a pair of blindingly bright headlights coming straight towards me. The rumble of the V8 engine broke through the night like a tone deaf child singing in a church choir.The tires made a loud screeching sound with each turn, but by the time I realized it was charging right at me, it was too late even for my quick reflexes. I pushed Murlin to the side and watched her bounce across the pavement, leaving a small trail of blood as she skidded along. The full force of the vehicle smashed into my midsection, folding me in half and driving my face into the hood. I could feel the metal under my flesh give way and buckle, making a hollow crunching noise as it sank, but the true pain came from the fancy angel hood ornament stabbing into my chest. Driving my fingers through the surface to stop myself from being tossed aside and run over, I screamed as the burning sensation started.

Each time they swerved to try and throw me off, I felt the ornament tearing through my body. If I was human, the sheer force of it would have torn me in two and spread my flesh across the parking lot.

"The son of a bitch just won't let go," one of them exclaimed as they hit the gas. I was most certainly not letting go. The force of the crash might not kill me, but it would hurt like hell even for me. My legs were shaking as they were dragged along the rough road and the heat on the bottoms of my feet from the friction was unbearable.

A loud booming sound echoed past my face as little shards of glass bit into my face. The fat bastard in the passenger seat screamed, "Won't this bastard fly off the car, or at least die?" as he fired a second shot. The shot drilled its way into my neck and stung like a bitch. I was going to rip off the man's hand who had pulling the trigger and ram it down his throat. A third shot whipped past my head followed by a fourth shot. Luckily for me, these two goons were way past their prime and blind as hell, otherwise I'd be feeling even more pain. Like I needed any more pain.

The car turned, jerking my body sideways and snapping the hood ornament, freeing my flesh from its grasp and guaranteeing their deaths. I started to slam my hands into the hood, rending jagged holes in my attempt to find a handhold. I was slipping on the blood covered hood, but still I refused to let myself be thrown aside as they skidded out of the parking lot and sped down Walker Road. I was struggling to hang on, but with each twist and turn the puncture holes that kept me from flying off became bigger and bigger until there was nothing left to hang onto.

They hit the brakes and skidded forward with such force that my body slid off as if I was being tossed by a catapult. The wind whistled as I flew through the air, smashing into a lamppost. I screamed in agony as my bones shattered and my body folded around it, much like a wet noodle hitting a wall. I started gasping as my throat began to fill with blood and I felt like I was drowning. A reflex commanded me to fight for air, even though I hadn't needed to actually breath in so long. I slid down the pole and landed on the ground. I laid there struggling to move, with a flashing sign hanging over my head. Looking up I could see the words "No good night ever started with 'Let's share a salad.'" Forcing my eyes to scan deeper into the night, I saw that the sign was for a place called "The Gentlemen's Club."

A young, female voice whispered, "Mister, are you ok?"The smell of cheap perfume and even cheaper whisky told me where I was, and the tingling that was spreading throughout my body told me what I had to do. Another broken promise, I thought. Never feed in public and not on those who have a future, especially younger folk who still have a chance to change their futures. As I looked up, I saw brilliant, youthful eyes filled with a twisted innocence of a sort. As she looked into my eyes a slow, relaxing calmness over took her being. She couldn't see the monster that I was, she only saw the vulnerable, injured man that I wanted her to see. "Can I help you?" she asked, with heartfelt concern in her baby blue eyes. She never had a chance to ask another question as she brought her head down closer to my chest to listen for a heartbeat. Realizing that there wasn't one, she looked at me wide-eyed for a second before I dug my fangs into her neck.

chapter NINE

Renaud

I watched the tail lights of the car as it escaped the parking lot. I could only guess the level of crime they had committed to warrant such a dangerous getaway. The car was boxy and chugged along as the pistons scraped the cylinders, meaning it was an older model car. It couldn't possibly belong to any of the snobs that had attended the party. As I watched, the red of the tail lights was swallowed by the night. In the distance, I could see several police cars charge toward us. If nothing else, the police response times seem to have improved since my wild, carefree days as a teenager. I couldn't put a finger on it, but my heart told me there was something evil lurking in the shadows, being called to the surface by the moonlight.

Jenny and Wilson came running in though the elevator doors, looking like hell. Wilson tried to hide the fear inside him, but I could see it in his eyes. They were a little too wide and sweat was dripping from his forehead as if he had just escaped a sauna. Jenny was even worse, and she didn't even try to hide it. Black, tear-tracked streaks of mascara stained her cheeks. I knew I should have felt something more than humor in the way she looked, but an image of a clown came to mind instead of that of a victim. Her dress was torn and tattered, and I couldn't help but wonder if Wilson had attacked her. He didn't appear to be scuffed up, but then I don't think that think would be.

Knowing that I had only really ever loved one woman and remembering the feeling was never the same thing. The image of the woman I once knew came to mind, but was it my memory or simply the way I chose to remember her? The mind plays tricks on you. It sugarcoats the way things were with the way it thinks things should have been. There were dangers in trying to relive the past, or even just trying to remember. The image that existed was never the real thing. Good or bad, my mind was always twisting emotions until they fit into its desired version.

A small crowd had gathered around the couple and, despite the fact they all appeared genuinely concerned, I had the impression that I was watching some kind of corporate soap opera. I stayed at my window, watching the flashing lights from the police cruisers. No doubt this would also be twisted into a nice neat box that could easily fit into another nice little box so that the world could have its desired version of events. Somebody had already mentioned teenagers trying to steal a car. I had my doubts though, because Wilson looked troubled and Jenny looked scared. Not just scared, but terrified. I waited for the crowds to disperse and calmness to enter the house before I went to sleep.

The August sun was already starting to beat down on the world below and it wasn't even 8 AM yet as I marched down Indian Road. It was already bad enough that I could feel the hot pavement burning the bottom of my feet as I went along. The humidity would make things absolutely unbearable in an hour or so, but I needed to return to my childhood home. Time hadn't just abused me, but my home as well. The surrounding buildings didn't look like houses filled with families and happy memories anymore. The whole street was almost empty now, with boarded-up windows and decay picking away at the foundations. I could see the beauty that had once flourished in each one and I was sure, given enough time, that the ghosts from my memory would stare out back at me.

As I passed by house after house, it seemed like such a waste. These weren't just houses built from brick or stone, but leftovers from countless dreams that had existed as each generation took them and added their own personal touches to make the their own. Each had a front porch that after being left for some time now, had started to twist and rot as they weathered, gravity taking over and smothering the beauty from them. Weeds and vines slowly climbed the walls until the etched stonework was replaced by brown and green as time made everything fade.

I didn't know why exactly, but my heart told me that there had once been laughter emanating from the very place I was standing. That I should remember orange bicycles with long white banana seats and playing cards poking through the spokes to make motorbike sounds. My heart told me that this very place should be a dear piece of my past that I treasured and wanted to relive, but if they existed they were scattered memories and too degraded to bring back to life.

I stood at the corner, staring at the dark brown brick house that towered over all the others, a veritable castle in their midst. It was old and designed to stand the test of time. Rounded brick formed the wall, with giant oversized windows looking in every direction. Plywood covered them, meaning the windows had been smashed and the elements had stolen the beauty inside, but I knew that it was once a thing of beauty. I could remember that on the front porch, there was once a swing and I spent much of my childhood swinging and watching the world go by. That I had stolen my first kiss there and smoked my first cigarette with Mike and Harrow in the backyard, hidden in the trees. Yes, those memories were still alive inside me. Time may have stolen a lot from me, but those few little pieces of yesterday survived like a mighty oak, refusing to die.

A loud creaking sound erupted from the stairs, and I could feel the wood buckling beneath my feet. I slowly made my way up to the front porch and stood there, staring at the door in disbelief. Nathanial had all this money and success, yet he let our family's home crumble in disrepair. Stupid little bastard had only a few simple tasks and he managed to screw up the most important part. A giant piece of rotting plywood blocked the doorway, stopping my entry into the house. A large red and white sign on the board stated "Private property, No trespassing." I pressed against it and it crumbled into little sheets of paper-like material. Great security, I thought as I forced my way through.

Stepping into what was once my family's living room where we watched Friday comedies and ate flavored popcorn was more than shocking. The ugly wallpaper that my mother had pasted on the wall and the stained cherry paneling had been ripped away, leaving just a skeleton behind. Dust and cobwebs replaced the laughter and love that had once lived here. Each step seemed to send a cloud of dust dancing into the air. The dust sparkled like diamonds as it rolled all around me. I wanted to swat it away with my hand, but common sense told me that it would only make things worse and I was already fighting the sensation to sneeze.

I entered further into the room, noticing a fresh set of foot prints in the dirt. A closer look revealed a second pair of steps scattered all around the room. Somebody had been here searching for something, but I couldn't imagine anybody would know about the secrets hidden inside here and even if they did, only my family's bloodline could open the portal to reveal its secrets. In the middle of the room, a full sized mirror still stood as it had always done. It looked just as impressive as before, with its thick oaken frame covered in runes etched all around it. My family's mysteries and history was recorded here. Proudly displayed, though I doubt few people could possibly read it anymore.

I stood before the mirror and looked at the creature staring back at me with his old, bloodshot eyes. I might be able to hide my true face from the outside world, but not from myself. This mirror was older then memory and in order to use it, you had to face your soul. It wasn't a curse, but a reflection of your true self. Some were brought to tears as they viewed the horrors inside themselves, while others like me were repelled by it. I stood there, pressing my hand against the glass infused with magic and whispered ignis, watching as a flame burst out of the palm of my hand. Slowly, the mirror started to glimmer and glow as a blue haze started form. I watched it take over until the entire mirror was consumed. Looking at my glowing hand as the flames danced along my skin, I felt the burning sensation that always followed and my stiff fingers began to tremble. If I were still human, the doctors would call it shock, but I wasn't human and it was just another side effect of using magic. I sliced a little gash into my palm and watched the blood rise from the wound, boiling. I shouted the second phrase, apertus, and saw the room's reflection fill the mirror. I heard a loud creaking as the floorboards beneath my feet started to rise and move. Turning, I watched the opening form. Like twisting metal, a screeching sound echoed all around me and the door opened. I walked downward, going deeper into the crypt where we kept all our secrets, both good and bad. I prepared to face my ancestor and any horrors that might come with him.

The tunnel seemed smaller then I had remembered. Too narrow and low for me to stand up in as I made my down the smooth slippery steps. It was cut deep into the stone this way with the hope that anyone who might be trying to escape couldn't do so easily. The dim light from the flame I was holding in my hand made shadows dance along the smooth walls. I wasn't scared of the monsters living in the shadows, just the one that was living inside of me.

At the bottom of the stairs I could see a flicker of blue. I should have expected it, but all the same I was surprised that it was there. It was eternal and the ancestor was afraid of the dark. Slowly, I made my way down the stairs and onto the flat base below.

I expected a familiar voice from the past to greet me like he did when I was a child, but when I called out only an echo of my own voice answered me.

"Ancestor, are you there? It's Renaud." I waited, and once again the only response I received was my echo taunting me.

Holding the flame out before me, I stepped into the giant cavern. Bones and dust were scattered everywhere, forming little unorganized heaps. I touched the wall and heard a loud whooshing sound as a flame burst along the wall, forming a ring. At first I was blinded by the bright light and blocking it from my eyes I scanned it once more. The immense cavern was just as I had remembered it. Cool walls that were made as smooth as glass from a hundred years of magic practiced in secret within it.

I walked to its center and stood, gazing around the room. The devil's trap that had kept the ancestor trapped here for so long had been broken. Had he escaped or was he set free?

"Damn it, Nathanial! What did you do?" I cried out. It was unimaginable that he would let him escape or even worse, that he set the bastard free.

The corner in which my family's spell books were usually stacked neatly and had been for generations was now empty. These were books that contained spells that had been collected, gathered, borrowed, and stolen over the course of hundreds of years. At least he had had the common sense to move them before abandoning our family stronghold. Now that he was gone, unless he had managed to escape death, I was left alone in my search. He hadn't left any clues to guide me, so now I was responsible for chasing down our dark secrets alone.

A flash of light blindsided me as I was thrown to the floor. My skin felt as if the flesh was being burned away until it reached the bone. It came in waves that flowed along my spine like polluted water draining into a sewer. I was trying to push the pain away, but the flames just kept growing hotter and hotter until I struggled to breath. I was twisting and reeling from the force of it, pounding on the stone floor and crying out for help, but there was nobody around to help me. I knew that somebody was there because I could hear the hollow footsteps all around me. I knew they were there, taunting me like a bad child would torture a bug. Despite trying to calm myself, I couldn't look past the pain. The only thing that I could think of was the agony that was invading my body and attacking me over and over.

I don't know how long I was out only that when I woke up my body still felt like it was on fire. The problem with being completely destroyed inside was that I had lost so much of myself. I am not sure if it was a dream or a fragment of a memory trying to surface, but it seemed real. Too real to be ignored and it scared me. I stood, staring at a tombstone with my name on it. Renaud Barthélémy. Same name, same blood line, yet a completely different person. I never got to meet my father, but I knew everything about him. He was cursed from the day he was born like every other firstborn male in our bloodline. Born to be collected and dragged down to pay the price like a bad debt at the bank. It wasn't exactly his debt to pay, but he still did. My twin brother Harrow inherited that burden. It was a simple twist of fate that chose him and not me to carry the curse. I was born one minute and twenty-three seconds after him. One minute and twenty-three seconds that made all the difference. It was supposed to let me live a real life, but it didn't. I decided that day that I would break the curse. I was twelve when I decided that I didn't want my brother to face the horrors that our ancestors had thrown upon him. The problem was, I didn't know how I was going to do it. An even bigger problem was that my brother had decided to break the curse and he knew how to do it. With that image firmly planted in my mind, I opened my eyes to find myself laying in a pool of my own drool, thinking that if the curse was broken then who killed my brother?

I sat up and stared at the little hole curved into the stone that lead up into the real world. I knew that I had to go and finish my business before my time was up, but it didn't really matter if I was up there in the sunlight or down here hidden in the shadows. Either way, I felt like a ship lost at sea. I was alone and no matter how much sunlight I saw over the horizon, by the time I could reach it I would still find myself alone in the night.

chapter TEN

Mike

It hadn't been a good morning, that's all I could say. Haunted by the faces of the dead, I felt cursed to carry all of their sins and not one of them was my own. No longer did my dreams bring me back to my childhood where everything fit together like delicate puzzle pieces skillfully crafted to hug each other softly. I was going to miss those moments. My dreams were my safe haven from the real world.

I didn't bother checking my messages. Jenny, Irene, and an unknown number popped up, but these would undoubtedly be more troubles and bad news. Jenny would be fighting with Wilson over sex and money, Irene would be looking for validation that William wasn't an asshole, which he was and who knew who the voice was on the unknown number. I just didn't have the energy or pure heart today to save the people in my world. I needed to save myself for a change. My own soul seemed darker today and I needed an escape.

I decided to wander through my old neighborhood. To get lost in the way things used to be before I saw the darkness in people. The neighborhood was boarded up like an old western ghost town. Like most people in Windsor, I realized that we needed a new bridge, but all the history in this little section of town was going to be lost when it came. The doors and windows on every house might be boarded up and decay seemed to be slowly choking the beauty and life from my childhood world, but the life I knew still existed. Each house in the row had its own special memories and charm attached to it. Each one still had life as long as one could take the time to look. Squirrels chattered and bounced around every tree, bees lived off the land as they dashed through the coloured flowers on the weeds, and even rodents scurried contentedly through the walls. It was easy to think of such a place as memory lane, because all of my carefree childhood days were spent here desperately trying to escape, yet it was only as an adult that I truly realized it was not just a memory, but had become a part of me.

I didn't know why I always stopped to sit on the steps of the Barthélémy house. I used to think that it was because it reminded me of my youthful innocence, or all those lostdays that I happily wasted here, but I always ended up here at least a few times a year. I spent some time letting my memory recreate the ugly white wicker chair and the matching swing that gracefully hung on the porch. I could almost hear the constant creaking sound that the rope made as it scraped across the pine beam when we would sit there discussing our futures. It seemed to me now that Renaud and Harrow never dreamed of the future that the world would bring them. It was always me and Jenny that still believed we would find our fame and fortune. I guess even then the twins saw darkness in their later lives. Even Renaud's first kiss seemed to scare him. I remember the way he blushed and whispered, "This isn't going to end well for me." Little did he know how right he was, or how the aftershock of his heart breaking would affect those around him.

A loud echoing noise emanated from the loose plywood covering the door. Even here, street kids find a reason to break in, though there isn't anything of value left anymore. The priceless parts were recycled into the new house and I knew for sure that the sentimental value cost much more than it was worth. Nathanial wouldn't have it any other way though. He kept insisting that he was bringing the heart of the old home into his new one. He even had Renaud's bedroom rebuilt exactly as he left it. He had always thought that one day his brother would return home just the way he'd left it. I had always hoped that the broken man who ran away into the night would be return with a wife, kids, and hopefully as a better man. Nathanial had even kept all those stupid little hiding places that Renaud thought nobody knew about and hid all his treasures in. Of course, we had all known about them.

I looked at the crack in the doorway and thought I saw a shadow moving past the opening. Slowly, I turned my head to get a better view, but I couldn't see anything. Like a coward, I carefully moved closer to the thin plywood that time had weathered to the point of being almost paper-thin. My hands trembled as I leaned in closer to the opening. I was too nervous, I thought as I moved inch by inch trying to see what was just out of my view. I knew that curiosity killed the cat and I was quickly running out of lives. Last night made sure that I would never forget that fact.

"Is anybody there?" I asked. I waited for a minute and heard nothing so I moved a little closer before shouting again, "This is private property and these houses can be dangerous. If anyone is in there, please leave now. You won't get in any trouble." Like an idiot, I walked closer to the doorway. I was still talking, but I wasn't sure if it was to calm the person inside the house or myself. Either way, I didn't think it was working for either of us. I rubbed my finger across my nose instinctively, realizing that there was a horrible odor in the air. Old houses like this always had their own smells; rotting boards, mold, and dead things that had gotten stuck in the walls, but this was something different. I wouldn't exactly call it evil or supernatural, but it certainly wasn't a flowery smell. I had never been lost in a sewer, but I was sure if I was that this was what one would smell like.

I stood still for a moment, running my finger along the doorframe. It felt smoother than I had expected. I called out again to the person on the other side of the door. Whether they were real or imagined, I wanted to give them plenty of warning that I was coming. I grabbed hold of the thin slat of wood that was flapping in the wind and slowly pried the crack open a little more. Peering through, I saw a pair of bright blue eyes staring back at me. The shock of it made me shriek like a little girl and roll backwards. A skinnier person would have jumped backwards, but as a slightly weightier person, I had to jump and let gravity do the rest. I hit the steps and felt myself tumbling downward, smashing into the rough pebble-like gravel. The force of my aching body sent a cloud of dust floating into the air and tears sprung into my eyes. I turned over onto my back, struggling to lift my head and keep eye contact with the door. As I gasped for air, all I saw was the weathered plywood shaking as the wind kept its control.

It took me a few minutes to gather myself and pull my ass up off the ground. I didn't know what I was expecting, but whatever it was nothing happened. It took a few minutes for me to realize that I had just fallen on my ass and someone might be rolling on theirs laughing at me. Embarrassed, I searched the street and thankfully, with the exception of the squirrels, there wasn't anyone around who could have seen me.

"Definitely a girl in that house. Certainly a troubled teen, and what kind of man would I be if I just ran away? Damn responsibilities," I mumbled to myself.

I walked to towards the house, this time determined that I wouldn't fall on my ass. I walked up the steps one by one, listening to the groaning sound the boards made with each step. Thank god it wasn't dark outside, I thought as I made my way to the door and pried it open. I glanced through the opening, expecting to see a young, trampy-looking teen, but I couldn't see anything as I scanned the inside of the house. It looked empty enough and time hadn't been fair to the place.

Sticking my head through, I called out.

"Is anybody there?" Again, nobody responded, but I did hear a quick series of popping noises. It sounded like a woman's high-heeled shoes knocking about on the floor as she ran away to safety. "Damn it," I muttered. Now I had to go in there just to make sure that she wasn't hurt or a drug abuser.

I forced my body through the opening. I expected to hear more footsteps but there was nothing. I could see footprints that seem to run in circles all over the place. By the looks of it, there were two people wandering around, lost in the house.

I was looking up what was left of the stairs, but to climb it I'd have needed to be a monkey. I doubted that they would have been able to climb up faster than I could enter the house. I turned to scan the room and saw something fly towards me. I ducked, covering my face as a black shape came hissing right past me. I could hear a gravelly yowling sound as I tried to curl into a ball. I looked over to see a black object scurrying across the floor towards the door. It stopped at the door for a moment and stared back at me. It as the ugliest damn cat that I had ever seen. It seemed to me that my life had been filled with ugly black felines. First Renaud's damn cat, and then the one last night. The cat hissed and vanished through the opening.

There were clothes left scattered across the floor, but they weren't exactly the type of clothes that I expected to find homeless teens to be wearing. No scruffy torn jeans and faded t-shirts like I would have thought. In my experience, homeless girls do not tended to be princess types like I'd see in church on Sunday. All tattooed and pierced like expressing their individuality was so important that they would trade their futures and sometimes their very freedom to obtain it.

The smell of Synactif perfume filled the air. I knew the smell quite well, considering it was considered a classic and many women young and old wore it. It certainly wasn't the cheap discount stuff one could buy anywhere. I guess my homeless companion might have stolen it, but that didn't explain the clothes. I bent down and grabbed a pair of red high-heel shoes that seemed to shimmer as I turned them and the light reflected off of the little gold metal specks. I didn't know a lot about shoes, but these seemed expensive.

I followed the trail of discarded clothing. There was a longthin red dress that felt silky to the touch and reminded me of lingerie. What the hell was happening in here? It looked like some kind of orgy had occurred, only the clothing seemed to indicate that the owner was some kind of high class escort. I followed my trail of bread crumbs. A pair of fishnet stockings, a black silk bra with small, string-like straps, and a g string that you'd expect to see a hooker wearing. I picked them up and let them dangle from my finger. It looked more like string then underwear and, despite being an upstanding kind of guy, the image of the owner wearing this little thing kept bouncing around my mind.

"Do those belong to you or have you finally given into the fact you are a dirty old man?" It was followed by a loud laugh and the character added, "Or is this what you wear when nobody is looking!" I saw a pair of shiny black dress shoes and faded black jeans that looked too new to be well-worn jeans, but too faded to be new.

"How do I know they don't belong to you?" I said, still staring at his feet.

Laughing a familiar voice responded, "It's not Halloween and those aren't the clothes I wear when I dress up as a hooker."

In shock I cried out, "Renaud!"

chapter ELEVEN

Jenny

He had lied to me. Of course, he would never admit it, but it didn't take a genius to figure things out. Two thugs had walked right up to us and grabbed me like I was property and Wilson didn't even raise a finger to defend my honor. I still had bruises on my arms. I had tasted fear before, too many times to be exact, but it had always been fearing that my future would lead me nowhere; not that I wouldn't have one. The two men knew him by name and the way they talked to him in such a condescending way wasn't the only strange part, but his reaction was strange as well. He didn't fight back or even act insulted. He didn't come right out and tell them "take the whore," but his lack of action said so much more than his words ever could.

If it hadn't been for the garage door imploding, I would probably be in the trunk of some ancient rust-bucket being held for ransom like a princess. I liked the idea that my life had value, that somebody had deemed me worth stealing, but I truly doubt Wilson would have paid. By the way they were talking they knew him, so for all I knew this was some pre-planned event. If that door hadn't imploded, who knows what I would be doing right now or where I would be.

I stood outside his office listening quietly. "His presence doesn't change anything," Wilson bellowed from his office. "I don't know who attacked your brother, but it won't change our plans. You will have what I promised and I'll get the company." Leaning back in his chair, he started dabbing the sweat from his forehead with his silk handkerchief. "Yes, it was a slip of the tongue. I run the company until I retire and then you take over full ownership." I listened to the conversation intently, trying to determine who he was talking to. "That isn't necessary. I don't know who threatened you, but you don't need to do that." He kept staring at the picture of Sammy and I that he always kept on his desk. "No, you don't have to do that. Our deal was that if I fail, you will take the collateral until you are paid in full. It's not too late and your guys came for the collateral way too early. Agreed!" Slamming his hand on the top of his giant oak desk he started squeezing the phone receiver tighter. "Son of a bitch. Son of a bitch." I could imagine his knuckles groaned and crackled as he gripped the phone a little tighter. "No, I didn't mean you King, I meant this damn situation." Wilson rarely drank alcohol, but in this ten-minute conversation he'd already down two scotches. "Yes sir, I'll take care of the situation."

I quickly snuck away and slipped back into my chair like I had never left. I grabbed my cup of tea in an attempt to look nonchalant, but it tasted terrible. Cold tea never had the same taste as it did when it was freshly brewed and hot. I stared at the door expecting Wilson to come slithering out as he slipped away, making some kind of excuse as to why he had to run to the office. I always believed him before as he never gave me reason not to, but now I had doubts. I waited for some time expecting him to come out at any moment, but he never did. He always had his secrets, but it was always business and as long as he was making money I was content to live in ignorance. I even did all sorts of un-ladylike things to help build his career. He never appreciated the things I had to do and endure just so he could move a little higher up a little faster in his career. I couldn't help but wonder what else he would expect me to endure now in order to help his career along. I had finally decided that I had to see what he was doing, and walked over to his office.

I called out to him as I neared his door.

"Wilson, what are you doing?" He was still talking on the phone and looked even more stressed than he had been previously. He realized that I was there, but didn't take the time to respond. With a look, he slammed the door right in my face. Wilson seemed to have secrets after all. Too many secrets.

I wasn't sure what Wilson was doing, but he sure took his sweet time doing it. I wasn't used to being alone so the day seemed longer than most days. Most days I would do some shopping and spend Wilson's money, but I wanted to see what my darling husband was doing behind closed doors. He had never closed his door before, but now he hadn't just closed it, he had slammed the damn door on my face. He wasn't exactly whispering as he kept going on about Renaud this and Renaud that. I had always known that Wilson was jealous of Renaud, but now it seemed like there was some kind of mutual hatred and I was the prize caught in the middle. The last twenty hours had made me wonder if maybe I had made the wrong choice. Another part of me was sure that I hadn't, though. Renaud's success came from a broken heart. It was that pain that had lingered and made him climb from rags to riches. If I had stayed, everything would be different. Renaud wouldn't have written that book if he had felt my love. I truly did love him once, but he didn't have a future back then. He was just a worker bee, and if I had stayed I would be just another worker bee's wife like all the other woman I grew up with. Some had jobs and most had kids, but the truth was at the end of the day they were just worker bees. They didn't travel to Europe twice a year, they didn't see the beaches of world, and they didn't have the time to live for themselves. They always had to put family first when we were creatures who were designed to love ourselves first and foremost.

I picked up my phone and just lookedat it. So many contacts conveniently listed in groups. Wilson's family, business associates, charity contacts, educational alumni, retailers, and financial contacts. I even had a listing for bankers, but no friends. Not a single listing. I used to think of family as friends with blood ties, but over time I realized that I had no friends. I scrolled down to the other folder. Opening it there were only two contacts in it, Mike and Renaud. Once the two people in the world that I was closest too, yet now they were so distant from me that they are now listed under 'other.'I clicked on Mike's name and stared at the white box with the flashing cursor. I didn't have anything to say, but I was lonely.

"Hey, what are you up to?" I texted. I waited for a response, but I wasn't exactly surprised when there wasn't one. Over the last few years Mike didn't respond as fast as he used to.

I clicked the name Renaud and my fingers hovered over the textbox. I asked myself, should I? Dare I text him?

"Hey handsome, what are you up to?" I took the plunge. Tacky I know, but I had to break the ice somehow. I saw the three little dots signifying him trying to respond start and stop a few times under his name, but no message.

The new message chime sounded and I popped open the message. It was Mike. "I am just hanging out with handsome," was his response. I couldn't help but smile. It was just like old times. Renaud getting all the attention and Mike trying to turn it into a joke. I always knew that Mike worshipped me, but he was too much like a brother for that kind of thing. I responded in turn, "What are you two doing then?"

He replied, "Just drinking coffee and chatting about life." I wanted to ask them if my name had come up, but I was afraid to hear the answer. I was afraid that the answer would be no.

"I guess he has lived quite the life after traveling for fifteen years."

"You would think so, but he isn't really saying much about it. I think that it was either so damn good he doesn't want to brag, or so bad he is too embarrassed to say much."I wanted to text him and ask if I could join them. I felt like I belonged, but I couldn't. Not yet at least, because I still had to wait until the proper time to slide into their lives.

Wilson opened the door and stormed out like he could read my mind.

"I need you to go to the bedroom and stay in there until I call you." I couldn't tell if he was upset or scared, only that he was sending me to my room like a naughty child. Normally, I liked being a naughty girl, but not in this way.

"Why am I being sent to my room? I'm not a child."

"Do as I say, now!" he snapped. Running his hand across his face he looked like he was about to scream, but he took a deep breath as he walked over and took my hand in his. "Listen, Jenny. I am having a meeting with some men.... not business colleagues. I need you go to our room and wait for them to leave." Stroking my hand, he whispered, "Jenny, just do as I ask for your own safety."

"Wilson, tell me what's going on," I pleaded as I squeezed his hand. His skin felt so thin and soft as I held it in mine. Had it really been so long since we had held hands? There wasn't really any love or passion, but we at least always gave the impression of a loving couple. Hadn't we or was I just fooling myself?

"It's business, Jenny. Just do as I ask and everything will work out. It's business and I always win at business." Was he just trying to brave or was he really so sure of himself? He was a brilliant business man,that was a fact. He was like a cobra in a way. He looked so majestic that victims would belulled by how beautiful he looked, but by the time they realized how dangerous he was, they hadalready been bitten and were facing death.

"As you wish,darling," I responded. I stood up and headed toward our bedroom. I hated feeling this way, this helpless sensation that I was weak and had to hide in the back to be protected. Wilson had always showed me off like a trophy. I had always been a symbol of his money and power, not an embarrassment.

As I turned the corner I heard him utter one last reminder. "Don't leave the room until I call you Jenny." I entered the room and closed the door. I sat on the bed trying to decide what I was going to do with myself when I heard a click. Running over, I grabbed the handle and it was no surprise that it was locked. The bastard had locked me in. He wasn't just hiding me in the back, he was locking me up like a frightened child.

Idle hands were the devil's playground, my parents used to say. My father always made it a point to make sure his only daughter was never left with too much time on her hands. He had gotten my mother pregnant when she was sixteen years old and feared I would follow in her footsteps, so he demanded that I studied hard or helped him fix cars or mow lawns. Pretty much anything that would make me self-sufficient, unlike my mother. She was a helpless princess at best. She cooked supper but it never tasted good, she washed laundry but the whites always turned pink, and she loved shopping but we never had enough money. My father loved her too much and she loved him too little.

I sat there trying to decide what I was going to do with myself. Wilson had always said that the bedroom was designed for sex and sleeping, so he never allowed us a TV in the bedroom. Of course, there hadn't been a lot of sex there either so I rarely spent much time in here. There were no books to read as I wasn't what you would call a great reader. When we bought the three-bedroom condo with the added nanny suite I told myself that I would make it my own and add personal touches to make it my style, but I never did. I didn't even add a coat of paint. The truth was that nothing in the place was mine. The house, like everything in it including me, belonged to Wilson. Well, until he died. Then I would own it all including my body again. It was a fact he never let me forget.

I went for a soak in the bath. A long soak that would relax my whole body until it was like jello. I walked into the unsuited bathroom and started the water in the marble heart shaped tub. Again, tacky as hell I know, but when we bought this place I had the idea that our sex life would be like a porno movie so I kept it. Unfortunately, I didn't realize that it would be just a one-sided film that nobody would even care to watch. The tile was hideous, I thought as I laid there soaking in the heat. It might have looked fancy and the idea of it made me feel rich, but it wasn't homey. It looked and felt too much like a five-star hotel instead of where I actually lived. I laid there in the tub watching the white snow flake bubbles that covered my body. Well, covered the all the interesting parts at least. I adored the way my body looked, with my slender legs and the way the suds made me feel like some kind sex symbol. I stretched out and slithered beneath the water, letting all my stresses fade away.

I was tempted to snap a picture or two and play with Renaud and Mike, but for some reason it didn't feel right. Maybe our history made it feel wrong, or maybe seeing him and knowing what I will do to Renaud made it feel wrong. If I was developing morals, today wasn't the day. Today was a day to play. I held my phone at arm's length and positioned it to get the best angle. Carefully, I examined every detail of the pose. If you looked carefully, you could see just a hint of my nipple. Not enough to look like whore, but enough that someone might think it was just a sexy accident. That was the best part of sexy accidents. They were all carefully planned and calculated. I popped open a text box and tapped Mike and Renaud's names, attaching the picture with the accompanying text, "Here, have a great morning." I could see that the message was received and read, but there was no response. Strange as it might sound, I was hoping for some kind of reaction. I would have preferred a "WOW" or "Hey sexy," but there was nothing. I would have even settled for being called a whore. Any reaction was better than nothing at all.

Glancing out into the bedroom I could see the lights on the intercom panel blinking bright red. I had always played dumb when Wilson wanted to teach me how to use it. He truly enjoyed the feeling of being superior. He had that old school mentality that women were fragile and helpless and the man was the king of the house. I gave him that, but I wasn't just another dumb blonde. No, I played that part like a rock star, but I always had a knack for figuring out technology whether it was a new cell phone, social media, or in this case an intercom system for spying on the household.

I walked over to the panel and went through the icons one by one. It was not unlike a tablet with specific icons related to each function and quite easy to use. I pressed "security" and a 3D image of our house started to form on the screen. I pressed on the office icon and a password prompt popped up. Wilson always thought that he was smart and that nobody could outsmart him. Of course, after watching him over the years, it wasn't exactly neuroscience to crack the password. I typed "P@ssw0rd" and heard the chiming that indicated I had inputted the proper password. I clicked on "listen" and heard voices.

"So on the day this Renaud guy arrives, my little brother gets a visit from this couple. A man and a female." A loud slamming noise followed, "And they broke his arm, telling him to bring me a message. Who the hell do they think they are? I run both sides of the bridge. Nobody tells me what to do anymore."

Wilson's voice was cracking as he responded, "The female would be Murlin. Apparently she's been with the family for years and they treat her like family." I could just imagine him pacing around as he continued, "There was no way I could have known that he would return."

"Johnny says she's a wild one, this Murlin. Not just sexy as hell, but a tough bitch too. Look at his arm. She snapped it in two like it was a twig."

Wilson mumbled, "I don't know if she could do that to tell you the truth. Sexy as hell, but I never would have thought she was capable of something like that."

A voice snapped, "Do you think that I am lying? Do you think I would lie about some bitch with an accent breaking my arm?" A loud crack happened, followed by a moan. They must have slapped Wilson across the face and I hope like hell they broke his nose. I heard that boyish whimper of his that always reminded me of a frightened child.

There was silence for some time before a loud boom followed, breaking the eerie peacefulness. "Is the picture of the man in the back of the book the one that attacked your brother?"

A deep voice replied, "Yes, that's him. He is a little older now, but that's the spitting image of him. That's the bastard that told me to tell you to leave this guy's wife alone."

"My wife was engaged to him when they younger. Maybe he is still stuck on her. She doesn't want anything to do with him, but she will do her part in seducing the company away from him."

The first man snapped, "That raises a few good questions. How does this guy know about our plans and what you offered?" A series of loud slaps followed and he muttered, "Who did you tell, Wilson? I told you when we started this thing it had to be on the down low."

Pleading, Wilson whined. "I didn't tell anyone. Why would I be so stupid? I'd end up doing serious prison time if we were caught."

"No Wilson, you won't live long enough to make it to a 6 x 8 cell." Another loud series of cracks followed that was so loud it sounded like thunder. "Who did you tell? A business partner, cops or the bitch you offered up as collateral?"

"I didn't tell anyone, King! I swear I didn't whisper a word."

"I swear to you Wilson, if this thing goes south I am going to whore out your pretty little wife and daughter until your debt is paid in full." What damn debt was he referring too? This made my skin crawl as the threat he had uttered sunk in. That bastard traded us for money. He was always looking for the fine print and selling me was his way of winning. It really surprised me that he was willing to throw me away so easily but selling our daughter was unforgivable. She might not be his daughter by blood, but he raised her like one. How could he throw her away like everything he'd done for her as her father had been an act?

"No, King. My daughter wasn't in the deal. Only Jenny, and that's only if I fail." That son of a bitch made me his collateral.

The dumber sounding one added, "I am not touching ..." A ding sound rang out. I looked and saw a message from Mike.

"What the hell was that?" Fear took over as I realized "listen" had turned on the microphone. A series of booms followed as Wilson whined and someone screamed, "Are we being recorded?" Loud grunts followed as he yelled, "You goddamn fink." After a moment I heard some say "Find out where that came from."

My hands shook as I tried to text Renaud. "Help me! I'm being kidnapped!"

It sounded like thunder as the door broke open. It was one of the men from last night. His face was bruised and twisted. He looked more like a freak then a man and it was obvious he'd been beaten for some kind of failure. I could be certain that a whore would be treated much worse than a thug for failure. I ran towards the bathroom screaming, trying to escape. My neck was jerked back and I heard a loud clicking noise as my feet shot forward and I was yanked backwards.

chapter TWELVE

Harrow

As a child, she had been the cutest thing I had ever seen. Darling blue eyes with perky dimples and long, golden hair like a fairytale princess. Now every time I saw her I had to ask myself what the hell she had been thinking. That long lion's mane had been completely ruined and her natural beauty was gone. She had one side of her head dyed deep purple and the other dark blue, with some kind of bull ring piercing in her nose. She was wearing skinny jeans and a black t-shirt that had some kind of bouquet of white roses on it and the word "Jaded." Mihaela kept telling me that it was just her expressing herself, but what about her was she trying to express? It was hard to believe that she was Jenny's daughter.

She kept flipping a single strand of hair behind her ear as she read, but for reasons I will never know it seemed to always want to fall back into place. I had watched her grow up and even with the disappointments I still thought she was worth saving. Even when she got her useless degree in Philosophy which meant that she would end up working at a convenience store or selling her ass like her mother did, I had to believe that a life of darkness was better than facing the family demons. Looking at her though, it seems to me that her personal demons were a lot scarierthan anything haunting my bloodline. It was the leftovers from the city's heyday when the owners made floor wax on the main floor and bootleg whisky in the basement. There were even tunnels that allowed my kind to enter the place during the daylight hours. It was a themed bar with blood colored wallpaper, painted over windows, and dim, spooky lighting. If only they knew that the real monsters came here to watch them, would they still want to emulate our eternal curse? Most of them yes, but the smart ones would want a true human existence. Life, love, and children to carry on their bloodline, rather than victims to follow them.

This wasn't just a regular bar, which was a good thing for us. It was called "Second Life" and had been designed with my kind in mind. Well, not my kind literally, but for those dumbasses that liked to pretend that they were Nightbreed. The dark hearted and soulless creatures that hid from the sunlight and wandered the world alone.

Mihaela moaned, "Why don't you just change her now, Daddy?" as she ran her finger along the ice cold glass and pretended to sip on her water. Being immortal for as long as she has been and living on blood for countless ages even though our kind could drink water, she still hated the taste. Who was I to judge, though? I drank beer, but they all tasted the same and I never got to enjoy the affects.

"I won't yank her from the living world and drag her into our darkness unless there is no other option," I responded, still staring at her like she was a helpless child. "We don't know for sure that it's coming for her. There are still a few weeks before her 18th birthday." A few weeks before she was either free to live a menial existence, die a horrible death, or joined the damned. If I still prayed, I would be praying that she had the chance to live a normal, uneventful life.

Leaning closer, Mihaela kissed me and smiled.

"Oh daddy, I think you already know that the child has no other option. She is going to be a victim of dark circumstances." Drawing a figure on the table, she continued. "You know as well as I do that your brother is here to finish up old business and that child is the product of all of it." Easily distracted, her attention was captured by a black haired kid wearing leather pants and some kind of knee-high boots. Hell, even I had to wonder if it was a male or female. You couldn't always tell these days, unless you were curious enough to bring them down to the underground passages. It usually ended up quite messy that way though, and was too much work in the end. The biggest issue was that Renaud might be the most dangerous monster lurking in the city, but not the only one. Wilson made sure of that when he decided to risk it all, and the risk he took affected Jade and Jenny more. The King might cripple or kill him, but he'd use the girls until there was nothing left and then sell them off like cattle to an even sicker bastard. I couldn't let that happen.

The sour odor of fresh hair dye invaded my senses like I was trapped in a fire that I couldn't out run.It was only 1 PM and there was already a whole army of smells invading the place, yet that smell of hair dye only hours old was troubling. I scanned the room trying to figure out what it was that was out of place. I knew the smell didn't belong to Jade, and I looked around again. It hit me. Cheap aftershave. Aqua Velva, in fact. Not the modern stuff, but the old 80's crap and I knew who it was coming from. I just needed to figure out where they were.

"I hear squeaking," Mihaela giggled. "Looks like we have a newbie trying to blend into the family." I could hear it too, the sound that new shoes make when they're being broken in. He was a medium-sized man with an athletic build, scarred knuckles, and short, freshly dyed black hair wearing a long leather trench coat that smelled brand new. "Oh just look at him, daddy. He looks so yummy that I could just eat him up!" Mihaela exclaimed. He was heading in a straight line towards Jade, but kept glancing at me. He didn't belong here, that was for sure. While most of the troubled youth that gathered here looked pale and twig-like, this character was tanned and buff. As he passed me, making a beeline for Jade, I saw the evidence I needed to mark him as prey. Five green marks in a circle that formed a small star. A gang mark. Something the King stole from the old time mobsters, and the one thing I needed to end his life. His death wasn't just to protect the innocent, but to send a message to another enemy I would have to add to my list. A list that just kept growing and growing.

A forced stumble from the man connected with the little round table and sent Jade's coffee slopping all over place. He chuckled and forced a boyish smile onto his face to lure her in. She seemed quite embarrassed by the whole event. I could hear her heartbeat slowly begin to increase as her body temperature rapidly climbed. When I was first turned this part of the game was such a turn on, but watching it happen to her seemed dirty for some reason. Was she really that innocent or was he just that charming? I could hear them flirting back and forth, but for the life of me didn't understand how his second-rate flirting could make a first-rate woman so excited.

He hadn't been invited to sit but took a seat beside her like he owned the joint.

"You seem like a good girl looking for just a little bit of bad," I could overhear him whisper as he moved in a little closer. Running his hand along her arm he asked, "So are you a Fanger too?"

I looked at Mihaela. "Convince the newbie to follow you to the tunnels."

Her eyes twinkled at my suggestion as she rubbed her hands together.

"Oh goody, a quick snack!" She was struggling to keep her fangs from breaking out as the anticipation inside her grew, as I knew it would. Her ideal snack was young, healthy warrior-types and she could see that past the goth makeup and glamour. She could hear the power of his heart pushing blood through his body. He might look calm and act confident, but he was nervous. Too nervous for this to be a random pick up of a strange woman in a low class theme bar.

"Bring him to the tunnels, but I want to talk to him before you feast."

"Really, Daddy?" She asked in disbelief. "I can really have him?" The spoiled little school girl took over and she began to shine as she examined her prey. "Ok Daddy, I'll lure him into the darkness." She walked away, humming some ancient tune that I had never heard before.

From the second she walked away from our table, all eyes were on her. She had the look most of these children wanted, only she was the real thing and didn't have to act. It didn't hurt that she wore a dress that was cut a little low with the bottom cut just a little too high. There was always a slight sway in the way she walked that was somewhere between alluring and predatory. It's like fishing for pike. First the prey sees the shiny lure and can't help but want to chase it. Then it strikes only to realize too late that the easy meal you thought that you were getting is actually going to kill you. Even the imposter couldn't take his eyes off of her, but he hid it well. He didn't look down, glancing at Mihaela like most men would. No, he kept distracting Jade, steering her attention exactly where he wanted it to go.

Jade didn't like Mihaela coming so close to her new friend and that was clear. She wasn't affected by Mihaela like any of the others. I wasn't sure if it was petty jealousy or some kind of internal voice that warned her of danger, but either way, the hair on her arms was rising. Mihaela didn't notice or care about Jade. Standing over the couple, she bent over and ran her fingers along the man's neck.

"I want some time alone with you," she whispered into his ear softly. That's all it took. He didn't even say a single word, but just looked at her with a lustful look and a little smile on his face. She never actually held his hand, but I could see him reaching out to her like he needed her. That was the allure she had on everybody that she met. Eagerly, he followed her like a puppy, never realizing that it was of her will and not his own. I waited until they slipped away through the crowd and vanished down a little hallway lost from view. I heard their footsteps growing more and more faint, followed by a low hissing sound as the hidden door opened. I waited a few minutes longer then decided I would follow.

Jade glared down the little hallway that lead to the tunnels. It was generally considered my salvation because it allowed me to travel from one location to another and sheltered me from the raging sunlight of the day. It was a way of connecting to the human world, but not today. Today the tunnel would be my torture chamber and Mihaela's feeding ground. Even now, I could hear his heart pounding faster and faster and Mihaela's squeals of excitement. I couldn't linger around though, because if I did the imposter would be a snack long before I had a chance to question him.

As I made my way to the dark little hallway with its hanging lamps shaped like medieval torches, I heard her giggle. It was something between a shriek and a cackle that bounced through the noise of the crowd. Turning, I saw her and it was like being struck by lightning twice in the same day. The same odds I thought. I had seen Murlin twice in the same week when we had lived in the same city for fifteen years and hadn't seen each other the whole time. Coincidences like this never happened, especially with immortals. No, I was sure that she had some kind of business. I watched her walk up to Jade's table and slip into the empty chair that had only been recently been vacated. Send her away,I thought but Jade seemed happy to see her.

"I met this cute guy and he just left me for this other woman," she whined. Dropping her head, she whimpered, "He was kind of cute and things were going really well..."

Murlin ran her fingers along her arm and whispered, 'It's ok dear. There will be cases where stupidity interferes with our life plans, but you will find what you are looking for eventually."

"No, Aunt Murlin I don't think I will. I think I will end up like your friend. You know the one that wrote that book. You know, Ronald? The one that loved one woman so much it burnt out his heart and destroyed him." She held up and made this exploding sound as she opened her hand.

Laughing, Murlin said, "Come on, stop acting like a lovesick child. This guy spent a single heartbeat being in your life and you have many other heartbeats." There was a loud accent on the word Renaud as she responded, "My friend Renaud was a true romantic. True romantics can be quite stupid."

Jade seemed confused as she questioned, "Stupid? How can love be stupid?" It was quite amazing to witness Jade's innocence. She was staring up at Murlin with this dumbfounded look in her eyes. The idea of unconditional love that knew no bounds lived only in the hearts of the young. It seemed strange to hear a creature who couldn't feel love set about to explain it.

Murlin took a sip of Jade's drink and her face curled up like she was sucking on a lemon. "What the hell are you drinking, child?" she exclaimed.

Laughing, Jade said, "It's called an Aunt Roberta."

"What's in it?"

"I am afraid to ask. All I know is that the bartender limits me to one and most other people two. "I made a metal note that I was going to have to hurt that damn bartender. He wasn't just serving the strongest drinks in the place to kids, but to the one kid in the world I was sworn to protect. I looked over and made a mental note of the man. Tall and pale with a square face. He looked more like a serial killer than anything else and I was going to convince him that there were some laws you just can't break.

"Now explain to me how being in love is stupid," Jade probed.

Pointing a finger, Murlin responded. "I didn't say love was stupid, I said Renaud's story was stupid. The 'I can only love one person' type of love."

Yes, Renaud might have been a truly noble figure, but he was dumb as hell. He wasted what little life he had chasing a woman he thought was his soulmate when all it took was a few well-placed lies and a little charm to bed her. The most stupid part was even after all of that, when the dust settled, he found a way to blame himself and pined for her love. Yes, my brother was a dumb ass.

Still sipping on Jade's drink, she continued, "Love is a mental emotion. We see what we want to see and Renaud wanted love, so he gave everything. Can you image living your life around one person's wants year after year when they are so blind to your love that they can't see your needs and desires?" Her neck twitched as she spoke and the veins rose and fell like a hose passing water through it.

"Vampires are real, you know. Everybody inside this place wishes that they were a vampire, yet they exist just outside the door if you know how to look." What the hell was Murlin doing? Sharing our existence would not end well for my kind or even worse, she could get the poor child killed. "Emotional vampires exist, Jade. That's what made Renaud stupid. Unconditional love isn't healthy, it's setting yourself up for heartbreak. An emotional vampire named Harrow stepped in and seduced the love of his life away from him, and that's what killed him. He couldn't see past the betrayal and that's what lead to his downfall. So yes, love is stupid and you will find many suitors. Just don't settle for unconditional love."

"So skip the fairytale and look for Mr. Dependable like my mother did?" There was a hint of shame and disgust in the way she said it. Obviously she didn't know the whole story, but she was well aware that her mother was a high class whore.

Smiling, Murlin said, "No, just don't be prey in the game of love. Be the predator. Your mother is still prey, she just never realized it."

A loud banging noise from the tunnels caught my attention and the panic set in. Mihaela was so impulsive that I had to rush down there or else I would lose my chance to learn what was happening. I sprinted down the little hall and slid into the tunnel when I saw figures lurking in the shadows.

"Let's just kill the bitch," one of them said. That might be the greatest mistake of his life, I thought.

chapter THIRTEEN

Renaud

I didn't know how I was supposed to react. Mike was certain that Jenny just wanted attention. When her whore pic didn't get the response she wanted she upped the ante, he said. It seemed to me that she was always searching for attention and not always in a good way. I couldn't remember the specifics, but I did remember the feeling of being lost. The feeling of loneliness that came every time she didn't get her own way. The problem was, I couldn't remember if it was part of a memory or a sensation brought on by all the energy that comes with escaping to the real world.

"If you don't want to go up I understand," Mike said as he tried to call her again. His words might say the opposite, but his actions said differently He kept glancing at his phone like it was a living, breathing thing and that Jenny would answer him at any minute. "We'll be there in about ten minutes. It's close to the river and the casino, but I don't think Wilson will be happy that we came."

"Why does Wilson hate me so much?" I asked. For so long I had hated the idea of him, but I knew why. He took something from me. Well, I thought he did. Lately though, it seemed to me that Jenny was never really mine. I had touched her body, loved her, and even immortalized her, but her heart had a price tag. I wondered just how much love cost. If rumor was correct, my book was very successful but it wasn't near enough to buy what I truly craved back then. Love.

Mike just laughed. "Well when you got your first royalty check, which was a damn huge one, I must say you played with the idea of hiring a hitman. Lucky for you, wanting one and finding one aren't the same thing." Still chuckling, he continued. "Then there was ruining his career."

"How did I ruin his career?" I blurted out.

"You don't remember?" Mike asked, looking shocked. "Well, let me see. He was working at a financial brokerage and was considered to have a great future. Then you Mr.Barthélémy, became an instant millionaire. That's when the asshole part of your personality came out."

"Strange how I never thought of myself as an asshole, but then again, I guess most people don't and that's what makes them assholes to start with. Exactly what did I do to earn this title?"

"Not just the title, but the whole damn crown my friend. You truly don't remember?" He had this childlike look in his eyes like he had a secret and if he didn't get it out soon he'd explode.

"No I can't, but seems like you're dying to tell me."

Almost giggling, he turned the corner and I could see the casino standing out above the rest of the buildings, looking majestic. If I still believed in heaven I might have actually thought it lead all the way up there.

"Yes, I guess telling you how big an asshole you are does bring me some joy."

"Too much if you ask me. Being a bible thumper and all, I expected more from you."

He drove his fist into my arm with enough force to cause a tingling sensation.

"Screw you, asshole. I have known you longer than anybody else and I know the good and bad parts of you. I am probably the only man in the world that can see past the bad parts." It was shocking to realize that he knew my bad parts. The irony was more than I could handle. We were total opposites. He was a man of God and I was a creature bent and shaped in Hell. I wonder if he had any idea that I wasn't just touched by evil, but that I had bathed in it and tasted it. "Do you want to know how you earned the crown or not?"

"Of course. After all, you know me best."

"Ok, now as I said Mr. Wilson Bailey was a pretty successful investment advisor. The go-to guy if you wanted to see your money grow like a fat guy at a chocolate factory. That's not being insulting because I am a fat guy and let's face it, guys like me love chocolate." It occurred to me that Mike was the kind of person that always had to justify everything, like speaking his own thoughts was a sin. People can be like that. They constantly need to justify what they say or do simply because somewhere deep inside they don't feel worthy. It made me wonder if I was like that. Was I such a pain in the ass that I justified everything even if there wasn't cause to? "Anyway, suddenly you become a somebody. I mean,you were getting fan mail left, right, and center. That was before email was big, so people actually took the time to mail pictures. You even had a whore folder."

"A what?"

Laughing he added, "If I remember correctly, it was a whole bunch of women with less than high morals sending you nudes and stating that they wanted to help inspire you."

"Oh and I assume you stole a few?"

Chuckling, he responded, "The whole damn box. I took no joy from them, but I was saving souls when I took them. Saving whoever might have found them from lustful sin."

Dumbass, was all I could think. "And I suppose you had to examine every one of them..."

"Of course, it's a priest thing. You wouldn't understand the sacrifices I make for those under my care." Smiling he continued, "Anyway, here you are with too much cash and you invest a whole buttload of it with his firm. Then they have some kind of fancy party and of course you are invited, being a rich prick and all." I was about to respond when he smirked, "Now here is where the asshole part comes in." You and Wilson have this love-hate thing going on. You both love Jenny and hate each other."

I couldn't remember a lot of details, but I remembered hating Wilson. All those nights spent with the image of his bloodied face beneath my fist. It was never the image of a drawn out, even fight just me beating Wilson like he had beaten my heart.

"Yeah, I guess we had a lover's triangle."

Slapping his hand against the steering wheel, Mike said "No, I would say it was more like a three-way dance-wrestling match. You and Wilson comparing sizes, never realizing that Jenny was hung bigger then both of you." Only Mike could make a violent sport sound so gay. "Now Wilson had no idea that you were such a big shot for his company. If he did, he might now have talked down to you in his stuffy 'I am so much better then you' manner." He burst out laughing, "Oh Hell, who am I trying to fool? He would have talked down to you regardless. Anyway, in the midst of the party you asked this high-up vice president sort how much money you have and he smiles and says three million dollars. Everybody looked so impressed, your momma would have been so proud of you. Then you decided to really earn the crown."

"A big one?"

"Giant. It had to fit around your big head, so yes it was big. So you ask this VP if they treat everybody that invests that much and plans to invest for with them this way. He snorts 'No Mr. Barthélémy, we treat every investor with great respect, not just those who invest millions. 'Well you get up and tell the dude that you can't invest money with a company that talks down to you. This was on a Friday night. The following Monday Wilson's desk was cleared out and all his possessions were in a cardboard box." Smiling he muttered, "See? A giant crown."

"And where did my crown go?"

"I think your cousin Irene gave it to William. If ever there was an asshole it's him. He is such an ass that when he talks he smells like an outhouse."

Finally, we arrived at one of those fancy high-rise apartment buildings. It had an extravagant foundation and wassurrounded by exotic-looking plants in the front, with giant windows scattered everywhere on the street level.

"Fancy," I remarked as I looked up at the Roman-themed building.

"You bet your ass it's fancy. Your brother made damn sure that Wilson made too much money. So much in fact, that he couldn't quit. It just wouldn't make economic sense."

I already knew my baby brother brought him into the company. It wasn't exactly a secret, but his motives still confused me. Even Murlin had no idea and I questioned her like I was part of the KGB.

"Why did he hire my enemy"

"I don't know. What I can tell you is that he told me he was doing it for you."

"For me?"

"Yep, for you. Maybe it was some kind of karma thing or maybe even a 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer' thing. Whatever his reason, he said that you would understand." There's no damn way I understood. That ass went and bought my girlfriend and my brother gives him a job. It's like I helped pay him for sleeping with my girlfriend.

We were headed towards the double-wide glass doors with a dull green finish when the unexpected happened. My true face reflecting back at me in the glass. Not just for my eyes, but for the world to see if they took the time to really look. A century of punishment and hellfire had taken its toll on me and my demons had left their mark. There was some kind of powerful magic inside these walls if it could wipe away Murlin's magic just by me standing outside the doors. Luckily, Mike was too preoccupied with texting to look up into the face of evil. If he did, Jenny wouldn't be his only concern. I just hoped that the magic didn't peel away my mask while we were inside.

"For Christ's sake Jenny, pick up," Mike muttered as he shook his phone.

"Relax Mike," was all I got out as a dark blue Lincoln came roaring out of the garage. I immediately jumped back, feeling the air being displaced around it as the car whipped by. Two giant men glared at me through the glass as they drove away, and there was a loud screech as the car came to a halt. All eyes were on me as if they were measuring me up. The rear lights flashed and the car slowly started backing up towards me. Mike was mumbling something, but I couldn't quite hear what he was saying, only that by his tone of voice it wasn't good. I stepped out and watched the car coming right for me. I wasn't brave or an idiot with some kind of hero syndrome, I was quite the opposite. One by one I scanned their faces, taking inventory of any scars, blemishes, and any other distinguishing features I could see. I thought that maybe they were ghosts from my past, but I couldn't recognize them. If they were from my past, they were just another missing piece of the puzzle. The car stopped and I could see them pointing and discussing something, but they always came back to me. It looked like they were staring at something and then pointing at me. Could it be fans or was it something else? I was not sure. Suddenly, the car tore out of the parking lot almost slamming into a little Ford as it vanished down Riverside Drive towards the Ambassador Bridge.

Mike looked lost as he stood there with his hands on his hips and trembled. It wasn't very hot considering the time of year, but little streams of sweat rolled off his forehead.

"Friends of yours?"

"No, I thought they were yours," he mumbled. He wasn't lying, he was just scared. Mike wasn't exactly a great storyteller, let alone a good liar.

"Maybe fans," I responded, still trying to figure out what the goons wanted with me. I don't think that Mike noticed, but the car passed by us a second time at a slower, more controlled pace.

"If your fans look like that, it explains why you only wrote one book. I personally like the old ones better. I don't want to imagine those guys in bikinis."

"Thanks, dumbass."

Mike looked confused, "What?"

"Now I have that image in my head and some other images you don't want in your head."

Mike broke into a crackling laugh, "Be thankful it's not me in a Speedo."

We both broke out laughing and made our way into the building. There was an awkward silence that followed. I am not sure if it was just the situation or if there something else that just lingered beneath the surface. The building was one of those high class places with square tiles that went up about a third the way up the way and had mirrors going up the rest. The ceiling had similar mirrored tile going all the way down the wide hall way and plastic plants scattered randomly throughout. It looked pretty high class with the exception of the ugly brown and beige carpet that seemed to go on forever.

"You know, this better not be one of Jenny's games," he mumbled as he pressed the elevator button. For such a fancy place it certainly had one of the slowest elevators ever. Finally, there was a chime and the doors opened. We entered the small elevator and it jerked slightly as it began to rise. When the doors finally opened I exited while Mike lingered as if searching the hallways for some unknown evil. He pointed to the door at the end of the hallway.

"That's their place," he said as he began marching towards it.

Mike knocked on the door, making a hollow tapping sound. The door popped open an inch or so and he peaked through, everything looking normal.

"Strange, they always keep the door locked."

"Maybe she expected us," I responded as I tried to peer through the crack. Quite the place, I thought. Shiny hardwood floors and small round marble tables on either side of the hallway. Further in I could see giant glass doors that lead to a balcony. It looked like Jenny had gotten everything she wanted and possibly more.

We slowly made our way into the penthouse like thieves sneaking in. Of course, Mike was too clumsy to ever make a good crook. He had already made quite the racket when he kicked over the bucket used to hold umbrellas that was behind the door. He grabbed one and held it like a sword as he slithered along the hallway pressing against the wall like he was expecting something evil to jump out from every corner.

"What are you expecting, Jack the Ripper?" I asked.

"No, but something tells me that there is something nasty happening here. "He was serious about it, but I still had to struggle not to laugh. The way he said nasty reminded me of a cheap porno. "I just think there's a problem here."

Mike walked into the living room then stopped dead in his tracks. He looked at me white-faced and said quietly, "I think we should call the cops."

Scanning the room, I couldn't see anything out of place. No broken vases, the artwork hanging on the walls was straight and it looked like nothing had ever happened. There wasn't even dirty foot prints on the floor.

"What's wrong?" I asked. It felt empty, but beyond that I didn't see anything out of place. Then I saw it. A little stream of blood flowing from the corner of the doorway. Pointing to it I asked, "Is that blood?"

"Yes," Mike said in an empty tone. "It's Wilson." He was pointing into a room that was just out of my view. Mike was pointing and staring at me with this blank look on his face, "If he is bloodied on the floor, where is Jenny?" He was scanning the place intently, but never moved from where he stood. "I don't see her anywhere."

I walked past him, glancing into the mid-sized office with an oak desk right in the middle. I expected to find furniture to be broken and thrown all over the place, with Wilson's lifeless body lying on the ground.If Wilson wanted to answer he didn't or couldn't. His face was covered in blotches of dried blood and his jaw was pushed to the left. His eyes were dull and hazed over already. I had been through a lot worse so I couldn't force myself to pity him. I know I probably should but I couldn't find it. I didn't hate him either. I just felt nothing. I could see death in his eyes. It was coming for him any minute now and then Wilson would be forgotten.

Mike knelt down and reached in through the doorway and snapped, "Who took her? Tell me, Wilson who took her?" It looked like he was going to kill him if he didn't answer fast enough. "What did you do to get her in trouble, Wilson? Tell me or God help me I will finish what they started." I took great joy out of seeing him covered in blood. Mike looked like he was going to kill him if he didn't answer.

I didn't care either way if he died or not as Wilson wasn't a friend, but my limited memories of Mike were all good. Too good to let him do anything that he might regret later. I grabbed hold of his arm, pulling him back. Mike was a lot stronger then he looked and I struggled to pull his hands from around Wilson's neck.

"Let go of him! Beating him further won't help Jenny. Leave him."

We went from room to room searching for Jenny. It didn't take very long as their house had big empty rooms and there weren't very many of them. It was a prime example of what my mother called "house poor." They had bought a big fancy house, yet they couldn't afford furniture. A few nice pieces of quality furniture stood in the empty rooms, but if one took the time to examine them they would see that they weren't new and proved that looking luxurious did not always mean that they were. We had checked the last room and Jenny was still nowhere to be found.

Mike looked at me with sadness in his eyes.

"She's gone."

I wasn't exactly sure what I was supposed to say. I wasn't sorry that she went missing. She was a shadow from the past and to me this was like stepping into the sunlight. Like a lot of nightmares in life, they only existed in the darkness.

"I know." I said.

Mike ran to the office door and called out, "Wilson, where is she? Where is Jenny?" There was no response which seemed to infuriate Mike even more. Looking at me he cried, "Renaud, he's going to die isn't he?"

The smell of death was growing stronger. There was a unique smell that floated around a person when they died. To most it was the stench of fire and brimstone, yet to the dying and those of us who were already dead it smelt sweet. Not like a flower though. It was more like freshly-baked strawberry pie from my Aunt Mable's house when I was a child. I missed her pie throughout my time since her passing. It was strange how I couldn't remember her face or her laugh, yet I never forgot the taste of her pie.

"Yes, he is dying."

"If he dies we will never know who took Jenny." Mike was truly concerned about her and her well-being. He looked almost lovesick as he stared at Wilson. Yelling, Mike kept trying to interrogate him.

"Where is she, you bastard?"

I thought that he was going to start pounding on him with his fists.

"Where is Jenny? Tell me or I will make sure you find your way to Hell." Mike was getting more and more agitated and it occurred to me that there was much more to it. Finally, he stepped away throwing his arms up in frustration.

Grabbing his phone as he walked away I could hear him say "I need an ambulance sent to..." His voice faded as he walked around the corner.

I stepped closer to Wilson and stared into his dull empty eyes, watching the life drain from him. I couldn't see any reason to save him. He wasn't a good man. Always sneaking around, desperate to either own, control or destroy everything around him. I wanted to let him die. Even Jenny's life had little meaning to me, but Mike mattered. He was a good man and he cared. Mike cared a lot and part of me was certain that he loved her. That's why he stayed when the rest of us left her. I knelt down and placed my hand on the side of his head. He felt warm to the touch and I could feel his life fading.

I laughed as I whispered, "Karma is a bitch, isn't it Wilson? You will slowly die here today and Jenny will get what's coming for her." Wilson eyes begged me to save him, but he was pleading with the wrong man.

This image of Mike kept coming to mind, though. The genuine concern and heartbreak that filled his eyes as he questioned Wilson and couldn't get a response. It was one of those times when I actually wished Mike had wronged me. It would be so much easier to enjoy this than to look past his pain. To ignore his heart's agony over the loss.

I watched as the light inside him began to fade a little faster and reached out, pressing my hand against his forehead. I knew that I would regret this choice and its consequences before I even did it. Taking a deep breath, I gathered my thoughts and prepared to taste evil.

I whispered, "Contra te mihi morte dolores Potum ista communis deorum nector animam tuam in nocte onera portare me ex Deo natus est Et animam meam portoin sordibus te merui , in hac vita"

The spell started to take affect and the color started to return to his face. I could feel the burning fire of his sins being absorbed by my soul. It was the price that I would need to pay to see what his eyes had seen. Image after image slipped from his mind to mine as I tried to find the exact moment I was looking for. Memories don't get filed in any kind of canonical order. They aren't sorted by a date or by an event but are put together in order based on the importance as the person sees it at the time. Shifting through his memories I saw business deals, golfing trips, various moments with Jenny, and then a child's face. That memory stuck out and the smile shined. I watched the child grow to become a woman and then a thought came to mind. She was one of my unfinished affairs here. He called her Jade. That was her name and I had to remember it. Jade. An image of Jenny screaming and being dragged by the office flashed into my mind. Wilson was reaching out,pleading "King, don't take her! I can fix this."

A voice behind me cried out, "Oh my god, you're killing him!"

chapter FOURTEEN

Harrow

As I waited I ordered another scotch. I had to appear human and this was as close to human as I could get, considering where I was. The waitress was always quick to bring me my drinks and my glass never went empty here. I could easily spend three hours sitting here, downing drinks and watching the living waste their lives. Early in my transformation I would frequent bars to find food, but thanks to the internet I could pop online and order like it was takeout. As I sipped my drink I scanned the bar, with its oak panelling on the walls and the chip-marks along the bar. You can still see the marks along the bottom where there was once a brass plated bar for people to rest their feet on. Lousy idea, though. The patrons of this place were mostly overweight construction workers and retired vets, so in the first month they had made it look like the remains of a five-car pileup. I still liked the place, though. It was an uneventful environment for old drunks like me. Well, if I could still get drunk. Now I just played the part.

Maude came by, dropping another drink on table as she passed.

"It's been too long since you spent any time here," she said. She was in her late 50's and always turned away when she passed to give me a look at her finely shaped ass. I have known her for ten years now and while abusive boyfriends along with time had stolen her youthful complexion, it had no effect on her back end. It still looked so firm that I could bounce a quarter off of it. We used to try that in her youth but, like most things, those days are long gone.

"No, I am here to meet an old friend tonight," I responded.

With a sour face she raised an eyebrow and snorted, "A lady friend?" I could see the resentment in her gaze. For too long now she had hinted, then offered and finally, almost begged to be the next Mrs. Barthélémy, but that ship had sailed and sank too many times now. For me, love and marriage was the equivalent to booking a cruise on the Titanic. Doomed to sink with little hope of survival. As I took another swig I heard a loud, horrible roar followed by an earth-shaking chugging sound. Damn bikers, I thought. It did not happen often, but from time to time they did stray in. They never stayed around as the bar was so uneventful and there were no young hotties here to harass.

"He may seem a little girly, but that is because he is a priest. Or at least he was one," I responded as I tapped the hard table top.

"Oh Harrow, if your friend is trying to save your soul he will need a lifetime to do it and an Angel on his shoulder." Maude responded with a loud toothless laugh. She may not have had the prettiest smile, with only two or three nicotine stained teeth left and so many faint wrinkles that her face looked like a plowed field when she smiled, but her laughter was always genuine. She looked back with a wink and snorted, "I cannot imagine that you have ever been in a church, let alone know a priest."

As I slapped the table I continued, "Know him. I grew up with him and for all I know, the devil in me is the reason that he went into the church and stayed."

A loud voice bellowed, "I had to in order to try and save that tattered soul and cold heart of yours." As I looked up, there was Mike but I could see by the way he tried to hide his face that he was just playing a part, trying to blend in. It still amazed me to see Mike in faded black jeans with a wrinkled black shirt that had seen many days' worth of wear by the looks of it and a long scratched-up leather jacket that went down to his knees. His eyes seemed cold and his whole face looked too worn. I am sure if a strong wind hit him that he would fall on his ass. I had seen that look before when I was in the Persian Gulf War. Officially, Canada was there doing peace keeping only but unofficially, a select few of us were deep in the thick of it. It's there that I learned what I was made of. We barely slept, and when we did, it wasn't restfully sleep as there was no way to stop our minds from wandering. A person couldn't do the things we did or see the things we saw and not be affected by it. If I didn't know any better, I would swear that Mike had just returned from a war.

As Mike sat down he whispered, "I thought we had an arrangement?"

Our only contact had been through texts, so I was still a little surprised at how much time had changed him. He wasn't the mild-mannered kid that I grew up with anymore.

"You look used up, Mike."

"I am used up. Do you know how I spent my morning, Harrow?" There was something in the way he glared at me that told me I wouldn't like the answer so I just took another sip of my scotch, wishing it was warm fresh blood. I could hear the blood as it flowed through his veins. It was as powerful as the smell of fresh bread when you are hungry and walking past a bakery. "Do you have any idea what I have done this morning? What kind of problems you have caused and not just in my life, but Jenny's as well?"

"How could I have added that much stress to your life?" I hadn't seen Mike in so long and we didn't cross paths, so I couldn't understand how I could be causing issues in his life. I made it a point to try and keep my old life separate from the new one. Even now, seeing Mike was a sad reminder of what I traded to escape my destiny. No, destiny wasn't the proper word. My curse.

"Jenny is missing and Wilson is in the hospital."

"What makes you think that I had anything to do with that? I stay in the shadows, Mike. I don't get involved in the world that you belong to." Mike didn't believe me. I could see it in his eyes. "I promised Nathanial that I wouldn't touch a single hair on Wilson's wrinkled head. I keep my promises."

Slamming his hand onto the table he snapped, "Don't give me that oath bullshit, Harrow! Everything you do or have ever done has some hidden benefit for you."

"What exactly do you think I did that will screw everyone but me? I didn't touch Wilson nor did I do anything to Jenny."

"You took the information I slipped you and used it not to save Jenny, but to push her into harm's way."

"You asked me to protect Jenny and Jade and that's exactly what I did." I had made a calculated move to protect them both. Today's events were a solid indication that even the most thought out plan can and will go astray. I wanted to save Jenny, but Jade was the one that counted. The only one I needed to save."What happened, exactly?" How could I defend myself if I didn't know the crime that I was accused of?

"Don't treat me like an idiot, Harrow. For the past six months I have been spoon-feeding you tidbits of Wilson and William's plans and you were supposed to protect them. I see now that you still only care about your interests." Taking a sip of his beer he leaned forward and clasped his hands together, "I don't want to be forced to take drastic actions that might get messy."

"Mike, you and I both know that you have no power over me any more then I have trying stop the sun from shining or jump back in time and erase my regrets." Mike was upset and I didn't want to add his name to my list, but he was overstepping his bounds and certainly jumping into a dangerous place. "You don't want to make me an enemy Mike. I can be a worthy ally, but you don't want me as an enemy. My enemies don't live all that long."

Mike tossed a silver cross on to the table and it burnt my eyes immediately. It was like stepping out of darkness and into the sunlight. "Blinding" was the only way I could describe it. Legend said that pure faith and a cross could repel my kind, but those legends weren't terribly accurate. It was annoying as hell, but it wasn't fatal. Grabbing hold of the cross, I felt it sear and smelt my flesh as it burnt. Taking a deep breath, I refused to give into the pain. Mike needed to learn a lesson here as I didn't want to be forced to kill to him. He wouldn't survive the change or be welcomed into my world. No, it was best for him to be humbled now rather then be torn from everything he knew.

Mike stared at the display and he truly understood for the first time what I was. He had heard the stories and excepted that I was no longer the man he knew or the boy he grew up with. Nathaniel had always protected him from me. Nathaniel didn't fear my kind, but he wasn't exactly welcoming either. He was a wall between us, but my brother wasn't here to stand in the way anymore.

"I don't have any enemies, Harrow so I don't know a lot about wiping them off the face of the earth, but if Jenny gets hurt because of something you have set in motion I will learn my lessons faster then even you can imagine."

The savage part of me wanted to reach over and tear out his throat. It was an instinct that I was always struggling to control and sometimes I lost the battle. I forced my hands onto the tabletop and reminded myself who Mike was. I forced the images of a wasted youth shared with him and the bonds that once existed between us.

"Listen, Mike. I am not your enemy. If I caused any issues for Jenny or Wilson it wasn't my design. However, Wilson getting a beating isn't something I will apologize for. Truth be told, if my brother hadn't sworn me out of their lives I would happily be the eternal thorn in his side."

"That's not a secret, Harrow. I don't like Wilson any more then you do, but this isn't about Wilson. If the gangsters don't kill him, Renaud eventually will. This is about the gangsters getting caught speeding out of their house like they just robbed a liquor store and the cops are right behind them then Jenny goes missing."

"Jenny's missing?" I asked, registering it for the first time. "The King took her after I asked him politely not to touch her" I reached in closer, "What about the child, Jade?"

Still sipping his beer, Mike looked even more concerned as he responded.

"She is safe, but there is another complication. A big complication."

"I imagine her mother going missing is stressful for her."

"Yes, but that isn't the complication. She came into the house when Renaud was doing whatever it is that he does. I didn't see it exactly, but what I do know is that one minute Wilson was broken in two and then the next he is still looking beaten, but not on death's bed."

"Renaud knows about the child? Does he know who she is?" This wasn't something I was prepared for yet. I was well aware that I would be forced to face my brother. That lines were drawn the day he died and I knew that there was the possibility Jade was going to be our chess piece. That to save her I might have to kill her, but I didn't expect it to start this early. Fighting two wars was something I didn't expect to face. "What do you mean Wilson was on death's bed one minute and yanked back the next?"

Mike seemed to calm as he signalled Maude for another beer, "Like I said, I saw Wilson bloodied and looking like he was being dragged down to the pits of hell. I walked away to call 911 and when I came back he looked rough, but not dying."

"And Renaud. How did he look?" I was well aware that I lost control and looked too eager, but it was too much information to absorb at once. "Did he look like he was angry or upset?"

Mike tapped his fingers as he seemed to be considering his answer. "I don't know how to answer this exactly. One minute it was like he couldn't care less if he lived or died. Actually, I don't think he even cared what might happen to Jenny, but then I come back and he had his hand on Wilson's forehead." "Ok, but did he looked angry or stressed?"

"He looked exhausted. It was almost like every bit of life that had returned to Wilson was stolen from Renaud."

I always knew that he had power. Murlin had chosen him over me, which was unheard of amongst her kind. They were drawn to the strongest like a bee to honey, yet she overlooked the most powerful warlock and went for the other one. I had thought that when he returned he would do like I did when Mihaela turned me. That his soul would be drained of goodness and his powers be stolen too. "So does he know who Jade really is?"

"No, I don't think so. He did look troubled though. He looked like he had gotten answers to questions that he truly didn't want answered." It looked like he knew more then he was saying, which was uncharacteristic for Mike. Mike was like an open book with all the important sections were highlighted.

"I will fix the problem with the King and get Jenny back. This might not be part of my plan, but I will deal with this unexpected little series of events."

"Don't let it take too long, Harrow. I don't know what exactly you are afraid of or why you and Nathaniel wanted to keep Jade's existence such a secret, but if Jade means so much to you, Jenny better come back unharmed."

"Mike, you don't want to do that and you don't want to threaten me. Save the souls of the living and leave my soul to hide in the shadows." I was seriously considering waiting for my old friend to step out one night and end this, but that would not work. Renaud would have questions and would hunt me. I couldn't let attachments interfere with protecting Jenny and Jade.

Mike stood up and fixed his jacket. He reached out, picking up the silver crucifix and stepping closer.

"Harrow, just do what you promised when I told you about Wilson's deal with the mob." He took the crucifix and dropped it around my neck, which was followed by a burning that went all the way down to the bone. I refused to let him see my pain, so I endured it. "You find Jenny and do as you promised or I will finish this."

Walking away, Mike looked over his shoulder and whispered, "Do as you promised Harrow and I will keep your secret. You owe me that and I owe you my silence. I don't want Jenny to be your next victim and you don't want Jade to become one." I watched him walk away and pass through the doors vanishing into the darkness. I hoped for his sake that I could save Jenny, because if I couldn't I was going to have to kill him and that idea was very unpleasant to me. I might be a monster, but I didn't take pleasure from killing the innocent that existed in this world. Mike was one of the innocent ones that still existed. The effects of my brother's presence were already touching his heart.

chapter FIFTEEN

Jenny

It sounded like I was in the middle of an explosion, with the sound of clanging metal attacking my senses from all directions. I could feel the world beneath me shaking so forcefully it felt like I woke up in the midst of an earthquake. I had always had a fear of being buried alive and my horror was coming true. I pounded on the walls around me until my hands bled, but I was trapped. I was trying to stop myself from crying out, refusing to give in to my fears but I couldn't stop myself. My fears were so much stronger then I was. I was used to letting Wilson think he had full control, but I always had the power to sway him into my way of thinking.

Every speed bump and pothole felt like I was being dropped and thrown back up again as we made our way to wherever we were going. I was certain by the time we got there I would be covered in so many bruises that I would look like a Dalmatian by the time the car stopped. The exhaust was leaking up through the trunk and my eyes burned and watered. I struggled to breath and threw up numerous times.

Banging on the trunk, I screamed "I am dying! Help me," but there was no Prince Charming to come to my rescue. There never was.

I must have blacked out because when I woke my wrists were burning and I could barely feel my fingers. My body trembled and goosebumps rippled down its entire length. I struggled to get free, but before I even started I knew that it was useless. I was strapped into what appeared to be a giant wooden chair. Each time I moved I could hear a wrinkling sound. I couldn't see a thing in the darkness and something in the air burned my nostrils and made it hard to breath.

"Where the hell am I?" I screamed and shook the chair even more.

I am not sure how long they left me there naked, wrapped in a thin plastic shower curtain and tied to a chair, but it felt like an eternity. There was a whooshing sound that was followed by a chucking noise. It just kept singing its haunting song over and over endlessly until I was sure I was half mad. I knew I was in a large empty room by the way it echoed and obviously some kind of industrial complex such as a factory because of the smell. I stopped twisting under my restraints as the burning was getting so strong that I just couldn't handle it anymore.

I could see shadows made by someone walking just beyond the door. It was their feet disrupting the light under the door that gave them away. I watched and waited, but they were just playing with me, using some kind of psychological intimidation. I had watched enough documentaries to know that they were just screwing with my mind. Kind of like the CIA or the KGB during the Cold War. The scariest part was that I had nothing to offer as far as information went and if I understood the conversation between Wilson and the thug, the only value I had was to be a sex toy. Through the fifteen years of marriage Wilson had treated me like one and I never felt cheap. It was part of our arrangement, but it was sealed by marriage so I saw it as part of life. This was something different, though. Being one man's sex toy I could handle and enjoy, but being traded to pay a debt was another story completely. Wilson had better be dead, because I was a vengeful bitch and he was going to feel it.

A blinding light filled the room as the door opened. It made a loud screeching sound and a slow series of footsteps followed. Spots filled my visions as I tried to see what was happening, but I couldn't. The footsteps grew louder and louder until I saw the outline of a massive figure approaching me.

"Are you going to claw and fight like a wild cougar if I untie you?" a slow, simple voice asked. "Because if you do, I am going to slap you and I don't want to. It's not the kind of thing a man likes to do." I nodded obediently, too scared to say anything. "I want to hear a yes," he demanded, but no matter how much I wanted to respond, my lips would move but nothing came out. "Ok, I guess you want to wait another six hours in the dark, then. Maybe you'll be a little more co-operative after that."

"No, I won't fight you! I won't, please just don't leave me here in the dark," I screamed. I know everyone tells themselves that they will be strong in such circumstances until it happens. Yes, that's when they all cave and submit like little bitches. I whined, "I promise I won't fight you, just don't hurt me or leave me here naked and tied up like this."

"Good girl," he said. It was a strange feeling for me to hear those words. For so long I would do almost anything Wilson commanded just to hear those words, but suddenly they sounded so dirty and cheap. I saw a flicker of silver and the click of a blade. "Now remember Miss, if you scream or fight I am going to have to hurt you. I don't like hurting woman, but if I gotta smack you I will smack you."

"I won't fight you," I said as I felt the ropes loosen with each cut. It felt strange that my hands were free and I could barely feel my fingers.

He dropped something onto my lap that felt smooth and silky to the touch. "Put these on. They might not be the fancy type that you are used to, but our girls never complain about them." Laughing, he added "And of course the men never complain about them, either." He stood there, watching me like he expected me to say or do something. "Well, come on now and get dressed."

"With you watching?" I didn't know what kind of women he called his girls, but I wasn't owned by them yet. Well, at least as far as I know. Either way, I didn't want to strip down naked in front of him.

"For Christ's sake princess, we are in a dark room. What exactly could I see?" He sounded frustrated and I could only assume that he was used to woman obeying him.

"Turn around. I don't want you to see me."

Even in the darkness I could see his hand preparing to swing. I closed my eyes and waited for his hand to connect. I hadn't actually ever been beaten before. I have been spanked with Wilson's bare hand, his belt, and even a ping pong paddle and each time it hurt for a while, but no man had ever beaten me. Not like I expected this guy could and probably would.

"Don't lay a finger on her. She is not to be touched." I opened my eyes and saw the silhouette of a smaller figure standing in the doorway. "She isn't to be touched. A woman just like her snapped my arm in two like it was kindling and as far as I can tell all we did was piss them off even more. If I have to choose fighting you or them, I am choosing you and you damn well know I bring guns to every fight."

The room that they brought me to was small with dark brown dingy walls and there was a lingering odor of fire that never went away. It smelt like the ashes from a campfire only much heavier and it never faded. It just floated around the room and stuck to me like sweat on a hot day. I sat on the little cot in the corner and watched the dust floating in the sunlight that fell from the little window. At least I knew that it was daytime, even though I had no idea what day it was or where I was. It reminded me of a prison cell. A six by eight cell with twelve foot ceilings and a window so small that even if you could manage to climb up there your head would barely fit through the opening. They left me alone in my prison for some time, my only company the muffled sound of the TV coming from the other side of the wall and the creaks made by the footsteps of my captors.

I overheard someone call the smaller one "Handsome Johnny" which seemed rather ironic considering he looked like his family tree went straight up and had no branches. He was the one that protected me from the other thugs, but I didn't know why. Maybe he saw something that he desired in me or maybe he had a whole set of mommy issues, either way he was the one that protected me from all the others. I would need to remember his face and make him feel like he stood out from the crowd because if I was going to escape, he was the one that would help me. Of course, I would still have to charm him. There was no real desire or lust in his eyes, or at least not in the way I was accustomed to. He'd look away or to the floor with fear in his eyes like a shy school boy and he always called me "lady."

From the other wall I could hear faint high-pitched girlish laughter and what sounded like a slumber party. Obviously, these girls weren't stolen from their bedrooms and dragged to God only knows where. I sat there staring around the empty room, trying to decide my next move. I was on my own now since I knew Wilson wouldn't come to my rescue, Mike had no idea how to, and I truly doubted that Renaud saw me as his damsel in distress.

A deep, muffled voice boomed through the wall just loud enough so I could understand what they were saying. Handsome Johnny said, "We don't do nothing to the woman until this Renaud character has been taken care of."

"Since when are you in charge?" A louder, more powerful voice overpowered everything.

"I don't claim to be in charge, but I'm not stupid and I don't have a death wish. This Renaud guy and his bitch I mean, that woman aren't normal people. " Johnny stomped when he paced around and his voice kept climbing and dropping like he was singing opera. "Let's just use her to get Wilson to move his ass and then we'll dump her back where we found her."

"We can't just dump her back where we found her. She heard us talking with Wilson and we didn't just beat him up Johnny, you pounded the hell out of him. You are lucky that you didn't kill him." The deeper voice bellowed even louder, "If we would have just left instead of grabbing her, life would have been a lot simpler."

"No, we have to end this and dump her body some place where nobody will ever find her. We can't leave a witness."

"I want nothing to do with this. You didn't see what saw. These people aren't normal. I don't know what they are, but they aren't normal. They are barely human. These demons can hurt a man and make him like it. That's not normal," Johnny exclaimed.

The louder man was obviously the leader. "Don't be a momma's boy Johnny. You might be my baby brother, but when you joined the other family it was a life sentence and the last time I heard, I call the shots."

"Did you see what this Renaud did to the crew we sent after him? He didn't just kill them, he tore them apart. That's not normal and he made it perfectly clear that anything happens to the wife or daughter he is going to stop playing nice." That little tidbit gave me hope. Renaud always was a bad boy and now I wondered just how bad he was. A man like him could pick up a lot of bad habits in a decade or two and obviously he had learned a lot. If he had already fought for me maybe there was still hope I might survive.

"I am not blind or stupid. You don't become the king of crime by being stupid. I underestimated him, but I won't make that mistake again. Get the girl so she can answer a few questions." It wasn't the questions that scared me, but the way they were going to ask them.

I waited in the dark room like a naughty little child waiting for daddy to come home to punish her, only this daddy wouldn't just spank my bare ass. No, this daddy bought and sold naughty girls as easily as a bible salesman sells religion and he carried a gun. The door burst open and massive figure snarled.

"The boss wants to talk to you. Remember, don't give me any lip and I won't have to hit you. Johnny's not going to be able to stop me this time."

chapter SIXTEEN

Mike

Essex County wasn't quite a stereotypical part of Canada. Most people's thoughts of Canada included deep snow with freezing wind that always came as a frigid slap to the face, but that wasn't not my city. My city had mild winters and hellish summers. It hot and humid to the point that the air felt so heavy I would struggle to breath even late at night. Everyone talks to God during their most desperate times, and I was no different. I prayed daily and when nobody was listening I would lay all the burdens that men shared with me to our Father. In all my years, I never asked him for anything for myself. It always seemed wrong to ask for things when there were so many other people who needed help more, but today I demanded his help. After all the years of devotion I asked for Jenny's safety. I felt like it was owed to me. After all those years of watching over her and then hating her now that she was gone, all I did was worry about her.

I was sitting in my little grey Honda that squeaked when I drove it and sputtered the rest of the time. I wanted to turn on the AC just to push away the heat, but I couldn't risk the loud shaking sound and squealsthat the fan belt made when it was running. Harrow would definitely hear it. If legend were true though, he'd be able to hear my heart beating in my chest and one look from him could darken my soul, but I needed to know for sure what Harrow knew. I guess I needed to justify to myself if he truly was the monster I thought he was or not. Part of me wanted desperately believe that there was some small part of him that was still human. A part that still felt love, guilt, and sorrow about Jenny going missing. That some part of him felt regret over his part in it, even if he denied it. To me, he betrayed my trust and the cost was so much more than I ever expected.

Harrow didn't leave by the front door like all the other patrons of the bar. No, he slipped out the side door just behind the dirty green garbage bin where the common folks wouldn't be able to see him. I wouldn't exactly say that he was hiding in the shadows, but he certainly was lurking in them. He was scanning the street and stood there like he was waiting for something, which made me even more nervous because anything that could scare him wouldn't have no trouble killing me. That's something the legends don't tell you. Vampire slayers are rare. There are those who might hunt them, but few live long enough to find one and even fewer get to kill one. Normally I'd be saying only a fool chases such a creature at night only armed with a dagger, cross, and a little bottle of holy water, but even if I hated what Jenny had become and thought she was selfish as hell, there was this little part of me that loved her. Maybe not romantic love and I knew she'd never love me back, but I still loved that teenage girl that I used to know.

He slipped out of the alley as quick as a cat then causally strolled down the street towards the riverfront like he didn't have a care in the world. I guess absolute evil doesn't have a care in the world because to actually care about something you have to fear losing it, and I just don't think he sees anything left that he'd miss if he lost it. He crossed the street and walked past me. I sank down into my seat, holding my breath like it would stop my heart from beating in my chest. I glanced through the window as he passed by me and there was a reflection in the storefront windows that he walked by. It occurred to me that he was a creature of the night who walked amongst the living and nobody ever noticed. He hid in plain sight like a crook living beside a police station. Too close to the enemy to actually be noticed.

Harrow wasn't even two blocks away when I heard a light clicking noise from behind me. I stayed low and peered through the driver-side mirror.

Glancing through the rear view mirror the front of the car that appeared was square and the creatures inside looked gigantic.

It looked like there were five of them, each carrying something dangerous in their hands that they kept close to their sides like they hiding them. If I didn't see them emptying their trunk I wouldn't have even known that they were armed at all. I couldn't be sure, but I thought Harrow noticed them too as he slowed his pace from a casual stroll to that of a turtle. He even stopped by a window to fix his hair. If these idiots had known what they were chasing, they wouldn't have been so eager to hunt him. I knew exactly what he was and I had God on my side and he scared the hell out of me.

"The boss says to bring him in alive, but he didn't say he had to be walking when we brought him," one of the overconfident asses said as they passed by.

Another chirped up, "No, he never said that he wanted him to walk in to be questioned, only that he wanted him to answer questions."

They didn't walk towards him, but marched like soldiers heading to war. Harrow was teasing them as he went from window to window, luring them to him. He stepped under the street lights, making sure he was in plain view. I couldn't say for sure, but I had always imagined him keeping to the shadows and trying to blend in. If my way of thinking was right, Little Red Riding Hood didn't fear the wolf, she was the wolf and I was about to see her fangs come out. Before vanishing into the alleyway, he stopped and looked back in our direction. His eyes glowed, which is something that no book I read had ever mentioned, but then again I guess there was a lot that the books never mentioned about his kind. He vanished around the corner and the idiots ran after him like wolves on the attack.

Stepping out of my car took too much courage and my legs trembled, making each step a struggle all its own. A few days ago my life had been quite boring and even my dreams were simplistic at best. Today I was doing the unthinkable and I didn't even understand why. I moved close to the buildings on the side of the street closest to the alley. It seemed like a reasonable choice since in the movies that what all the spies did. Of course, in the movies they were always good looking guys who could pop into a doorway and vanish into the shadows, not an overweight middle-aged priest who's middle stuck out just a little too far. As I made my way, I heard the rattle of garbage cans and other metal items being tossed around, but no loud screams. I expected loud screams and pleading, but there weren't any. If I didn't know better, I would have sworn that it was just a regular Sunday night.

I made my way to the corner, but I was too afraid to look. It surprised me that I wasn't afraid of my neck, but what I might see. It occurred to me that the sailors from the other night might just victims of one of Harrow's bad moods. He had quite the temper when he was merely human and now that he was something darker who knows what he could do? What he would do? I heard a loud cracking noise and a muffled sound that I assumed was a man trying to scream without a voice box. I gripped my crucifix so tight my hand burned and I held my dagger in the other hand, still uncertain that I could force myself around the corner. I tried to think of a suitable prayer for such an event and all I could think of was the Lord's Prayer.

I was preparing to pop around the corner when such a strange site caught my attention. A Jeep sat parked beside me and a scruffy looking cat had its paws dangling over the edge of the hood, staring into the alley like it was taking inventory. Such a stupid thing to notice, but it stood out since it seemed like that same scruffy-looking black cat was stalking me. I always imagined my stalker as a poor little young catholic girl looking for guidance from an experience man like me. Oh, who was I fooling? I never imagined myself as the type that would have a stalker and even if I did it certainly would be a scruffy old cat.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to turn the corner, not sure what to expect. Holding my dagger awkwardly out in front of me I stepped towards him. Bodies were scattered all over the ground and streams of blood flowed like rivers in every direction. Harrow held a man in the air, shaking him like a toy.

Even in this dim light I could see that he had a firm grip around the man's neck as he yelled, "Where did you take the woman?" The only thing stronger then the smell of blood was the odor of urine. "Tell me now or I will tear your limbs off one by one until you beg me to finish you."

The man looked like a mountain compared to Harrow, yet his body still dangled like string as he was shaken violently.

"I don't know where they took her! I am just a soldier. A hired thug. The boss doesn't tell me anything. I was told if we brought the famous Renaud Barthélémy to him that he'd pay us ten thousand dollars. That's all I know!"

With his free hand Harrow grabbed a hold of the man's shoulder while the poor bastard screamed in agony as the bones in his shoulder began to break. The sound reminded me of fresh popcorn popping over a campfire. The man's screams had no effect on Harrow, but it broke my heart.

"There are very many bones in the human body. 206 to be exact. How long do you think it would take for me to break them?" Switching hands, he grabbed onto the man's other shoulder and his eyes popped open as he started to scream, "How long do you think it would take me to break them all? One hour? Two hours?"

"I don't where she is," the poor man whined as the bones in his shoulder snapped one by one. Harrow didn't show any emotion. Not love, happiness, or rage. He just calmly kept adding pressure and torturing the man more and more. "I swear that I don't know where they have her! I never even heard of any woman until now!"

"That's a shame, as you are the only one left standing and I really need to be sure you aren't lying. I made a promise and well, for lack of a better term, you must pay the price." I heard even more bones breaking and blood starting seeping from his arm. He was in so much pain and Harrow just kept moving from bone to bone. If the man had the answer he wouldn't give it up, yet I truly doubt that he actually knew anything.

Harrow was relentless as he shook the poor man wildly until he appeared to be nothing less than a life-sized straw doll. Each time he shook him there was a louder cracking noise, but the man was already unconscious. Harrow was immune to it and kept shaking him. Finally, he tossed him back driving his head into the wall and sending blood splattering sickeningly. I watched his lifeless body tumble to the ground and remain there limp.

Harrow looked around pointing from body to body, "Now let me see. Who amongst these rats looks like he might be loyal and trustworthy? Which little bird will sing for me now?" He was pointing from body to body like it was a game. Finally, he smiled and reached down saying, "Yes, this is the one."

As Harrow was snatching up the next victim the man woke up and screamed before the torture had even started. I heard him begging for his life and knew that I couldn't stand by and watch another man go through this once more. I didn't have any idea how I was supposed to stop him, only that he was trapped here in the alley. My humanity made it impossible for me to walk away or just stand by and witness this for a second time.

Sweat was flowing from my all over my body and I was so tense that I was sure that my muscles were going to burst.

"Stop it now Harrow. I can't let you kill these men,"

Harrow just laughed as dropped the crying man on the ground. "I am giving you exactly what you asked for."

I held the dagger out and watched it jitter in my trembling hand. Steady your nerves, I thought as I tried to keep the dagger from slipping from my hands.

"I never asked for this."

Walking towards me he waved a single finger in the air. "Oh, but you did Mike. The minute you threatened Jade you forced this. You forced my hand Mike."

"Don't blame me for your actions. I didn't say to kill innocent men."

"Do you think that these men are innocent? That they followed me here just to talk."

I knew that these men were all pretty criminals. I just didn't think that they deserved to be tortured and killed because of it. "I know that these men aren't saints, but what you are doing is inhuman."

"I know, I haven't been human for a long time now. I am doing what must be done to save Jade."

"They have Jenny, not Jade."

Harrow was walking towards me like he had nothing to lose. I didn't think that he had a lot to lose to begin with. Not from me at least, but I couldn't walk away.

"Mike go home. Let the monsters play and let me save Jenny."

"I can't let you kill them Harrow." I know that it sounded like I was begging and maybe I was. All I truly knew was that this wasn't right and if I just walked away I would never be able to look at myself in the mirror again. Holding the dagger out, I repeated myself. "You can't kill them."

He looked around him like he was measuring them one by one.

"Mike I don't kill the innocent. I don't kill anybody who has a chance to fix their future, but none of these guys have a future. I didn't search them out, they came for me." Searching the alleyway, he pointed towards a giant garbage bin that was completely surrounded by trash. I could hear the plastic crumpling and despite not seeing what was lurking beneath the mountain of trash, I knew they were there. "These 'men' as you call them are no better than those rats. We kill rats because they spread disease. We never have a second thought about it, but these men are just as bad and yet you call me a monster. They are rats, Mike. Plain and simple they are rats, only fear and misery are the disease that they spread."

I was slowly making my way towards him. Maybe he was distracted or looking back at the man he used to be, but his guard was down and my time to strike was close. "So you really think this is the only way? That torturing these guys will send a message?"

"I take no joy in this. A few will be crippled, but most will live and my message will be understood." He almost seemed genuine as he spoke. His eyes were soft and sadness seemed to fill them like frost covers a window on a cold day. Not his usual condescending tone that made you feel like you were inferior not because you were human, but because you still felt emotions.

I needed to keep him distracted long enough to strike. I am no hero or hunter by any means, but Harrow couldn't be allowed to kill so many people.

"You are leaving a collection of dead bodies." The image of all those sailors was still fresh in my mind. It didn't occur to me at the time, but now it occurred to me that Harrow was the only one who could have killed so many so easily. The blood was still on his hands and if I just walked away it would be on mine too. "Were those sailors rats as well?" I snapped, still holding my dagger between us.

Smiling, he responded. "Yes, I am sure that they were rats. Every last one of them, but I didn't kill them." Leaning against the wall he added, "A much more dangerous monster than me that did that sin. There may be a lot of blood on my hands, but that sin isn't mine."

He was closer then I would have liked, yet I needed to drive my dagger into his heart. The legends said a wooden stake, but I had read a blessed holy object could kill the darkness inside the monster and my dagger had been blessed by a pope during the crusades. Harrow was too busy trying to convince me that he wasn't the ultimate monster, but a victim.

"They think that you're Renaud. What happens when they find him?" he asked as I lowered my dagger and stepped closer. "Do you think he will be able to stop these guys so easily?"

His claws came out and came flying straight at me. Something told me that he was a second away from tearing out my throat. He certainly had the strength of body and cruelty to do it and I was absolutely powerless to stop him. Five thugs who made their living fighting other monsters failed to do it, so how could one man compare. His hand was coming straight for me and the panic set in. My chest tightened and my breathing sounded more like a wheezy St. Bernard then anything human. I was a stupid little old man who should be at home cowering under my blankets, not facing this thing in the middle of the night.

"Listen, Mike. Renaud might look the man you knew, but he's not." As the words left his lips I realized that he wasn't going for my throat, but my shoulder. It was too late though. My dagger was already shooting upward with all the force my shaking hands could muster.

His eyes grew brighter as the blade dug its way into his chest and the vibrations from his body trembling raced along the blade, straight to my hand. He stepped back and his hands jerked. Despite wanting to tear it out of his body, I hadn't the strength to do it. Each step he took pulled me with him as if I was a puppet and he controlled the strings. Even in the dim light I could see blood starting to flow from his eyes.

The whole time he kept muttering, "I wouldn't have hurt you, Mike. I was trying to protect you from the battle that Renaud is bringing." His legs were shaking as he stumbled against the wall, and the smoke from his chest was floating upward in little spirals. "I wasn't going to kill you or harm you, old friend."

"Shit!"

A voice echoed from behind us that was followed by a slight click. Harrow's eyes widened and he grabbed me, yanking me closer almost crying out in pain as the blade dug its way deeper into his chest. His whole body burned hot against mine and no matter how hard I struggled, I couldn't pull away. Twisting me around and driving me into the hard brick wall my head was pounding as it connected. I felt dizzy and lightheaded and felt my head drop onto his shoulder. What little strength I had was sucked away, leaving me absolutely vulnerable. Three loud bangs followed and each time Harrow's body drove into me, taking away my breath each time. He dropped me onto the hard ground and through my dreary eyes I saw the silhouette of a man holding a gun. My eyes felt so heavy, but I heard a wild roar followed by a haunting scream.

I couldn't be sure, but I thought I heard something about the cat. I heard his hollow footsteps pounding on the pavement as he chased after him. The last thing I remember was Harrow cursing and saying, "Now he will know."

chapter SEVENTEEN

Renaud

Drouillard Road wasn't exactly barren, but it sure seemed that way as I made my way down the street. The city was affectionately called the Earth's Rectum and if that was the case Drouillard Road was the shit stain, but I had always liked it here. Mind you, my memory of the place was long before the city had been hit by hard times. Hell, I don't even think Detroit was considered the crime capital of America back then. Those days, a lot like my own innocence, were long gone and never to be recovered. I was headed towards Baby's Hideaway, which wasn't exactly the classiest bar but unless things had changed drastically since I had left it was still the place where the less than savory types hung out. That's where I would find the ones who almost ran me over at Jenny's place and hopefully that would lead straight to Jenny.

I found the Lincoln parked right across from the bar. Not a lot had changed since I was here last. The old place still towered over the surrounding buildings. Not that it was a giant place, an old two story with a square front and an arched doorway. It had that old-time corner store feel to it with giant windows that popped out and surrounded the door. As far as I could remember, it had always been a crappy bar that attracted bikers, criminals, and two-bit whores. The building looked worn, that was for sure. Even from this angle I could see the smooth, weathered bricks that desperately needed mortar and possibly few coats of paint since giant patches had begun to peel off.

Surprisingly, even here in what some called a shantytown, somebody always found the inspiration to add beauty to a place like this. The side of the brick building had a portrait surrounded by a giant white circle. It was the image of a 1934 V8 Ford like you'd expect old time gangsters to drive. The details were so clear that even though there were bullet holes etched into what appeared to broken glass and guns firing from the windows with blood splattered everywhere, in my eyes it was still a work of art. It seemed to me that this mural was a bittersweet tattoo on the face of the city. Such skill went into its construction and yet it was still a true representation of what happened to the city. I loved it, though. It felt real and true even if I missed the events that lead to it.

The bar was locked up like Fort Knox, with bars on the windows and the doors sealed shut. I wasn't surprised since it was 4 AM and only the naughty ones stayed out all night, as my mother used to say. I always wanted to be a naughty boy, but never had the chance. At the time when most men get wild and crazy, I was courting Jenny. In a way, loving her had saved me from this life even if it essentially ended it too.

The Lincoln wasn't exactly an exotic sports car, but it was meant for power and speed. Oversized tires and a raised hood were the first indication. This car was meant to blend in to the general public until it was time to let it rip. Examining the car didn't provide any clues to where the car had been, only that this was one man's pride and joy.

I slipped around the side of the bar and made my way towards the back of the building through a trash-filled alley. Garbage was scattered all over the place and the horrible stench of fresh vomit was everywhere. This wasn't anything special though. You can find a hundred alleys like this in any city. What was truly special, or at least what used to be, was hidden in the basement at the back. I turned the corner and saw two giant tattooed men standing on either side of the door with their hands crossed, glancing from side to side like they expected the devil himself to jump out at any minute. It was easy to see that both men were once powerhouses with rippling abs and mountain sized arms, but time had stolen that away. They were still giants, but where muscles once bulged only loose skin dangled. Even their tattoos looked like ink spots rather than terrifying skulls or whatever that might have once been. The thing that really stood out was the "1%" forever etched in their necks. A few years from now when their bones turned to dust, they would regret that one percent. Everybody did when they had to face their demons. The one percenters the most, though.

"This is a private party. Invitation only," growled the larger one as he flipped his long, lanky grey hair back and looked me over.

"I am not looking to join the party, I'm just looking for somebody," I replied as I pulled a small stack of twenties out of my pocket. Money always had the effect of opening doors and loosening lips, in my experience.

"If you are looking for whores we don't have any here," he said quietly, staring at the stack of cash. Handing me a business card, he continued. "Just go to this address and pick on the one you want. Text her and if she is available you're all set."

The smaller of the two smiled at the words pick the one you want. It was hard to believe now that ordering a hooker was just as easy as ordering take-out, or maybe it had always been this way and I never noticed. I had died before I had even started to truly live or have a chance to doing thing like that, so I wouldn't know.

I flipped through the bills one by like I was counting them, never letting my gaze leave his.

"I don't need cheap hookers. I am looking for someone specific."

When I hit the hundreds I could see his interest pick up and he tightened his grip on his arms and snorted, "Do I look like have information?"

I stopped at the two-thousand-dollar mark and responded, "No, and it doesn't cost a mere quarter to talk to you."

Rolling his eyes, he sighed and started talking.

"Ok, you tell me who you're looking for and I'll tell you if I know them." Snatching the money and slipping it into his pocket, he barked "And no refunds!" as he leaned against the wall.

Pointing to the street, I asked "Do you see the blue Lincoln parked across the street?" I could just barely see the front of it, but I figured whoever owned it was well enough known that just mentioning it would bring a name to mind. "I need to know who the owner is."

He reached into his pocket, the little chain that hung off his wallet jingling as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He plopped one into his mouth and lit it, revealing one of those cast-iron rings that could be bought at any fair ground or flea market. His was a horned skull with cheap plastic gems for eyes. When things went bad I would need to remember to watch out for his right hook.

"Now listen, friend. It's not who was driving the car that you need to worry about because any number of assholes could be driving that car. It's who owns the car that counts." Taking a drag and making circular motions with his mouth to make smoke rings, he added "Now if I was you and wanted to grow old, I would just walk away." He mimed doing so with his hands. "Take my advice, brother. Whatever they took from you, said to you, or did to you isn't worth dying over. The owner of that car will kill you. He is the guy that bad men fear. I am bad enough and tough enough. Spent most of my life in the Kingston Pen and I would not want to cross him."

"I am not that smart." I could see the other guy tensing up as he glanced at his friend. His hand was slipping into his pocket and turned slightly. "I really need that name."

"And what is so important that you are willing to face the devil himself over it?" He was sliding his hand into his back pocket, but I think it was the fear in his eyes that scared me the most. If even the idea of the owner scared a hardened criminal, then Jenny was in bigger trouble then even I imaged.

I slowly lifted my arms in the air watching both men flinching as I did, "I'm just showing you that I am unarmed. My beef isn't with you, but the owner of the Lincoln."

"Listen brother, I can't tell you who owns it. It would be like setting you up for murder. I am a killer, but I never killed women, kids, or random strangers. Everybody I ever hit had it coming."

"Just give me the name."

A streak of silver cut through the darkness as he screamed, "Get the hell out of here before I kill you myself!" His friend already had his fists clenched around a pair of brass knuckles and was waiting for the word to pound on me.

"Relax, friend. My beef is not with you." Both men were getting too irritated and nervous for my liking so I decided to end this now. Opening my hands and letting two little red gems attached to a silver chain drop I whispered, "Scistumagisremittererelaxat corpus, et sentissuavior." Both men immediately leaned closer trying to hear what I was saying more clearly. "Scistumagisremittererelaxat corpus, et sentissuavior," I repeated. As they were lost in the words and concentrating on the gems I kept whispering. "Vis ad relaxat. Ad amicum. Vosrelaxat. Scistumagisremittererelaxat corpus, et sentissuavior."

Most people think a good spell is in the words and it's true to a point. It's not the words themselves, but how you see them and can direct the magic inside of you. There were key words, so to speak. Everyone had their own trigger words. Mine were just a little older and had been handed down through the ages. They were both standing there, so relaxed that their bodies waved slightly from side to side. If they were any more relaxed they would certainly have fallen over.

I asked them again.

"I need to know who owns the car. Can't you tell me who owns that Lincoln?"

One of the men smiled and said, "The King owns it, but most times his brother Handsome Johnny drives it." Giggling, he added, "But he isn't really a gangster. Johnny is just a pretty boy who follows his brother's footsteps. He's a pussy at best, but his brother would kill me for saying so."

Keeping my tone reassuring I asked, "And where do I find Johnny and his brother?"

"Most nights here playing poker, but they didn't come tonight. They have bigger fish in the pot, I guess."

"What kind of big fish are they cooking?"

Still smiling he responded, "Don't know. I'm just the doorman and you live a lot longer if you don't ask too many questions."

"Thank you. Now can I get into the poker game?" I wanted to see if I could arrange a meeting or at least send a message to this man the king.

He was almost in tears as he whined, "You can't... It's by invitation only and the door doesn't open until the game is over. Even if I pound on the door screaming that the cops were here it wouldn't open until the game is finished. Our job is to escort anyone who owes more than he has on him home to get it or if need be, to make an example out of him." Obviously there was a back door someplace or an old rumrunners tunnel. Nobody ever admitted that they still existed, but they were definitely there.

The smaller balding guy with the piercing over his eye was smirking and laughing like there was a joke that only he knew about. It was more of chuckle and he kept looking over to my new friend.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"I was just remembering a freeloader that couldn't pay his debt."

"Tell what was funny about this freeloader."

"We brought him home and waited. No money. He asked the King for a week and still no money. So one day we wait until he is out with the family and when he comes home we grab them."

"And after you grabbed them what did you do?" The bigger of the two started weeping as the memory came to him, but the smaller one just kept smiling. No remorse in his heart at all. I had seen too many of his kind and they all got more pain than they might have deserved, but I never felt sorry them. Hell is a hothouse filled with fire and brimstone and we all build it brick by brick as we live our lives.

"You see, this guy had a beautiful daughter." There was something in the twinkle in his eyes that made me hate him. Not just want to hurt him, but literally hate him like I have hated no other.

I didn't need to hear the whole story. Some images, once they got stuck in your head you could never get them out.

"Silence," I said firmly. Both men froze in place as I stared them down.

I drove my hand into the smaller man's chest as I said "Combustio!" placing the image of a white flame firmly in my mind. I could feel the heat from my hands growing hotter and hotter as the flame started to expand and burn away his flesh. His mouth opened as he prepared to scream, but he went quiet when I repeated myself.

"I said silence." His face contorted in pain and went pale as he started gasping for air. The agony must have been unbearable as his body started burning from the inside out. I could stop him from screaming out with force of will, but even if I wanted to I couldn't stop the pain. His flesh became dust and fell to the ground like fresh snow to be caught by the wind and scattered everywhere. Even the bone was turned to dust and the dust was lost amongst the dirt and trash that laid along the alley.

My legs shook as I had used up most of my strength. Dropping to my knees, my whole body trembled and my head started to pound like I had had a hangover after spending three days drunk. I struggled to clear my eyes knowing I should have saved my strength, but I had no regrets. We must all pay a price for our sins and now his penance was beginning.

"It seems like you are allowing too many distractions to get in the way of your real reason for being here," a familiar voice whispered from some place above me. I scanned the roof tops trying to find Murlin, but she was just as ellusive as she was beautiful. "What purpose is there in chasing down a ghost from the past that belongs in the past? Master, you are allowing her to distract you from your true purpose." She slid down the building and transformed into her human self. The one that she let the world see to protect herself.

"I am not doing it for her." No, I was doing it for Mike. That look in his eyes was pleading for me to find her. That look told me that she was his unattainable love and even though he'd never hold her or kiss her she was still his love.

Before I had a chance to finish she snapped, "No you are doing it because she, like this city, is a piece of the past you are trying to reclaim. It's like finding a lost pair of jeans in the bottom of the closet or your underwear in-between the couch cushions at an old boyfriend's house. No matter how much you want squeeze you ass into them, they never quite fit right."

"I am not trying to reclaim any past glory. I don't think my past is filled with anything that I would consider glorious." I thought maybe once for a heartbeat, I had felt loved but the pieces of the puzzle never pointed to glory. She did have a point though. I was running out of time and time was precious to me now.

"Yes you are, but we can argue this subject later. What are you going to with him?" she said with a disgusted look on her face as she pointed at the remaining man.

He was still standing there weeping and trembling staring down at the little pile of sand that used to his best friend. There was regret in his eyes as the memories came to life and that it was that regret that saved his life. I hadn't actually thought about what I was going to do with him. Obviously he had list of crimes to pay for as long as his arm, but it was that look of regret and heartbreak that made it impossible to kill him. Every man has the right to clear his heart of the burden of his sins if he truly feels regrets for his past actions and deeds. I have walked through the valley of the dead. It's a bitch. It's like walking from the desert and stepping into a volcano and then the horrors start. No, I would give him a chance to wipe the slate clean.

Pointing at him I asked, "Are you responsible for any unsolved crimes or have any warrants out on you?"

Dropping his head like a child he muttered "Yes, many unsolved crimes."

"Go to the police station and confess them all tonight. Every last one." I was sure that he would spend the rest of his life in prison, but we all needed to pay for our sins. Why should he be any different?

"Yes sir," was his only response and he slowly started walking towards the end of the alley at a slow, sluggish pace. He was emptying his pockets, dropping a couple of knives, a pair of brass knuckles, a couple of small packages which I assumed were drugs, and a small handgun. I had made the right choice. Prison was so much better then leaving him on the streets.

Murlin snapped, "You can't be kind if you are going to do what needs to be done." Pointing at the man walking away she snorted, "Him, Jenny, and even Mike are just distractions. You cannot afford distractions. Not if you are going to do what must be done before he comes to claim you."

"I am not distracted," I snapped, still watching him walk away. Distraction or not I made a choice and would follow it through until the end.

A blinding light broke through the darkness. The light was so bright that I could barely see his silhouette off in the distance. I could barely see the other man's bulky figure through what appeared to be smog and light. "I need to confess my sins," he screamed. "My soul hangs in the balance." I brought my arm up to protect my eyes, but it didn't help me see what was going at us. I knew that it was a car creeping through the alley towards us. There was the sound of metal being tossed around as it came towards us.

My eyes were still adapting to the eye-burning light when I heard Murlin scream, "Get out of here." The engine roared as if a whole herd of horses trapped under the hood had been set free to stampede right over me.

chapter EIGHTEEN

Jenny

I was left in an even smaller room with small, steel-meshed windows. The sunlight flickered through them making diamond shapes on the little brown folding card table directly in front of me. I desperately wanted to go to the window and look out into the real world to see where I was, but there was a small camera in the corner and I knew that they were watching me. I didn't want to do anything that could make my situation even worse than it already was. This was a strange little room at best. The ceiling was curved with cracks and black streaks running all along the wall. On the far wall stood some kind of white metal table that had leather restraints fastened to it. The scariest thing though was the thin jockey's whip that dangled from a hook on the wall. I once overspent by five thousand dollars and Wilson spanked me with his belt. I couldn't sit for a week and the welts on my ass turned to bruises. Clumps of dirt and dust covered the floor like drifts in the desert.

The door opened and a giant heavy man strolled into the room with Johnny following close behind him, dragging a frightened teenage girl behind him. A loud boom echoed through the whole room as the one they called the King dropped a hardcover book flat on the top of the card table. He was a big bulky man wearing a finally-tailored Italian suit with a bright red, striped tie.

"I need you answer some questions," he said. For someone his size he looked like he had fast reflexes,and for a common mobster he seemed overly sophisticated. "I don't want to hurt you, but I will if I have to." A grin filled his face as he pointed to the fish-faced Handsome Johnny. "My little brother there seems to think that your guardian Renaud has some kind of supernatural powers, or something like that." With each step he took, little clouds of dust flew up making the air feel like sand paper in my lungs. A fan swirled, making a clicking noise as it oscillated. The King kept pacing as he tried to stay in front of it. Sweat dripped off ofhis forehead as he waved his hands in the air. "So Mrs. Bailey, do you believe in monsters?"

Johnny was shaking and tapping the wall with his foot as he leaned against the wall. He was staring at me with fear-filled eyes and it made me nervous. He was trying to coax my response by silently opening his mouth and saying the best responses.

"Mrs. Bailey, if you can't answer the simple questions how can I expect the truth when it comes to the hard ones?" He kept walking back and forth and each time he stared at me there was this feeling that I was being choked from the inside. Tapping the tabletop, he stared like he could see right through me. "Now Johnny there told me that you would co-operate and answer my questions honestly."

My heart was racing so fast that I began to feel lightheaded, and my head started to pound as if there was a drummer playing a double encore inside it.

"I will tell you whatever you want to know. Do I believe in monsters? Up until yesterday no, but now yes. I married one and it appears that I was kidnapped by them."

The self-proclaimed King burst out laughing, though it was more of a howl than something any human could make. Slapping the table so hard that it shook, a wide grin filled his face.

"I think it's best that I motivate you to tell me the truth." The way he pronounced "truth" was intimidating as hell. He stood up and slowly took off his jacket, folding it carefully before he placed it on the table. "You see, normally I would I would just beat you until you told me what I wanted to know and begged for death, but Johnny there seems to think that your friend Renaud would take that as a personal insult and I'd like to know the measure of a man before I go to war with him."

Pointing to the girl standing in the corner he snarled, "This is Maria. Now Maria has recently been a big disappointment." The girl in the corner was trembling as streams of tears ran down her cheeks. Her mouth opened to talk and the King lifted a finger and silenced her without saying a word. "Now Maria came to us as nothing more than a homeless little rat. No home, no food and certainly no future. Isn't that right Maria?"

Still trembling, the woman dropped her head and whimpered, "Yes sir."

"What's that, I can't hear you?"

Looking up she clamped her hands together and cried, "Yes sir. I was just a homeless rat. Unloved and unwanted." If it weren't for the streaks of mascara running down her cheeks, she would look like any other woman you'd see at the classiest hotels and or shopping centers. Red high heels, black fishnet stockings, a short red skirt and almost see-through blouse that was just a little too tight. It reminded me of the early 1990's when I wore short skirts and no panties.

Stepping towards her, he ran a finger along her chin and she seemed to be torn between passion and fear.

"Now you must realize, Mrs. Bailey that Maria is one my favorites. I helped train her personally. I took an interest in this baby girl and gave her life skills." He ran his fingers along the back of her neck and whispered, "And what do I get in return for all my generosity?" He was looking at the girl like he expected an answer and the young woman's whole body shook. "Well?"

Behind them, Johnny was still leaning against the door anxiously looking from side to side like he was desperately searching for a way to escape. Every word that the Kingsaid caught his attention and his eyes watered like the young woman was his lover. Staring at her and then to his brother, he clenched his hands together and dropped his head. The scariest part was the idea that if Johnny wouldn't defend or save the woman he loved, he certainly wouldn't do a damn thing to save me.

Grabbing her by the neck he raised his voice, "And what did you do to repay my generosity?"

Covering her face with her hands she dropped the floor trembling and crying. "This bitch stole from her Daddy!"

Lowering her head to the floor she wailed, "I am so sorry Daddy, I won't do it again. I promise, Daddy I'll be a good bitch." Watching her, I couldn't bring myself to pity her. I am not a heartless bitch, but whether we want to admit it or not we all sell a little piece of ass. Some it's for a wedding ring and we justify it by saying that we are in love. For others, it was just for the money and yet there are those like me who traded it so that we could have money and still be somebody. This girl chose the wrong kind of Daddy to have and I couldn't force myself to feel sorry for her.

Pointing in my direction he smiled and said, "Now girly, I want you to watch what's about to happen very carefully." Stepping closer to me he leaned over and whispered, "This is for your benefit, Mrs. Bailey. Unlike some, I think that punishments are a private affair but for your benefit I am making it public."

I jumped back, "For my benefit?" I asked, surprised. At first I thought that this was just an intimidation tactic meant to scare me. It was working as on the inside I was terrified.

He was rolling up his sleeves and walking towards the wall where the jockey's whip hung. "Oh yes, Mrs. Bailey. This is for your benefit. I need some questions answered about your old flame, Renaud. He's been quite the pain in my side since he returned home and I think you can provide them."

"You don't need to do this. I will tell you whatever you want to know about him and anything else."

Taking the whip, he snapped it through the air forcing everybody in the room to cower back each time it snapped.

"Oh no Mrs. Bailey, this is for your benefit. You'll see, soon enough I think you'll be working for me and this is a lesson. I want you to see it and remember. When you join my family and right now, with Wilson in the hospital and your former lover taking hold of his family's kingdom, I think you'll be a valued member of my family very soon."

He kicked the table and it swiveled in a circular motion and hit the card table. It was one of those 1950s-looking tables with drawers that always felt too stiff and was cold on the ass. The blonde girl with the big floppy breasts shrieked and jumped backwards, trying to keep out of its way.

"Now Maria, you have been on this side of the punishment before so I assume you know exactly what you need to do."

I am not sure what I expected, but what was about to happen wasn't it. I guess I had watched too many gangster movies with Wilson and adult videos on my own. The young woman nodded and sat down on the table, slowly taking off her shoes. She set the high-heeled shoes on the table. These weren't the usual knockoffs that you see a lot these days, but the real deal. Black and red with a six inch heal that most woman would die for. There is something about shiny, expensive shoes that makes every situation seem a little less frightening. I expected her to continue stripping off the layers, but she didn't. She sat on the table with hands on her lap, waiting like an obedient child.

Pointing with the whip he ordered, "Take position." The young girl immediately crawled on her stomach and laid there with her feet stretched out. As he paced around he asked, "Do I need to restrain you or at you going to take your punishment like a good girl."

"I will take my punishment like a good girl, there is no reason to restrain me," She said meekly as she gripped the restraints closest to her head. The King had so much control over these women that I truly wondered what Wilson had gotten me into. I had heard of such men taking a broken girl and breaking her even more until pleasing him means more than their own happiness or self-respect. Where was that fine line when one went from owned sugar baby to just plain whore? I had no intentions of ending up as just a plain whore.

"Do you see the bottoms of her feet?" he asked as he pointed towards her feet. There were two fine lines etched into the flesh of each foot. "Like allmy girls, she carries these scars as a mark of shame." Stepping away he opened his arms, "Now I don't like doing this type of thing, but like all business men I need to run a profitable business and Maria isn't very profitable now. Nobody likes a thief in their family."

Maria closed her eyes and whimpered, "Whatever punishment Daddy seems fit to give me I deserve," as she gripped the leather restraints preparing for the pain that would obviously follow. I was stunned by the way this woman was so anxious to please this fat bastard that she was going to just lay there and take it.

"You don't have to do this. Ask me what you want to ask and I will tell you what I know."

He rotated the table with Maria on it around so that she was facing me.

"Oh I think I do. I think that this will serve as a lesson for both of you." There was a spark of cruelty in his eyes and he seemed to be thriving on the power of it all. He kept tapping the arch of her foot with the whip and each time she'd shiver and squeeze her face expecting the next one to dig right into her flesh. The King was a control freak and I can only assume that the idea of what was coming was much worse then what was coming.

A loud snap echoed from the whip hitting the tabletop forcing Maria to shriek and I jumped back so fast that I almost tipped the chair I was tied to. He was taking too much pleasure from it. The idea that he had this much power over me not only amused him, but excited him too.

Gasping for breath after the shock I responded, "You don't need to beat this poor girl or terrorize me for me to tell you what you want to know."

He smiled playfully.

"Ok, Mrs. Bailey. This girl's pain is in your hands. If I believe what you say then she won't be punished, but if I doubt your honesty the pain will be much more severe." He ran his finger through her hair like she was a show dog instead of a woman. "Does that sound fair to you, Maria?" Pointing at me he added, "Mrs. Bailey controls your punishment. If she lies, you get her punishment as well as what's owed to you. If she tells me what I want to know then you won't be punished at all."

She looked at me with pleading eyes as she replied, "If that is what Daddy wants."

"No dear, I think it's what Mrs. Bailey wants." If he was trying to intimidate me it worked because I was ready to tell him whatever he wanted and bend over the table and do whatever he wanted, but unlike this broken child I would never call him Daddy.

Opening a book, he asked, "Is this Renaud?"

I slowly pulled the book over and saw the picture of the Renaud Barthélémy. It was the one I knew. The one that believed in love and the only thing he wanted was to be loved so desperately by me. This wasn't just a book though; it was the copy that he sent to me to win back my love. The one that Wilson told me he destroyed.

"Yes, that is him." I ran my finger across the picture, feeling the smooth paper as it touched my skin. Once his touch felt like that and there was no sadness in his eyes. This picture was staged of course, but that sad look was real.

Pacing around he added, "Now my understanding is that he left some time ago and just happened to return as we were about to finalize the takeover of his brother's company. Why do you think that is? Coincidence? I think not."

I had no real idea where he vanished to or what he did and I certainly had no idea why he returned, but I knew how to spin a tale to my advantage. To add to the value of leaving me unharmed.

Leaning forward I said shyly, "He isn't here for the company. He came here to ruin Wilson and take me." He was too gullible even if he was a criminal genius. "And to find whoever killed his brother."

"Yes, the late Nathanial B."

"I can't say for sure, but it seems that he thinks it was you."

A loud snap filled the room and Maria howled, "I don't want to know what you think, just what you know."

Maria was still wailing in pain as he pointed the whip at me and said, "See what you made me do?"

The door opened and Johnny leaned over, listening intently. Staring at Maria and then to me, a smile filled his face. He immediately walked over to The King and whispered something in his ear which seemed to bring more joy to his face then beating that poor stupid girl.

"Now Mrs. Bailey, it appears that all our stresses have been solved and once the rumor has been verified you will be returned to your husband." With that, he set the whip on the table and walked away. He stopped and looked at Maria who was beginning to climb off the table.

"I didn't say you could move, Maria. Take this time to think about what you did." Like an obedient little puppy, she laid back down on the table and just stared blankly off into space.

He looked at Johnny's arm and turning, he asked "And what is the woman's name? The one that shattered Johnny's arm like it was a piece of rotten wood?"

"That would be Murlin, I think."

"Good. I think I would very much like to meet this creature Murlin." The door closed with a click and then the lights were turned off, leaving me sitting in the dark pondering what the future was going to bring. He said I would be returned to my husband, but I think he meant lying next to him in some unmarked grave. Renaud was my only hope and good news for them was terrible news for me..

chapter NINETEEN

Mike

Laying on the cold, dirty ground wasn't exactly how I planned to spend my night. From the pool of blood growing around me it was possible that this would be my last night. I could hear something chewing and chattering from over in the distance. Damn rats, I thought knowing that a rainy summer usually forced the little bastards out into the open. If the stench of rotting garbage was overpowering standing at the end of the alley it was unbearable from down here. The most concerning thing was the crinkling sound of plastic getting louder and louder. The idea of being chewed on by rats wasn't something I looked forward to and I hoped that these prosperous times in the rat's lives made them too spoiled to want to snack on middle-aged priest.

A savage growling followed by even louder screams and whimpers didn't even resemble anything human. Snapping sounds followed by what I can only call a mumbled grunt made my stomach turn. A few days ago, events like this were just things of fiction. Entertainment that made my throat tighten and excited me.I was always safe in the knowledge that these monsters only existed in stories and those like Harrow never killed the innocent. Now I realized that the real monsters kill anyone. I wanted to say a prayer to help ease the poor creature's journey, but I didn't have the energy or maybe I just didn't think his soul belonged in paradise. It seemed to me that my last few minutes shouldn't be wasted trying to save lost souls when I felt like the state of my own was in question.

"Where is she?" Harrow yelled and a loud knocking sound followed. "Where did your master take her?" The sound of his questions were repeated, but the brutality of the effects of his disappointment increased as the seconds turned into minutes. The spatter of warm blood covered me like a mist, quickly go from warm to chilling. Finally, it was quiet and the only thing I could hear and feel was a light covering of dust as it floated down covering my face. The questions likely stopped before Harrow's frustration stopped which told me that the group of thugs was no longer. Dead men don't answer the living and the smell of fresh blood answered that even if I didn't ask the question.

My eyes felt heavy as I laid there, trying to gather what little strength I had left in me to make my escape. The footsteps grew louder as Harrow came closer. I didn't need to see him to know that, like all forces of nature, he was the only one left standing. There was the twang of metal bouncing off pavement beside me.

"I can't believe that you tried to kill me. How stupid are you? Really, you chose a silver knife that was blessed by an unworthy servant of your God. Where in lore or even the movies did you think that something like that could harm me?"

I was too tired to croak out an answer and even if I had the energy to answer him, what the hell would I say? Sorry I didn't choose the right weapon to kill you? Everybody fails in life. Usually small things that they learn from, move on, and forget. Others, the price is a bit steeper and consists of their life. Then there are others like me, who make a mistake and realize too late that it's their soul and afterlife that is at stake.

"I really should kill you, Mike. All you're doing is getting in the way. You're stopping me from doing what I must. I am not the biggest monster in this jungle." Even in this dim light the shadows told me that he was pacing around me like a predator preparing to strike. "Son of a bitch. I can't kill you, but you're dying." It only occurred to me at that point that I didn't feel any pain. That I could no longer move my hands or feel anything but a tingling in my fingers. My body was shivering, but it wasn't caused by the cold or the sweat that was streaming from my forehead. "I should just walk away and leave you as you are." He was still pacing around as he muttered, "You aren't even the boy I grew up with anymore. I should let you die, but I won't. No, I might still need you to control the real monster."

There was a burning sensation right across my neck as he yanked me forward and quickly whipped me up to my feet. I didn't have the strength or control to support my own weight, but my guardian demon so to speak didn't seem to mind.

He kept muttering, "Yesterday you served a god and now you will feel like one."

I feared death. The idea of dying here scared the hell out me. I was laying there helpless with the words echoing inside my mind. "Yesterday you served a god and tomorrow you will feel like one..." I had served him faithfully for years, but if Harrow could exist untouched who knows what else was out there. What if I was going to miss my opportunity to go to heaven? What if right here to save my life he was going to damn my soul? I would rather die here with my immortal soul intact then to spend my days embraced by darkness.

I struggled to say one simple word. "No." Gasping for air I waited for a response, but there wasn't any. "No,I don't want!" I tried to cry out, but only a faint whistle came out.

I waited knowing that soon enough he was going to be tasting my blood. Even I knew that in order to save me he was going to kill me and all the goodness inside me. His strong hands directed me like a kite on a string. My eyes were heavier than ever and I was getting lightheaded from the loss of blood. I was preparing for the worst thing imaginable and like all good terrors I just wanted it over.

Something touched my lips and the burning started. It wasn't like fire, but more like an annoying spiced drink that kept lingering in your mouth. It reminded of those spicy little heart-shaped candies that they used to give out on Valentine's Day. I couldn't remember the name of them, only that as a child I thought thatthis was what kisses were like, and that if that was the case I never wanted to be kissed. I was such a foolish child back then. Whatever was entering my mouth felt thick and pasty on my tongue. Too thick to spit out, but too hot to swallow. I felt like I was choking and then there was a firm pinch as pressure was added to the hand covering my mouth.

"You need to drink this," Harrow ordered as he pressed even harder. Mentally I was fighting him off tooth and nail, but physically I was struggling to even push a bit of it out. I was crying on the inside as the idea of what I was about to become took over and my humanity was being choked by whatever I was about to become.

A low thudding sound was bouncing all around me and the array of odors was attacking me from all angles.

"This isn't going to be pleasant," he muttered. "You are going to find that the sensations are so powerful that it echoes in your mind." I wasn't quite sure what he was trying to say only that I didn't like the idea at all. That constant thudding was growing louder and with each beat it was like something was punching the inside of my head. Not just something, but a world class boxer and he was pounding away until my brain was mush. Above me, there was a small fan its worn bearings making a constant scraping sound as the blade spun. The tingling in my arms and hands turned into a long series of pulses and a crackling noise followed. The pain was almost unbearable and I was certain that I was burning from the inside out.

I found myself standing in the lobby of some fancy European hotel with one of those grand curved staircases that went up along the side with a thick railing and bright red carpets. I don't know how I knew it, but the round outlet with two round holes on either side told me I was in some Europe somewhere.I felt strange, like my body didn't feel right. I looked down at my hands and they didn't seem right. Long, thin fingers without the wrinkles and a feeling that my skin was too thin. The hands felt too young when time had stolen my youth away and left fat, aged fingers behind. In the middle of the lobby stood a giant round desk with a small annoyed-looking bald man sitting behind it. He was one of those skinny, 'better then thou' type of men who always seemed upset that life didn't go the way they wanted it to. In my business, I met a lot of people like that. The ones that blame the world because life got too tough and they gave up.

He looked up and tried to smile as he said, "Mister Barthélémy, here is the key for your room." Mister Barthélémy? What was happening here?

Was this idiot blind. I looked like none of the Barthélémy brothers. They were always tall, athletic, and handsome. The only way I could possibly look like a Barthélémy was if spend way too much on surgery and didn't eat for a year.

I said, "Is Mihaela waiting for me?" The voiceleaving my lips wasn't mine. It was deeper and seemed more sophisticated than I had ever sounded.

"Yes, she came in an hour ago." He had this naughty grin on his face as he handed me a key and said, "She asked that I give you a key. You are in room 118 facing the river," in a thick accent.

Taking the key in the foreign voice I said, "Thank you," and made my way up the stairs. I don't know why, but somehow I had been here before. It was too familiar and I felt too comfortable as I took the steps two at a time filled with excitement. Almost running down the long, narrow hallway I was counting the numbers on the doors as I went. 202 then 204 all the way around to 118 and each time the number changed I could feel my heart pounding faster and faster. Was I truly reliving some cherished moment hidden inside Harrow's soul? It wasn't like reading the pages in a diary, but like living them and I feared what other terrible secrets might climb out of his dark soul. What I feared even more was that I might discover I liked walking in the darkness more then I liked walking in the light.

The body that seemed to trap my soul just stood there staring at the white door with the gold numbers 118 on it. It hesitated and I could feel the chest tighten like it was mine. Like it belonged to me. I half expected that the strange hand would reach out and tap on the door, but instead it reached for the door knob and forced its way into the room. The door opened and I expected some kind of battle to ensue. A cheating girlfriend or someone that owed him money, but instead all I saw was a small-framed pale woman with ruby lips and sparkling eyes.

She smiled and chirped, "Daddy, you came!" as she ran over wrapping her limbs around me squeezing so tight it felt like she was going to force the air right out of me.

He kissed her forehead gently and whispered, "Of course, my love. For you no distance is too far and no task is too big." This was a side of Harrow that I didn't think existed. A soft, loving side that was filled with passion. I couldn't imagine that he even knew what love such as this was, let alone believe that he could feel it. He ran his hand along her cheek and it felt cold to the touch, but to him just touching her made his whole body shiver. He kissed her lips and for just an instant he felt complete, like he was stepping into the sunlight for the first time.

Mihaela jumped back onto the bed and squealed, "I still can't believe that you are here!" Her face was filled with a warm smile, but there was coldness frozen in her eyes. She was calling him over with a single finger, "Daddy, do you love me? How much do you love your little girl?"

Opening his arms, he said, "My life is in your hands." I can't say why, but right from the minute that I opened the door and entered the room I felt like I was following Harrow's journey into darkness. That I was going to understand how a man trades his humanity for immortality.

A soft boyish voice whispered. "No, it's in my hands, witch." Through his eyes I saw a creature nightmares were made of. Taller than I had ever seen before with dull grey skin and hair as black as night. He was too thin for his body and too fierce to be human. I could feel his strength as his hand applied vice-like pressure around my neck.

"You will feel great pain, but it won't be for long, witch." He snarled. I wanted to scream out, but he was crushing my windpipe and only a whistle escaped. The monster squealed in excitement, "No voice means no spells."

Mihaela watched intently and the smile faded as she begged, "Can I keep him? Please let me keep him. I want to keep him. He is not like the others." She had her hands together in an almost begging fashion, "Please, my creator. Let me keep the wizard. I think I might be in love with him." She was impossibly fast as she jumped off the bed and snapped hold of the monster, begging him "Don't kill him. I don't want you to kill him."

"Down child," he muttered as he slapped her away with his long arms, sending her flying onto the floor. "I am your creator. Your father, and you will love only me." I watched helplessly through his eyes as the woman he loved rolled onto the floor knowing that there was nothing I could do to stop him.

"No," she screamed as she jumped up and charged towards him. "You can't kill him. Please!"

His grip wrapped around her throat as he dangled her a foot above the floor. "You are my child and you must obey me. He isn't a friend. He is food."

Harrow kept whispering the same words over and over inside his head. "Ignem inferni. Ure donec nihil pulvis. Ignem inferni. Ure donec nihil pulvis," but nothing was happening.

The monster laughed and lifted him up off the floor snarling, "I have been waiting for you for a long time."

Pain was rushing through his spine and even the whispers inside his head started to slur as he became more lightheaded, yet he kept trying to force the whispers to stay clear. "Ignem inferni. Ure donec nihil pulvis. Ignem inferni. Ure donec nihil pulvis," then I heard it. A loud swooshing noise followed by bright white flames. The monster's eyes widened as he kept repeating those words over and over, until Harrow's hand lifted and clamped down onto his head. The beast bellowed and tossed me backwards, throwing me into the wall. The pain from connecting with the wall wasn't anything close to the agony I felt from the crushed wind pipe.

He was bent over snarling like a beast, holding his head. He screamed, "I will destroy both of you!" as he grabbed hold of Mihaela and with a loud snap he broke her neck. "I will deal with you later," he said as he dropped her onto the floor. Harrow was stunned as he saw her dull, empty eyes staring back at him. He wanted to scream out and send him to hell, but now that was beyond him. He was going to die anyway. He knew from as far back as he could remember that he was destined to die today. He just didn't realize that he'd witness the closest thing he ever had to love die today too. "It's time to die, witch."

The door burst open and there was Renaud crying out, "Die creatura ad tenebras. Veni mecum in infernum," as he charged into the room with a fistfull of blue flames. It was almost like he expected to find something truly evil inside the room. He was soaring through the air and looked like he was flying with a scream on his lips, "Die creatura ad tenebras. Veni mecum in infernum." The monster looked up, but before he could react the flame had touched his face. Unlike Harrow's touch, this kiss with the flame burned his flesh straight to the bone and he screamed as the flames started burning away his flesh.

The creature was swinging wildly, blinded by the flame. Renaud sidestepped his swings like a professional fighter and as he grabbed the monster's face he whispered, "Die diaboli!" The beast's legs trembled as he repeated, "Die diaboli!" then it fell to the floor.

Staring at Murlin he pointed to the creature and said, "Cut off its head so he cannot walk the earth again. Murlin was carrying a long blade and quickly took his head. I watched it roll towards me and somehow I wanted to hold of it like it was some great prize.

Renaud kicked it to the corner and dropped to one knee grabbing hold of my head. There was panic in his face as he whispered, "Curare," but nothing happened. Tears filled his eyes as he stared down and slowly rubbed the side of my face compassionately. "Curare!" I could feel the life draining from this body and once again the panic set in. My soul was going to be consumed by Harrow's darkness as I relived his own first step into darkness. Renaud kept screaming, "Curare! Curare!"

He was staring at Murlin who still carried the large knife, "It's not working Murlin. He is dying!" There was genuine heartbreak in his eyes as he gripped Harrow's head, embracing it. His yelling turned into cries as he kept saying the same words over and over. "Curare! Curare!" Finally, he cried out "Don't you dare die on me, you bastard! Don't you dare!"

Mihaela was crawling towards me with her neck twisted unnaturally. I don't know how, but somehow I knew that she couldn't die. With each inch closer she came I realized that I already knew the ending. This was the day that Harrow traded humanity for immortality. The day he chose his life over another's.

In a low grumble she whispered, "I can save him."

Murlin snarled "No, Renaud don't do it!" as she leapt towards him. "No, you die if he lives." This was the first time that I ever felt true heartbreak and remorse. Not just inside Harrow, but so much remorse and heartbreak that I wanted to cry. I never realized that he even had it in him. That he could love unconditionally. If Harrow could have spoken, he would have begged his younger brother to let him die. That he knew his fate and nothing could change that.

Looking at Murlin he whispered, "If she changes him he will be dead. The curse is the oldest of every generation. If he is the undead then his soul cannot be collected."

Murlin snapped, "You can't break the curse by changing a man's destiny."

Mihaela was deformed and broken, but still headed straight towards him. "I will save you, my love," was all she said before she dug her fangs into me. The last thing that I remembered was her whispering, "You will live forever now, my love."

chapter TWENTY

Harrow

Down the street the engine roared like a lion as the car bounced around the corner, crashing its way down the alley. The exhaust didn't climb into the sky, but lingered and rolled along the street like chemical fog that slowly swallowed the air until only poison was left. The taillights faded as the vehicle left the street to do God only knows what. Looking up, I saw the moon calling to its children as it filled the sky. There was a time when the world associated the moon had power over children of the night like me, but these days it seemed that its calls had more power over humanity that it ever had over my kind. The echo of gunfire sounded like firecrackers exploding and little pops of light screamed criminal intent.

"Get out of here!" A woman screamed as the smell of gunpowder filled the streets. In my human days, I would never have noticed it but now I could see it floating in the air.

"Get the hell out of here!" she screamed again as the street was lit up by a flash of light before slowly fading into darkness. It was Murlin and whenever she was around Renaud wasn't too far away. Her soul and his were joined and unlike marriage between soul mates, their calling went even beyond death.

Mike was lying there in shock motionless and despite everything he had endured, I knew that he was recover unharmed. My blood was tainted by evil, but it would heal him even if he hated me for it. A small stream of tears ran down his cheek and I knew that he was struggling. His faith would be tested and might even be shredded, but he would live.

I stepped over him and whispered, "Don't hate me Mike. I had to share my darkness in order to save your life."

I picked him up and threw him over my shoulder. I walked towards the entrance of the alley and stopped to check the streets. The alley was bustling with human traffic. Not the standard good versus evil that most people fantasize about when they think of criminals, but evil versus evil. Not in these streets where crime always lives, but that was the way the world works. Not just here in my city, but in any city if one takes the time to look. Mike's car was just down the street, hidden between a Lincoln and one of those stoner vans that the potheads seem to like so much. I am sure that he thought he was being discreet, but I had to walk past it in order to leave and I could smell him easily.

I crept along the streets trying to stay in the shadows and not be seen. Mike undoubtedly would wake up feeling stronger and more powerful, but it would wear off and he would be alive. I opened the passenger door of his little Honda and gently slid him into the seat. He was silent and stiff which was expected. It would take a few hours for him to heal then a few hours longer before he woke up. Locking his door, I closed it and went to clean up the mess in the alley. The only way a true hunter survives is making sure that the other prey never knows that those who came before had been hunted.

I watched the alley like I watched the world. Just slightly hidden from view, but close enough that I could see the details of life as they unfold. When the car finally made its way down I expected loud screams or begging, but there weren't any. It wasn't silent by any means, but it wasn't a battle cry either.

Through the cloud of exhaust, I saw a grungy old cat running out onto the sidewalk as it made its way down towards the river. It seemed like everything lead to the river. It was a leftover from the days when everything came by ship and the Detroit River was the heart of the city. Wow though, it was mostly just a place to feel the breeze on your face and watch the sun set. Of course, all my sunsets had to be viewed through tinted glass which allowed my eyes to see its beauty, but it was still in an altered manner. When Murlin was certain that she was out of sight I saw her transform into her human form. She had always been an alluringly beautiful creature and now watching her trot away I couldn't help but remember all those times that had I wished she had chosen me and not my brother as her master. It wasn't a matter of who was the greatest or who had the most power. It was the point that I was born doomed and Renaud had a future that she wanted to help mold. At the time I hated him for it. He was lucky enough to be born minutes after me, which meant he would live and I would die and now he got the girl. Not romantically, but she loved him endlessly. I watched her slip in between the rows of cars as she made her escape, never looking back. How odd I thought. Murlin left Renaud behind and that in itself was unexpected at best. Maybe loyalty doesn't live beyond the grave.

When she was certain that nobody could see her she backtracked and jumped into a Ford Fit. It was a rental car and nobody would really take notice unless they pointed and laughed. This being a town where even a grandma would drive a muscle car, nobody would notice an economy car. I could see a woman in the driver's seat, but somehow she was able to hide her face from me. I stepped out of the shadows to see her more clearly but something seemed to be blocking my view. This wasn't natural, I thought. Unnatural things made me nervous and things that made me nervous generally didn't end well. I saw the taillights flick on and then the car puttered out of sight until it turned and was lost around a corner. Part of me wanted to chase it down, but I didn't.

I headed towards the alley again. The darkness would give way to morning and time was rapidly stealing away my sanctuary. Light would soon trap me if I wasn't fast enough. The sunlight was always chasing me, or at least that's how it always felt. I was always trying to outrun the daylight and ruthlessly, it always came.

There was too much action happening in the alley for someone not to pick up on it. Even in this part of town this much action would draw the wrong kind of attention but as far as I could see there was no magic, black or otherwise. Man, monster, or something else entirely. It was just stupid humans hunting whatever Renaud had become. I still wasn't certain what he was now. All I knew for sure was that Nathanial always thought that if he ever returned our families curse would be reborn. I was going to have to kill him if Nathanial was correct.

I was standing at the edge of the alley expecting to see the horrific results of my battle. Some might have called it torture, but these men dared to hunt me and it was a battle. You don't reason with killers, you kill them. Besides, Mike was determined that Jenny had to be saved and I needed him on my side. He wasn't physically strong but he had a pure heart and I needed him to stand by me when I finally had to face Renaud. I could still smell their blood. To me it was like stepping into an apple orchard with a warm breeze that pushed the sweet aroma of blood around. When I was a child, I used to love the smell that came with apple picking. How fresh and sweet the air smelled and tasted in the autumn. It was one of my favorite memories. There was also the taste of warm apple cider to warm my soul. Now, that was the sensation that I felt with the smell of fresh blood. I had gotten used to feeding off drug addicts and diseased whores, but I craved healthy blood. It was like living on freeze dried military rations and smelling a freshly barbequed steak. You can live off it, but that damn steak is always in your mind.

The alley was empty. The scent of freshly spilled blood still called to me, but the blood and every other trace of the horror was gone. I slowly made my way down, letting my hand run along the smooth bricks as I went. The sun hadn't started climbing into the sky yet, so I searched every shadow trying to figure if anyone or anything was hiding just out of view. I could smell something lingering in the air, but it wasn't human. It wasn't familiar so even I tasted fear tonight. I stood behind dumpster gazing down the end of the alley, not sure what to expect. The whole damn thing was too clean and tidy. Cleaner then I could have left it in such a short amount of time, and I was an expert at hiding bodies. There were hundreds of them stashed by me in places where they would never be found, but not this quickly or thoroughly.

I was still standing there when a car stopped at the alley entrance. Immediately,I leapt up so fast that human eyes wouldn't be able to register me grappling ahold of the fire escape. It wasn't one of those modern steel ones, though. It was an older cement pedestal-type fire escape that looked more like a balcony than a safety apparatus. As I hit the bottom I gripped the side with my hands, watching pebbles and dust fall to the ground below. I could feel the other cement beam twist as my feet connected with it. I was trying to balance myself against the bottom, hoping that it wouldn't bend and crumble from my weight. Time hadn't been any fairer with it than it had been with the rest of the city. It was weaving forward and making a creaking sound and I expected it to crumble down at any minute.

"Where the hell are they?" I heard a man ask. "They said they caught him right here in the alley." The moose-like figure was standing there with a shotgun in his hand as he scanned the alleyway. Holding a flashlight in his other hand he followed it up and down the alley, even though it wasn't turned on. He stepped forward then stopped bouncing from foot to foot, always looking behind him. "Maybe it's the wrong alley?"

Behind him stood a second figure.

"No, it's not." Pointing to the building with his flashlight, "They said that they followed him into the alley between Pep's Convenience and All White Laundry, so this has to be the place." He didn't seem eager to step in to the alleyway either as he muttered, "We don't get paid enough to chase down The King's men."

"Yes, we aren't being paid near enough for this shit." I don't know why I was surprised that The King had cops on his payroll. Hell, if I considered myself a criminal mastermind I would have a few in my pocket as well. Damn crooked cops. It seemed to me, now that I thought about it, here in a city that was slowly dying day by day bad cops were a dime a dozen. I was sure that there were still enough of the good ones, but greed fills most men's hearts as they go through life. Everybody starts off with the highest of morals, I thought, but time twisted them until greed was stronger.

"I am not going into every damn alleyway in the city," the one said as he slowly started walking away.

"Damn right we aren't," the smaller one said as he opened the car door, taking one last look before closing the door. It was almost like they had a sixth sense. They scanned the alley again, almost like they knew evil was hiding somewhere close by and knowing that they just couldn't see it. Yet even if they didn't want to find it, they were still searching for it. These two would never know how lucky they were that they didn't find me, because if they did the last face that they ever saw would be filled with fangs and claws. Feeding on two cops, even the corrupt kind, would draw way too much attention though. When they were positive that the alley was empty, they slowly began to drive off towards Renaud and the other riffraff.

Panic set in as I realized that the sky was brighter than it should be. I was forced to wait too long thanks to those damn cops. They were too thorough in their investigation, even if they didn't walk down the length of the alley. Now I was crouched under an old fire escape watching the sky growing brighter. The sunlight was slowly creeping its way down the wall across from me like Heaven's swords coming to take my life. It was dropping slowly and it seemed to be coming straight for me. If I still had a heartbeat I am sure that it would be racing, but luckily I didn't. My chest still tightened though, as the muscles compressed until they felt like metal bands under my flesh.

The sun came closer and closer as it made its way down the wall. I watched it traveling downward brick by brick, knowing that each time it dropped the width of another brick I was one notch closer to being trapped by the daylight. I searched the alley for a hiding place that would protect me from my enemy. A few scattered trash bags and soggy paper bags would not save me. I felt the burning sensation long before I realized what was happening. I looked over at my hand and it was burning away, so hot that the bone showed. I immediately let go, screaming in pain as my body dropped to the ground. My body almost broke in two as gravity drove it into the edge of the trash bin before smashing my face into the pavement. A jagged stone poked into my eye socket, tearing out my eye in the process and sending excruciating pain throughout my body. It felt like it had burst through the back of my head and that side of my head tingled like it was being touched by a spring rain.

Half blind, I attempted to slide my hand under the trash bin. It was my chance to escape the sunlight and survive the day. I could hear the bones from my fingers scraping between the pavement and the metal of the bin as I forced it under it. The idea of being trapped in a hot metal box that reeked wasn't appealing, but burning alive wasn't a better option. I finally managed to flip it, but I had used too much force and it rolled right across the full width of the alley smashing into the wall. The panic was stronger than I thought it would be. The fear of burning away to nothing more than dust was stronger than the agony of my flesh cooking. I started to drag my body towards the bin, struggling to beat the vicious rays of sunlight. My back felt warm at first and then an explosion of fire came, forcing a shriek of agony to escape my lips.

I was inches away from safety when something grabbed my ankle and yanked me back. After all my struggles to find safety, I was pulled right back into danger. It was a trap, I thought. I knew Renaud was bringing a war with him, but I had no idea that his cruelty was that this strong. It seemed to me that he was the only one who had the power to trap me like this. I was desperately trying to drag myself away towards cover and protection from the sunlight, yet something kept dragging me back. The flames took hold and as the skin on my body burned away I was yanked backwards. Looking back, I saw a small opening that had been hidden by the trash bin. I was being ripped through the opening even though I understood my body was too big to fit through unharmed. If the flames on my flesh was agony, the feeling of shattering bone and torn flesh as I was being ripped through the opening was utter hell.

chapter TWENTY ONE

Renaud

Something whistled past my head immediately followed by a metallic high-pitched clicking sound. I could see the blinding light growing bigger and brighter as the metal beast smashed its way towards me. Murlin was screaming and cursing, but she was drowned out by everything happening around us. I could feel the sting of bullets entering my flesh, forcing me to grip the door and bite down hard not to scream out. I knew pain. We were old friends by now, but just because you know something intimately doesn't mean you're ready to be touched by it again. Two more bullets bit me in the shoulder and thigh because I could manage to utter the words "מתכונים."

"No, master!" Murlin whined as she sent wind towards them, barely slowly down the car. "Please don't command me to leave you!" I didn't have to see her face to feel her heartbreak as I could hear it in her voice. "No, please don't say it."

I was already dead. I might walk the earth but my body, like my soul, was long beyond saving and they couldn't truly kill me again. Turning, I forced my trembling hand to point at her and screamed "מתכונים." A bullet pierced my hand, shattering the bone and ripping through the flesh. My legs were buckling and as the shock started to take over I cried out again, "מתכונים." It wasn't magic, but a command in her language. The first language that she had ever learned and the last one that I had ever learned.

"Please no," she begged as my body quivered from the force of the bullet shattering their way through bone and flesh. "No," she pleaded, but she couldn't refuse my command.

"מתכונים," I ordered and like any good servant, she obeyed. I watched her transform from her human form into the savage animal that existed inside her. She was frozen, staring at me as she tried to fight the command but she couldn't refuse me. It was impossible for her to refuse my bidding, no matter how much she hated it.

Again, I repeated my command. "מתכונים." I watched her disappear from the alley. I wasn't sending her away to save her from the mobsters, but to save the mobsters from her. Besides, there was something I didn't like about the Wilson and William situation that I wanted her to watch over for me. My unfinished business here had too many parts for me to leave it unwatched and unprotected. he was the only one I could trust with this task.

I could see their silhouettes through the lights as they jumped out of the car and came running at me, guns blazing and fear etched on their faces.

"Get him," somebody called out as they fired in my direction. "I said get him," someone else screamed as two more shots whizzed by my head. This was the first time that I had ever been shot at. I had faced many evils, but never the cruelty of man. I had been one and felt heartbreak, but nothing like this.

I placed my hand against the cold steel door and whispered, "Recludam," and I heard a light click as the door popped open. I fell into the room, rolling down a small set of stairs. As my face hit the floor I muttered, "Et clausum close" and the door slammed shut followed by the click of the bolt sealing the door. I laid there for a minute trying to gather my thoughts and senses as they pounded on the door. My head was pounding and slow thick globs of black oozed out of the holes made by the bullets. I couldn't move my hand and my whole body felt stiff. If I was still in Hell, I would wake up tomorrow all healed, but I wasn't back in Hell and my healing wouldn't be so rapid. The pain was bearable, but limiting as I tried to will the pain away.

Looking around the room, it seemed uncharacteristically empty. It had the feeling of being used but not lived in, like a haunted house that the world had abandoned and yet something couldn't leave. It was dimly lit with low ceilings and crusty white-washed stone walls. Rough-cut beams ran one after the after on the ceiling with rusted steel poles placed along the edges. Weathered steel chairs that had been painted green with a round table sat in the middle. This wasn't exactly what I expected, but then again my criminal education came from 90s TV shows and in them the good guys always won. Clouds of smoke drifted everywhere and shards glass covered the floor. The smell of whisky that had been spilled all over was so strong it burnt my eyes and cigarettes had been left burning in the ashtrays. Forcing myself up on to my knees, the stones in the floor rocked from the pressure of my hands as I pushed myself upward. The pounding on the door was getting louder as they tried to smash their way in. I knew that eventually they would find a way, but in the meantime I could look for a way out.

I walked over to the table and lifted one of the remaining glasses. It felt cold to the touch. The ice hadn't even melted away yet. Taking a sip, I grabbed one of the lit cigarettes that were left behind and smoked it as I scanned the room. There was a makeshift bar which appeared to be made from an old record player. The kind that always seemed to be made from wood with gold sparkly cloth covering the speakers and always had the words "hi-fi" somewhere. I often wondered, what the hell was hi-fi anyway? I can't remember ever thinking "Damn, it's a good thing I have hi-fi" as I listened to my favorite bands growing up. On the corner stood a green glass bowl with tens and twenties in it. Tip jar, I guess even though for some strange reason I expected fifties and hundreds.

The makeshift bar had all the essentials. Snacks, booze, fresh ice, a small baseball bat, and one of those little money boxes with the standard nine digital number pads. You know the kind that they give first graders to place soft back with. Of course here when someone took a swing and hit a home run blood and teeth usually hit the floor. The ice seemed important though, because it wasn't melted and I couldn't find a fridge of freezer anywhere. I dropped my hand in the bowl, letting the cold numb my shattered hand as I pondered things. The black blood from me slowly started mingling with the ice until it looked like black soup. Red blood was meant for the living but when you were damned, like most things about you, it goes dark.

Three walls were stone and mortar, which didn't make a very successful escape route. Not even I could walk through stone, so if the occupants here slipped away it wasn't through them and certainly not through the door. Behind the bar was a single wooden door made from rough barn timber. Unlike the beams above my head, these were cut and aged to blend in with the decayed look of the room except forthe shiny new nails securing them. I made my way along the wall, looking for something that stood out from everything else, but I didn't see anything.

I went along the entire wall pushing and pulling, looking for a loose board, a handle, or even a trap-door, but found nothing. There wasn't even a creak when I applied pressure. I looked at the floor and the scuff marks in the dirt leading straight to the stone wall. Too many to be everyday traffic, but how do I open it? In the movies there was always a library with a bookshelf somewhere, but not here. Look for something out of place, I thought. I ran my hands along the wall trying to find something that I could push or pull that would force it open. Every door had to have a way of opening it, the same as every lock had a key. It was always just a matter of finding out how to open it.

I turned and scanned the room. The only thing that seemed strange was spindly bookshelf. It wasn't one of those thin, easy to break kinds and was made from solid oak with three shelves. I walked closer and realized that there were streaks in the dust and the footprints ran straight to it. I examined each shelf and the only thing I could find was the number 2314 on the bottom of the top shelf, but it didn't seem to have any meaning that I could think of. I scanned the shelf again, turning the knobs on the top thinking that maybe 2314 was the order to turn them, but nothing.

I went back to the bar and poured a glass of bourbon while I pondered this. I hadn't realized that the pounding on the door had stopped until I saw the orange line sizzling through the door. They had a sedaline torch and that would grant them entrance to my musty sanctuary. The slow, steady orange line was growing bigger and bigger and I still had no idea how I was going to escape. As the circle grew larger I knew that my time was running out. Desperately, I scanned the room searching for the meaning of the numbers 2314, but found nothing. If it was there it was beyond me. I sat on the little stool behind the bar and waited. I wasn't giving up without a fight, but the only real kind of fighting I knew how to do wasn't exactly pretty.

Being outnumbered would mean using uncontrolled magic to disable those who were hunting me, and that always had a severe price for everybody involved. I didn't want to have to kill them. The sins we do in this world follow us into the next life. I already knew my final destination when my business here was done, so adding more burdens to carry wasn't on my to-do list.

The money box was there in front of me and I thought it couldn't be that easy. The way out couldn't be hiding in plain view, but why not try it? I typed 2314 and waited. At first, nothing happened. The hole in the metal door was expanding as they continued to cut their way through. The floor vibrated slightly and a small chunk of stone and mortar popped inward. A three-foot by three-foot opening appeared in the wall, allowing cool damp air to fill the room. Damn sewer, I thought. Not exactly the way I wanted to make my escape, but I would rather run through crap then fight tooth and nail.

I peered into the darkness and listened in case somebody was lurking out of view. Based on the stench, I couldn't imagine anybody wanting to linger around but you could never tell for sure. The only sound I could hear was a hollow plopping noise that echoed in my direction, which I probably should have expected. After all, it was a sewer not a rose garden. I crouched down and scraped through the opening, dropping down a few feet onto the floor. It was too dark to see anything so I stood there, listening in all directions. There is something quite disturbing about all the little sounds that crop up when you are blind and surrounded by darkness. Most people fear monsters, but never truly know the kinds of things that are lurking right beside them.

I heard the pop of gun fire followed by little explosions of stone as they fired at the opening, trying to stop my escape. I side-stepped away from the opening and watched the bullets zinging into the sewer strike the wall like a spring rain. An arms-length away there was a dim blue light revealing another number pad. Rapidly, I typed 2314 hoping to hear the door close. A loud grinding noise slowly grew as the light from the doorway began to shrink to small lines around the edges.

"Get the door," someone screamed and then the unthinkable happened. I saw an arm slide through the crack, but flesh and bone can't stop a foot-deep block of stone. A loud shriek of agony filled my ears as the rough edges crushed his flesh. I watched as the fingers twitched and blood began to run down the wall. The fingers kept twitching like they were reaching out for help, but there wasn't any help on its way. The owner's whimper could be heard through the cracks around the door. A better man might have re-entered the code to open it, but I wasn't a better man so I ran into the darkness as I searched for my escape.

The ground beneath my feel was uneven and the water was so cold that my feet went numb. I could hear something in front of me, but had no idea what it could be. It sounded like chopping wood, but who would be chopping wood in a sewer. The stupid little childish fears I had had as a kid came to mind and wouldn't be tamed. Alligators and giant snakes living in the sewers hidden beneath the water coming right for me, or giant rats waiting to strike at any minute. The idea made me wanted to run on tip-toes, even though I doubtedthat any monsters hidden under the water would miss my steps.

I saw a dim flickering light down at the end of the tunnel. There was something about the way the shadows danced along the wall and seem to slither beneath the water that made me uneasy. What might be waiting there was scarier than anything. I had seen creatures so vile that just a single stare could turn your heart to stone and choke a man's courage. One of those creatures would come to collect me soon, I just hoped that they weren't at the end of the tunnel waiting for me. That day would come, I was aware of that. I didn't belong here and as long as I stayed, the balance between good and evil would be off. The world always wanted balance.

I was almost at the corner when I heard a child's voice whispering, "Daddy, get up. You can't die! Daddy, I need you!" As I walked closer I kept tight to the wall, slowing every step and trying to keep as quiet as possible. "Daddy, you know that you can't face the sunlight. We are children of darkness, not light. Daddy, don't die." Not even my heart was able to hear her cries and not feel something. What a child was doing in a sewer I had no idea, but she would have nothing to fear from me. I wasn't the type of monster who hurt children. That wasn't part of my business here and my business was all I cared about.

Turning the corner, I couldn't believe my eyes. Dismembered bodies were scattered everywhere. Arms, legs, and every other possible body part including a few decapitated heads were tossed in a pile resembling a small mountain of flesh. The smell of drying blood filled the air and a woman in white was slumped over one of the bodies. The man's body was charred and black with loose clumps of flesh dangling as the girl whispered, "Daddy, don't die. I don't want to walk the world alone. I need you, daddy."

She turned and her eyes glowed as her fangs dropped. This wasn't any mere brokenhearted child. Her fists clenched and she howled, "Save him!" Her eyes were filled with sadness and when she stood her wrists were covered in blood. "Save him," she pleaded. She lifted her arms and showed me just how big the gashes in her wrists were. "I tried to feed him, but it's not working. Save him." I saw fingers move then I realized that the body lying in front of her was still alive. His fingers were moving and his legs shook. Considering the state of his body, the fact that he was alive was a miracle and it was a good thing for him that the shock kicked in.

Vampire were dangerous at the best of times, never mind an injured one. I slowly walked towards her trying to think of the best spell for this situation, but for once I couldn't think of the right word. Normally I would use a fire spell, but there was a dying man lying helpless. The kind of spell it would take to kill her would burn a mortal man to ashes. Standing there in a blood-covered dress, she looked so helpless that I felt sorry for her.

"Save him," she pleaded again. I didn't have any idea what I could do to help the poor bastard since she was feeding him her blood and that should have healed him as fast as a deer running from a hunter's aim. "You must save him."

I tried to understand why a vampire would be pleading for a human's life. Humans were food in their eyes and that was all they saw. A blood bank that they had to hunt down. Such an odd development. Normally, it would be touching to see such emotion from a monster, but there were so many bodies. Unlike most of us, vampires didn't pay for their sins in the afterlife as they just turned to ash when they were finally destroyed.

"I can't save him," I said, still trying to decide what I was going to do next.

She howled, "You must save him."

I was about to respond when I saw them. The burnt corpse's head was slowly twisting around and I saw the fangs. This beast wasn't begging to save a human, but her mate. Even this idea seemed strange to me, since vampires were self-serving creatures. I had met one once before my family's curse had claimed me. I killed one defending my brother, but to save his life I traded his soul. At the time, I told myself that I was trading my life for his, but I ended up trading his soul as well as my own. We both lost that day.

"Flamma," I screamed as I tossed a handful of blue flame towards her. It hit her chest, sending a wave of flame splattering on either side of her as she rolled backwards into the wall. I tossed two more balls of fire at her, each connecting and starting an explosion of fire dancing along her body.

I was ready to strike again when I heard a grown man say, "Renaud, stop it! Kill me if you want, but don't destroy my creature." I froze in place as my brother's voice screeched, "Don't destroy her!"

I was stuck in the past and the past always had a price. Mind you, the price that bit me was a 5"5, weighed 114 lbs. and drove her fangs straight into my neck. My blood boiled as her fangs broke through the skin and I felt the burning of her bite, but she got the worst of it. I am not human anymore and her kind fed on the living. My blood is poison to both the living and the dead. I didn't have to force her off since the burning in her mouth and the sheer pain drove her away.

It took me some time to steady my legs and I felt lightheaded from the blood streaming out of the wounds in my neck. I whispered again, "Flamma" and prepared to finish this distasteful business once and for all when Harrow looked up at me. It was that same look he always had when he was in trouble. Those sorrow-filled eyes always made me throw away common sense and defend him. How many times did I find myself face down in the dirt trying to fight off someone bigger than me because of something he did? He was usually in the wrong, but he was my brother and I would defend him until the end. He was the guy that flirted with your girlfriend and in rare cases even stole her away, but I was like his unspoken guardian and why should today be any different?

She was cowering over him as I cleared the thought of killing her from my mind. It wasn't easy to do because, like most people, I feared vampires. They were more than just dangerous, but also cruel creatures by nature. That was apparent now especially as she crouched over him, whipping her hair back in preparation to defend her mate to the bitter end. Her cold eyes glowed as she watched me, occasionally darting around as she searched for a weapon. Gripping a large round stone, I was certain that if I came close to her she'd instinctively smash my head in.

Voices from behind me caught my attention. They were just whispers, but there were too many of them and they were coming toward us. Looking around the corner I saw six men coming our way.

"There will be more coming," I whispered. "I will distract them and keep them away. When a stray comes by, take him and save Harrow." I immediately ran out towards the small group, still trying to figure out if I was the loyal brother or just plain stupid.

chapter TWENTY TWO

Jenny

It seemed like hours since The King had left Maria and I in the darkened room. Maria never broke orders and spoke and I was sore and bored. I was always the center of attention. The woman every other woman wanted to be and every man wanted to be with. Well, most men anyway. She looked innocent as she lay there staring blankly at the wall. There were plenty of little stains and specks to stare at, but I don't think that was what she doing. She seemed to zone out like she was hiding inside her mind from the real world. The only sound in the room was an annoying ticking from the clock hanging on the wall. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and needed something to distract me so I forced a conversation.

I leaned forward and whispered, "What are you doing here? You look smart enough to know that this kind of life isn't going to get you anywhere. $40 blow jobs in back rooms aren't any sort of job security or a way to earn a living."

At first she kept staring blankly at the wall like she hadn't heard a word I said. She was a pretty little thing with bright eyes and what Wilson would call a sexy smile. He always told the same story about why he loved a smile so much. It was one of the reasons he wanted and bought me, he said. When he was a child, his older cousin dated a woman that looked more like a caricature than a woman he would say. She had lips that were so big she could easily be a cartoon character and in his eyes she was the ugliest creature ever, until she smiled. The room glowed when she smiled and he'd never seen anything more beautiful than her. Wilson was around fifteen years old and he asked his cousin why he stayed with her when there were so many other better looking women out there that wanted him. As Wilson told it he was the star of everything he did, from sports all the way to music. A real ladies' man and the ultimate catch. His cousin just looked at him and answered that when she smiled there wasn't a more beautiful woman anywhere in the world, so all he needed to do was make her happy so that she would always smile. It was a win-win situation. If she was always happy she would never leave him and always smile. If she always smiled he'd always have the most beautiful woman on his arm. He had died in a drinking and driving accident shortly after, leaving Wilson only ever seeing his successful, popular side. It was easy to idolize an idea when time couldn't add in failures and disappointments.

She didn't even look up when she finally responded.

"I am here waiting to die." She didn't move a single muscle as she mumbled, "The problem is that death isn't coming fast enough." I hadn't felt so alone in my life as I did right now and couldn't help but wonder if this was what my future was going to be like. Broken, abused, and just waiting to die.

Our conversation was cut short as the metal door burst open, The King charging in. There were two men behind him dragging a much smaller man, but with the sudden explosion of bright light I couldn't see his face, only a silhouette. His hands and feet were in chains as they threw him to the floor.

"It seems like it's our lucky day, Mrs. Bailey," The King laughed as he paced around the room. "Now I will admit, capturing this Renaud fellow was a very expensive endeavor, but we got him! It cost money and lives, but we cornered the bastard and in the end, he didn't even put up a fight."

He kicked the metal stand Maria was on with a big kick and snarled, "Get out of here girl. I got work to do here." Maria responded like a good little robot and scurried away out the door. Everybody had a story and something told me that hers was one of those sad complicated ones that would get a TV special with everybody commenting on how sweet and innocent she was.

They brought in a chair, letting it scrape against the floor. A big man grabbed Renaud by the hair and drove him into it, forcing his whole body to shake. There was no fear in him though. Not that I could see, at least. He looked beaten, but he didn't cower or drop his head like I would. He sat there with a sly grin on his face like there was a big joke and only he knew about it.

He placed his hands on the table across from me and said, "Jenny, I found you. I have been looking for you all day." The only thought I had was for Renaud not to push this guy because it wouldn't end well for either of us. If he was aware of this fact, then he didn't act like it. He just kept smiling.

Slamming his fist on the table, The King snorted, "You haven't been looking for her!" He pointed in my direction. "She has been with me the whole time." Pounding on the table again he huffed, "She is here because of you and your big mouth. You put Wilson in the hospital, too!"

Drumming his thumbs on the tabletop Renaud kept a smile on his face as he chirped, "Not me. You have the wrong man, I think."

Slipping on a pair of brass knuckles, he drove his fist into the back of Renaud's head.

Sending his face crashing into the tabletop, The King muttered, "Don't lie now, tough guy. After what you did my brother, you have a lot of answer for." Johnny was leaning against the wall, but kept bouncing back and forth as the sweat dripped off his forehead. Renaud's face was still lying against the tabletop as a small pool of blood formed in front of him. I didn't understand it when he burst into laughter, still tapping his thumbs.

"What do you find so funny."

"Oh, just how life has a few surprises in store for you," Renaud said as he laughed and laughed. "Just wait until the man you're really searching for comes knocking at your door." He tapped his hand on the table and snickered, "When you hear that, send the big slower guy over there. Just don't expect him to come back in one piece."

"Who is coming after me? The devil himself?"

"No, the one that hunts you won't be that kind."

Slamming his fist onto the table The King demanded, "Who is he?" Looking over at his little brother he asked, "Johnny, come over here." Slowly, Johnny came over to the table. His whole body seemed tight as he stepped in front of Renaud. "Now is that not the bastard that told you to bring me a message or not?"

His eyes went big as saucers as he stuttered, "It looks like the same man, only there is something different about him. I can't put my finger on it, though." Johnny didn't just look confused but scared as he grabbed Renaud's face, twisting it around to get a better look. "He looks older somehow."

"Or maybe it's the wrong man," said Renaud. "The one you want is a lot meaner than me and he'll likely feed on you." It was scary just how crazy he was acting. Maybe it was part of his plan to throw them off their game. It looked like it was working.

"I can't say for sure, but he looks a lot like the man that I met that night." He kept inching back bit by bit. "He just seems different somehow."

"Yes, different because it's a different man."

The King seemed confused as he let the hand with the bloodied brass knuckles fall to his side.

"Are you mad?" he asked. The King didn't seem confident as Renaud looked up from the pool of blood with a grin. I hadn't noticed it until now, but the pool in front of him was a thick black liquid and not regular blood. Running his finger through the black liquid, it was obvious that he was trying to decide if it was an illusion of some kind.

"Probably, yes" was all he said as he looked up at the kid. "I didn't ask to involved in this, but you pulled me into it and you don't even realize that the true monster is going to be coming and bringing Hell with him."

"Mrs. Bailey, is this Renaud Barthélémy? You have known him longer than anybody, if I understand correctly."

"Yes, that is him," I said, feeling like I was betraying him as the words left my lips. I don't know why I felt guilty because he wasn't denying it. It wasn't like I was selling him out. It just felt like somehow, by confirming who he was, I was loading the gun that they would use to shoot him. I had hurt him and in many people's eyes I was the most selfish bitch that ever walked the face of the earth, but I had never done anything that I thought would lead to someone's death.

"Ok, we know who you are and we know that you and that bitch of yours, Murlin broke my little brother's arm and threatened me to save Mrs. Bailer here," he said as he pointed at me.

Renaud slowly stood up, allowing the chains to dangle from his hands.

"Yes, call Murlin a bitch and see what that gets you." Johnny leapt back as the words left Renaud's lips. Murlin had always scared me, but she seemed to terrify Johnny.

Renaud snickered, "Oh, I believe a girl broke your arm but it wasn't Murlin. She would have taken the arm, not just broke it."

The King was still examining the black liquid on the end of his finger like a child examining a new bug. "Is this your blood? You got some kind of disease or something?"

"'Or something' is more like it," Renaud responded as he wiped it from his nose and mouth. "You truly don't want any part of this. Trust me."

"I need you alive for now, at least." The King said as he pointed at Johnny, "Go get the doctor." Johnny didn't have a second thought about high-tailing it out of there. He didn't look like a coward, but he acted like one. The door closed behind him with a loud click. Turning, he looked at Renaud, "You've got some kind of infection or blood poisoning, I think. It's nasty business."

He looked sad, not sick but now it seemed to me that he returned home to die and not steal away the company that his brother built. It wasn't greed that pulled him home, but a need. tragedy dragged him home like angry mother drags home a naughty child.

"You're dying." The words left my mouth before I could stop them.

Renaud was still standing there smiling, "No I'm not." A dim stream of sunshine broke through the meshed window, striking the floor. "I am not the one that will die here today." He sat down and looked down at his like he was deep in thought.

I reached over and touched his hand. It was hot like a sun burn. His skin was sandpaper, even though it appeared as soft as a baby's skin. "Are you ok?"

"I'm just waiting for the sun to go down. That's when all the fun starts to happen," he whispered as he pulled his hand away. He started drumming his thumbs on the tabletop like we weren't even there. He had always loved his sunsets. It was probably the only thing in the world that he thought was more beautiful than me when we were kids. Anytime I couldn't find him hanging out with Mike, all I had to do was walk to the river. That is where I always found him, just sitting there watching the sunset.

"And what do you think is going to happen when the sun goes down?"

"Hell comes looking for you. You and I aren't the biggest monsters in this city. No, he will be just waking up and I imagine he is going to be in a mad mood. A very bad mood and I think he will blame me."

"And why is he coming after me then?" The King seemed confused and agitated. He was the kind of guy who saw himself as smarter than most and controlled everything in his world.

"You have me, so to kill me he is going to have to destroy you." The constant drumming on the tabletop seemed like it would never end and made everything seem more real somehow. That constant, annoying thumping sound made the danger seem closer than ever.

The King dropped his hand and covered his thumbs. "And who exactly is our uninvited guest?" His cold grey eyes glared as he added, "I would hate to be rude and unprepared to receive company."

"My brother is coming," was all Renaud said. "He'll storm your castle and soon there will be a new King."

"Renaud, your brother is dead. He died over fifteen years ago." I couldn't help but to blurt out this fact.

"I know. We are all dead, but he is still coming and he won't be happy." He began to laugh madly at this point, almost dividing the room. He was slapping the table and it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. It looked like he had lost it, but I was starting to think that might be a good thing.

Gripping Renaud around the throat, the King demanded through clenched teeth, "What do you find so funny?"

Laughing so hard that his face was red, Renaud gasped for air and said, "I was just thinking that this is the first time I'll need a priest. The only time I need Mike is not to save my soul, but to give me a quote from the bible about when the dead walk the earth that the end is near, so that I'll have a good punch line." He was still chuckling as he added, "And he would probably have one, or maybe I should have spent more time praying in church rather than staring down Jenny's blouse as a kid."

Looking at me, The King muttered. "If this is your hero Mrs. Bailey, I think you will be with me for a long time."

Renaud whispered, "Recludam," as the clink of chains jingled and the cuffs on his hands popped open. He jumped up and struck the king in the chest screaming, "Revolt!" The blow sent him flying across the room where he struck the wall, the air from his chest. He stayed there with a dull look in his eyes as he tried to get back onto his feet. I don't even think he realized what was happening, only that somehow he ended up kissing a cement wall.

A younger man burst through the steel door with a long, thin silver blade in his hand. As his head entered the room Renaud cried out, "Clausa" as the door slammed on him. A loud shrill shriek followed by curses echoed and I saw his wrist sticking through the edge of the doorway. Renaud ran to the door and opened it slightly, pushing the man's damaged wrist out of the doorway and driving his body against it, forcing it shut and whispering, "Clauditis." There was a loud click and he turned to face me, only to find a three-foot piece of wood connecting with his face. He didn't just fall, but dropped to his knees, tumbling facedown to the floor.

The King kicked him repeatedly screaming, "Son of a bitch!" Watching his temper tantrum explode I could almost feel the pain as Renaud's ribs broke one by on with each strike. "You son of a bitch!" Finally, he stopped as Renaud's motionless body laid there spilling contaminated blood on the floor.

Two men came in and pointing to me he snarled, "Get her out of here!" As they dragged me away in chains all I could think of was that all the rumors and legends about the Barthélémy family were true. The problem was that there were so many; each one scarier than the one before it. Was Jade going to end up a victim of the legendary curse too?

chapter TWENTY THREE

Mike

A loud banging noise on the passenger-side window scared the hell out me. I looked up to see Irene and William looking through the glass, smiling.

"Did you and Renaud tie one on last night? It must have been one hell of bender because the cops are all over the place," William said with that same condescending grin he always had. I can't remember how many times I prayed for the strength to resist knocking him on his ass. He was such a little turd that by this point he didn't need to do anything to get under my skin. He just needed to look at me and grin. Holding up a cup of coffee, Irene pointed to the lock.

"Want something to wake you up?"

I still had the image of Renaud and Harrow firmly in place as I unlocked the door and slowly opened it. I had always thought that things were different. That karma took Harrow's humanity away. it was like the world's way of balancing the books, but the memory he passed on to me changed things. I had always thought that the evil was integrated into his soul like adding salt to water, or that it had seduced him like a lover's touch in the night, but now I could see it for what it was. Renaud chose his life over his eternal soul and he was not violated by darkness, but had embraced by it.

"Mike, are you listening?" Irene inquired with her schoolgirl smile. Forcing the Styrofoam cup of coffee into my hands she asked, "Have you seen Renaud? He was supposed to be at the meeting this morning, but never showed up."

It took a few seconds to clear my head. I didn't feel drowsy like I would have expected. I felt damn amazing to be honest, just like Harrow said I would. I still had that image on my mind replaying the scene over and over until it felt like a rerun of a classic film, though. The coffee smelt strong and alive and that first taste was like an orgasm in my mouth.

"No, the last time I saw Renaud was the day we were at Jenny's place."

"Oh, I thought he was with you after that. I guess old wounds die hard." Irene was a soft-hearted girl,even if Nathanial always touted that her dark side would blind you if you ever let it out. I had to agree. Even if he didn't see it, Renaud still carried a torch for her. The greatest threat was that the last time she only broke his heart and he ran for fifteen years. This time if she was seriously hurt or even worse, if she died, it might actually kill him.

William leaned in and pointed across the street asking, "What happened over there? There are six cop cars and they even brought the hounds out." His heart was pounding like a drum. I mean it was so loud that my ears hurt and I was pretty sure that I could hear his blood being pushed through his veins. I am not sure how to describe it, but everything was magnified along with the colors all around me. Laughing, he added "It's the area, you know? It's run down and all the riffraff gather here." He took a sip of his coffee, "How did you miss the action? You were right across the street from it."

Looking into the alley, the walls of the building on the left side were smashed and scraped all the way through and the coroner was trying to put all the pieces of some poor bastard into a bag. It seemed strange that the only thing left of the man's end was a faded cowboy boot. Would anybody mourn him or miss him? Harrow had a busy night even after he left me. I could smell dried blood, but it was probably from the alley up the street. That's where the cops should be looking. Harrow had a heyday there, and there was so much blood.

"So what happened?" William demanded.

Keeping my eye on the other alley trying to decide how the cops missed it, I responded "I must have slept through it."

"You were that drunk?"

"I guess I was," I said. I sure as hell wasn't going to tell Irene that her dead cousin murdered them all looking for her other cousin's missing ex-girlfriend. Trying to change the subject I asked, "How's Wilson doing with Jenny being missing?"

Irene went to say something, but stopped as William jumped into answer, "Oh, he's fine. You know Wilson isn't the emotional sort. Rumor has it that Jenny was having an affair with some gangster-type and when he caught them, the guy pounded him and she ran off with him. I actually thought that it might be Renaud and when he went missing... well you know, it looks suspicious."

"I truly doubt that."

"Seriously. Wilson can't remember the man's face, but he swears he caught her cheating like a common whore. You know she isn't exactly ladylike. We all know her reputation."

I remembered the woman Jenny was. Selfish and capricious, but she was never a whore. Well, at least not the way William made her out to be. She wanted to devote herself to one man and that was Renaud, but she made one mistake and it changed everything for her. That's all it takes sometimes. One mistake that you can never forgive yourself for and no matter what you do, you'll always live up to the image in your head and not the one you what you always wanted to become. If Jenny became the kind of woman William said she was, which I won't verify or deny, then Wilson made her into it.

With this thought in my head, all I could think about was the sound of the blood pumping through his veins and how easily it would be to just reach out and snap his neck. I didn't need to see my arms to know that they were rippling so much that my skin felt tight. I was stronger than ever before and trembled as the thought of how much I could hurt him kept entering my mind like a racecar following its way right back to the place where it started, over and over. I was about to tell William exactly what I thought and where he could go when common sense took over.

"I think I should go find Renaud," I said as I slid over to the driver's seat. William went to say something stupid, but before he could pollute the air I snapped, "I should go. I will call you when I find him." I closed the door and slowly drove off, watching them disappear in the rear-view mirror.

I passed the alley from the night before. It looked like nothing had happened. No bodies or blood of any kind. It looked too clean, actually. Even the trash that was scattered on the alley floor appeared to be placed there and not dropped or stepped on. The large rusty green trash bin was tipped over and leaning against the wall on the other side from where it had been. It was not just tipped, but thrown hard enough to shatter the brick to pebbles where it connected, but there wasn't a single body or drop of blood anywhere. I could smell the blood though. It had this rotten salty aroma that stood out from the stench of garbage and attached itself to me. Harrow might be able to move the bodies and clean up the pools of blood, but it still existed hidden in the cracks and crannies that ran everywhere in this alley.

As I drove off trying to outrun the sweet smell I couldn't help but wonder what Harrow did to me. It wasn't natural and even if it made me feel like a god, I wasn't one. I was just a mortal man who seemed to be stained like ink on a white sweater. He said that it would wear off, but the only real question was when would it and how long would it take?

I decided that I needed to see Wilson. I know that most men in my line of work will stop by the hospital to see one of their flock out of genuine concern, but my concern wasn't for him. My concern was for Jenny and Harrow. Jenny because she was missing and Harrow because I set a fire under him that would burn the city to ashes if I didn't find her soon. I had no idea how I was going to get Wilson to come clean. He wasn't exactly the worst guy out there, but he wasn't the most honest or moral one either. I didn't know what I was going to do, but he was going to tell me what I needed to know. Better me then having to answer Harrow. Last night was a lesson in itself that one always tells Harrow what he wants to know otherwise it will cost them an arm and a leg.

I made my way towards the glass doors that lead into the emergency room. I don't know why, but I haven't liked the hospital much since the reconstruction. It was all part of the modernization trend. They threw in a wall of glass dividing the city by the type of care rather than the actual area you lived in. It just didn't make any sense. Damn government wasted too much money making the hospital look like a piece of art rather than a place you can actually get help.

I stepped through the doors and headed down the long hallway. Somebody must have thought that that best way to make the place seem warm and inviting was to have ugly green walls and beige tile. It was the ugliest setup that I had ever seen. I didn't know why, but I liked the old look. That 1970s feel with the off-white tiles that always looked dirty and the artificial looking wood on the walls that looked more like a bowling alley floor then paneling. It even had those long brown runners with diamond shape in it. That's when our health care was the envy of everybody, but now it looks warm and inviting depending on who you talk to.

The room to Wilson's room was wide open and he was sitting in his bed reading the business section of the morning news. For a man whose wife went missing, he seemed overly content as he sipped his coffee and shook the paper so he could see it better. His face was still swollen with bruises and gashes everywhere, but he looked a lot better than he had earlier. The day I found him lying on the floor of his den I was certain that he was a dead man, but now it all looked so superficial. There had been so much blood though that I was positive bones had been broken and that I'd be giving him his last rights, not watching him read the paper like nothing happened at all.

"Oh Mike, you old dog! I thought that you would never come to talk to me," he said as his raised his eyes from the newspaper. The sunshine falling through the window sent a blinding glare shooting up off the freshly-waxed floor.

The room was empty as far as I could tell which would make what I was planning on doing a lot more private and easier to do.

"Sorry, I've been busy," I said as I stepped into the room, closing the door behind me. Luckily, there weren't any nurses or orderlies around.

Chuckling, he added "I guess you were busy with Renaud and catching up." He folded the paper and set it on the wide windowsill, groaning as he forced himself to sit up. "I know that seeing old friends after such a long time apart can steal all your time so quickly."

"Where is Jade?" I asked. "I thought that she would be here seeing how banged up you were when they brought you in."

"Oh she comes and she goes like a yo-yo. Keeps going to the police station to harass them about finding her mother. If they don't find her soon, I think Jade will start searching every nook and crannyherself until she finds her."

What an ass was all I could think. He wasn't even trying to hide the fact that he didn't care where Jenny was.

"So I've heard a rumor that Jenny ran off with another man. It must be hard for a girl to hear such lies about her mother."

He snapped, "It's no lie Mike." Pointing to his face he continued, "Do you think I would do this to myself?" His heart was beating hard as he slapped the bedcovers, "I know that you and Jenny go way back, but she and her new man pounded the hell out of me and emptied out the safe before running off to Toronto." He was red faced with anger as he pointed, "She's nothing more than a common whore!"

I clamped hold of two of his fingers and applied pressure, watching his eyes water and his teeth clench as a small cracking sound started. "You broke my fucking fingers, Mike!" He was trying to break my grip with his free hand, but he wasn't nearly powerful enough.

"Tell me what really happened or I'll tear them off too, Wilson. If you lie to me I will know." I applied just a bit more pressure, listening to the sound of the bones breaking in his hand. "Tell me what really happened, Wilson. I am the friendly interrogator. You don't want the other one asking these same questions."

His heart was speeding faster and faster as I added more strength and he went to scream out. I don't know what came over me, but without even a thought I snapped hold of his throat and grunted, "Lie and I will tear your throat out."

"I swear to you, Mike. She ran off with some guy."

"You mean some guy like Renaud? Isn't that what you told William? That you thought it was him?" I clamped hold of his other hand and applied as much pressure as I could. "Renaud was with me when the whole thing occurred."

Wilson was squealing as he whined, "I can't tell you what really happened because he will kill me. I swear Mike, he won't just stop with me. He will take Jade. He will force her to do inhuman things, Mike." Weeping he added, "I can't change anything. If I could, God as my witness, I would never have done it."

"What did you do, Wilson?" I was increasing the pressure and ashamed to admit that I liked it. He ruined Jenny and now that she was all used up he just tossed her away. It seemed like nothing to apply such vice-like force and Wilson grunted in agony, "What did you do?"

"It's not my fault," he whined, "If Renaud hadn't returned, none of this would have happened. It's not my fault!"

I demanded again. "What did you do?"

"It was just a bad business deal, that's all. Just one wrong choice that's all it was. It's this Renaud's fault. If he hadn't comeback, everything would have worked out and we would be millionaires."

I slapped him across the face, breaking his nose in the process. Blood was pouring out like a waterfall and he went flying back into his bed. "What did you do?" I snapped.

He was weeping, his hands over his face."I made a deal with The King, Danny Carminati." It made sense now. The morning that Jenny went missing it had been mobsters that I had seen leaving the parking lot. Jenny must have been in the trunk of the car that passed us. That's why they stopped. They were deciding if they should scoop up Renaud too. It all made sense. They were black mailing him, but Wilson didn't seem to be concerned at all.

"What was the deal," I inquired, readying my fist.

He flinched, "I made a bad deal. A very bad deal."

Slapping him in the face again I retorted, "What was the bad deal, you bastard?"

"I used Jenny as collateral." Weeping he snorted, "Nathanial was dead and William was going to destroy the company. The company I helped build. My blood, sweat, and tears went into building it and it was going to die so I used Jenny to borrow money from The King. It was a done deal until Renaud showed up."

"Did she know?" a voice emanated from behind me. "Did my mother know you were trading her like she was... like she was some kind of dollar store whore?" His daughter didn't even wait for an explanation. She stormed out, running through the halls like she couldn't escape fast enough.

Looking up, Wilson pleaded. "Jade, it's not as bad as it sounds. It was just a mistake!"

chapter TWENTY FOUR

Harrow

Life doesn't always go the way one imagines it would. All I ever wanted was to grow up. Knowing that you are going to die from a young age makes simply growing up as big a dream as any. When I was younger, I once walked through the cancer wing of a children's hospital and I was ashamed by their courage. They knew they were dying, or at least that most of them would never have an opportunity to become adults, but they smiled and laughed so whole-heartedly. I had always wished that I had that kind of strength. To smile and find happiness in everyday, always wondering if tomorrow might be their last.

I don't know why, but seeing Renaud again made me think of the past. He certainly wasn't the man I grew up with anymore. Then again, I don't think any of us truly were. He died for me. Stepped in and took my place the day he told Mihaela to save me. I should be grateful. After all, he had to face my demons and I know very well that he paid a steep price, but seeing him again brought back all the guilt. The military and counselors called it Survivors Guilt, but what happened to him wasn't an accident. Our story was an educated gamble. I threw the dice looking for double sixes, and Renaud's love and loyalty were the high score. I won the bet, but paralyzing guilt told me I lost the game.

The bodies of the soldiers I had dismembered were piled and organized like wood. I prefer to think of them as soldiers then just bad men in a terrible situation. I can justify victims of war easier than misguided men who paid a terrible price following a power hungry tyrant's commands. It was a lie I know, but if you tell yourself a lie often enough soon you are forced to believe it's the truth and then it's easier to look in the mirror. I grabbed a head and examined it. His forehead was thick and rigid, making him look more like a Neanderthal than a man. He had wide eyes and thick lips. Definitely too ugly to be a lady's man, but I was almost certain if I were to track down the rest of his components that I would find a giant muscular frame. He wasn't sent for brain power, that's for sure. Breaking my own rules was going to have a severe price, though. If they were missed, we would be forced to move to a new city. That was the only way we could truly be safe.

Sitting up, I heard a soft swishing sound as the burnt pieces of skin sloughed off my body falling to the floor like sand. Brushing my arms, I could still feel fragments of dead skin and a few slightly rough scars under my hands. It was a strange feeling to touch the baby soft skin that formed to replace the dead parts, yet also the damaged sections that still existed. It would be quite some time before I was completely healed, but I was presentable. Well, if one could call a naked vampire sitting in a dark, damp alley presentable.

A scuffling noise from the entrance of the tunnel caught my attention. A blurred figure was walking towards me, dragging something behind them. My eyes still hadn't healed yet so there was a haze all around me. It would take some time before I could hear a rodent's footsteps 100 feet away in the darkness or hear the hairs on its back as they scraped together. It took me a few moments to realize that it was Mihaela and that she was dragging a body behind her.

Dropping it in front of me, she whispered, "Daddy, you must eat if you are going to heal."It was a child. A helpless child who had happened to step too close to an opening where Mihaela was on the prowl. "Oh Daddy, don't look at me that way. You need to eat something if you are going to get strong."

"We live by only feeding on the diseased and the corrupt." The girl lying unconscious on the floor looked so young and helpless. She couldn't have been more than 15 years old and despite her choice in clothing, which was a black miniskirt and a loose-fitting top and no bra, she seemed rather normal.

"If you are going to recover quickly you need to feed on young viral blood. Older, damaged people will slow down the recovery." She was kneeling over the young woman's body, running her fingers through her hair and revealing piercings on the girl's cheeks, lips and nose. The young thing looked like she had been attacked by a nail gun. "She is a bad girl Daddy, so that makes it alright."

"Mihaela what could this girl have done that is so bad that she deserves this fate?" She looked so young that I couldn't imagine killing her just because I needed to feed. Mind you, she did look scrumptious and delightful. There was this thin little vein that poked out of her neck as she laid there motionless.

"She was naughty, Daddy. She was smoking and kissing a boy, letting the young man touch her all over."

She had blood on her lips. Just a faint trace, but she was close enough that it made her breath smell so sweet. "She is still young enough that she can live a good life. She can still change her life around. Teenagers are meant to be stupid. I know, I was one."

Grabbing my face on either side, she kissed me and whispered, "You must feed. It will take more than just her to heal you." Giggling she asked, "Is there a school close by?"

I snapped, "No! We don't hunt children!"

A smile filled her face as she ran her finger along her lips, "Then feed on this girl and save the younger ones," as she took her finger and made a small gash in the girl's neck. My arms trembled as the aroma filled the room, striking a blow to my self-control. "Feed on this one now," she snarled. "Or you will bath in the blood of children! I am still your maker."

The craving was stronger than I was. In my moment of weakness, I slowly bent over and licked the warm blood, enjoying the sweet twangy taste. Her skin was soft as my lips slowly connected with her flesh. I pushed my fangs into her, feeling the skin give way as I forced them in deeper. The girl moaned as my fangs dug in and Mihaela shushed the girl, who immediately calmed down and stared at me with these empty brown eyes. The blood gushed out like oil and I felt like I was drilling for oil, only this oil wasn't black. No, it was warm and sweet and after denying my urges for so long it tasted better then I remembered. MorallyI knew it was wrong, but this was the only way to quench my thirst and will away the hunger. For so long I had been living on rice. For the first hour after eating I'd feel full, but then it was like I had never ate at all.

Her body shook uncontrollably as I drained all her blood. I don't know why age changes things for me, but it does. If I were feeding on an older whore with a drug habit or a dying man with disease flowing through his body, I wouldn't feel guilt or turmoil. This girl wasn't suffering and her life wasn't beyond saving, so I felt guilt and shame. Her whole body trembled and I could feel her pulse slowing as I drained her bit by bit. Her time was almost over and her sacrifice would mean my survival. It still wasn't right though. Even if I didn't kill for fun as her heart made its last attempt to push blood though her body I knew that I had just stolen her life.

"We must find Murlin," I said as I wiped my mouth.

"Let's just leave the city and this war behind, Daddy. This isn't our battle."

"It is my battle. I stirred up the hornets' nest. I must finish this."

Running her fingers slowly through my hair she whispered, "Grab your brother and daughter and let's leave this dying city behind. You don't have to stay for the funeral." There was always something so relaxing about her touch. Each stroke sent a tingling sensation all over that always made me just want lay there for hours. "Let's run away like lovers, Daddy. Let's just go. No planned destination, just us and the open road."

"No, I need to find Murlin and track down Renaud."

"I will help you save him because I love you, but he scares me." I was well aware that she feared magic, especially Renaud's magic. At their first meeting he did the unthinkable in her eyes. He killed her creator, who was like a god to her. He was a thousand years old. Not the oldest of our kind, but certainly one of the first. Up until the day he decided in a jealous rage to kill me, he considered himself godlike. Renaud made sure that he would never feel godlike again.

A giggle sang out, pushing away the silence. Mihaela stood up and dug out her phone and opened the screen. The light from the phone accented the sparkle in her eyes and the smile on her face until it glowed. "I have a full menu arranged, Daddy. Let's eat, then we can find Murlin and your brother."

chapter TWENTY FIVE

Renaud

"Is that all you got?" I spat out as his fist connected again. Each time they hit me the tingling inside me head grew like a spider web and the pain became a little less. It was always followed up by an even harder one blow, but that was to be expected.

"Is that hard enough for you?" he snarled. Before I could answer he punched me so hard it rocked the chair back. "Is it, boy?"

The chair rocked forward, forcing my whole body to jerk and tremble. This beating was nothing compared to what I had already been through over the past fifteen years. I'm not one of those idiots who believes that pain makes them stronger or handling torture with elegance somehow makes it noble. I've just have been through much worse for a lot longer.

"Oh come on now. I'm quite disappointed. I thought that crime lords were professionals." A loud clapping sound echoed as his hand struck me again. Blood was flowing out of every place possible and the side of my head burned like hell. "Okay, I'll give you that one. That one caught my attention."

"Just sign over the company. You don't even want it, why are you making me hurt you so much?" The man looked like he was ready to fall over from exhaustion. They called him "The Crippler", but I'm sure that his reputation was earned decades ago. He was a big man in his late fifties who could only hobble along with the support of braces. When he first entered the room I thought that he was one of those lawyer types. He carried an old scuffed up leather suitcase and a clipboard with a typed paper with a letterhead that said "Carminati Paper Company Inc." He looked tough, but used-up. Like a rope that had frayed edges and was about to snap. At first, he just sat there across from me and slid the paper over like any lawyer would.

Passing a pen across the table he said, "Now Mister Barthélémy, I'm aware that this isn't exactly the way you usually conduct business and it's not the way we prefer to do business, but showing up the way you did makes life a little bit complicated."

Being the charming bastard that I was, I chuckled at that.

"You think your life is complicated. Try sitting on this side of the table."

He burst out laughing. "Oh yes, I think you must be quite overwhelmed by everything that's happening." Leaning back in his chair he crossed his arms, "You stepped right into the middle of something big, Mister Barthélémy. The King has invested a lot of money into buying the company and then you stepped in and stole it right out from under him."

"I am stealing the company out from under him? Is that how he sees it?" Of course that's how they were going to spin it. I was making them steal it back. The strangest thing was I didn't have any attachment to it, but it seemed to me that the only thing keeping Jenny safe right now was the fact that they didn't own it and were too afraid that hurting her would make things worse.

"That's how The King sees it." Opening his hands, he said "It doesn't matter if it's the truth or not. The King sees things his own way and once he decides something, nothing can change his mind."

Grabbing a hold of the collar of his shirt I pulled the fat bastard closer.

"Tell 'your highness' that soon enough he will meet an even bigger monster. Whoever owns my brother's company won't matter then."

"This might be a problem. A big problem for you, Mister Barthélémy. The King never backs down and right now he wants this business taken care of." I took the liberty of breaking The Crippler's nose and that's when he stopped being a spineless lawyer and put on his big boy pants. That's what brought us here.

The beatings went on for what seemed like hours. The poor bastard seemed to be getting the worst of it since hewas used to beating mortal men. I am no longer what one could consider human and I can endure more pain than most. The voice inside my head kept whispering, "Si vis vincere dolorem respirare discant vivere" to dull the pain.

Finally, he leaned over and whispered, "Are you going to sign the paper or not?" He opened the leather briefcase and started searching through it until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a small ballpeen hammer and set it on the table. "Now we have ways of making you do as we want, but then it begins to get messy."It was a little shiny silver hammer that still had blood stains around the edges.

"I have used this little tool in many negotiations." He was bouncing it off the palm of his hand as he continued, "It's never failed me." He pounded it on the tabletop making a loud, ringing noise as it connected. Everyone in the room jumped back including me, with the exception that my hands were chained to the table. "I am getting too old for the tough stuff, but it seems to me that you are determined to make this more a fight amongst warriors then a civilized negotiation between men."

This little room was the perfect place for my kind of fight. Small, cramped, and hard to move in, making it easier for my kind to use magic to break bones and immobilize the men around me. Unlike the other room, in the middle of this one there was only one small steel table, two chairs, and a barred window that faced the river. They were only three men in the room besides me. The Crippler and the two men guarding the door.

The hammer connected to against the metal table again, sending vibrations straight up my arms.

"Which hand is your writing hand?"the Crippler asked. I didn't want to carry the burden of three more souls with me. I didn't want to add their blood to my own torment, but they were making it impossible. Tapping the hammer against the palm of his hand he marched back and forth, never letting his eyes leave me. "Mister Barthélémy, you will sign the paper one way or another, or you'll just disappear like you never returned. Why make it harder on yourself?" He slammed the hammer a hair's width away from my hand, smiling. "I truly must apologize for the way things are going to go down now, but you leave me no other options."

When the hammer came down a surge of pain shot up my shoulder like lightning. I screamed out at the realization hit me that the pain was real and my calming spell wasn't working. My arms trembled and it seemed like whatever strength I had in my limbs had been stolen. Struggling to keep hold of my hand he kept talking.

"I know it's not money that stops you from signing because we checked out your financial records and you are rather wealthy in your own right. You don't have any attachments to the company itself or great love for family or your brother's memory so why make me hurt you? Why endure this type of pain just because you're being stubborn?"

I couldn't think of the right words for this situation. It was like the pain numbed my brain and stole the collection of useful words that I had built up over my lifetime.

"I can't," was all I could manage to whimper out. I didn't know why I did it, because before the words even left my lips I knew that it was probably going to lead to something more severe. "I thought that you would be more creative. Pulling fingernails, slicing my skin with knives, or maybe even a thousand paper cuts."

Smiling, he said "I must admit, I like your spirit. Most men would have crumbled by now, but you seem to have something inside you that is bigger than the pain you are currently feeling. I will ask you again. Why not make things easier and just sign the paper."

I was still watching the blood trickling from the gash in my hand, trying to stop my hand from trembling and praying that my mind would give me a single word to take away the pain or save me.

"I can't," was the only words I could think to say.

"Yes, I know it hurts, but 'I can't is not a valid answer, Mister Barthélémy. It's an excuse men use when they don't have a reason for what they do, but they do it anyway." My knuckle was twisted and broken and my hand started going numb as the shock set it. I was trying to push a word from inside the vault, but like my memories they were scattered and warped to the point where it seemed like every word was missing a letter or two.

"You see I know exactly why I am doing what I am doing. I have a job to do and a short timeframe to do it in," he said as he quickly drove the hammer into my second knuckle, shattering the bone and forcing a whole new explosion of agony through my body.

Struggling to yank my hand away I cried out, "I can't do it. If I sign..."

"If you sign, what will happen? What's so important that you will endure this type of pain? Who do you think you're protecting?" Hitting the tabletop, he shouted, "That's it isn't it? You are trying to be the gallant knight protecting the damsel in distress."

He stood up and started walking toward the door.

"Now I know how to complete this task. I think I might have to get more creative. I only hope that you care more about Mrs. Bailey then you do your own well-being."

I jumped up, feeling the chains digging into my skin,

"What?" This was the first time I ever thought of Jenny as more than just a ghost from the past. She was that skinny girl who sat on the edge of the river dangling her feet in the cool river water, splashing against the waves. She had this sad look in her eyes,

"Do you feel loved?" she had asked. We were sixteen and I didn't know exactly how to answer her question because with Jenny it was either all love or all misery. She had a habit of using her beauty against me and each time she broke my heart. I knew that men would want her. I wasn't blind or stupid so if I loved and wanted her why wouldn't others. The thing that hurt the most was that she always made sure I remembered that fact like I should be thankful for the limited time she offered me.

Squeezing my hand, she kissed my cheek and whispered, "I love you more than anyone else, I just don't always show it." I think that was the last time she ever told me that she loved me and I believed it.

The Crippler stopped just before the door and pulled a little silver knife from his pocket.

"Do you think that you could watch the love of your life cry out as she is sliced up or raped by the men that live in this place? Do you think your selfish pride is worth her pain and humiliation?"

"Do you believe in Hell?" I spat out as I stood up, challenging him. A spell popped into my head and I quickly uttered, "Infernum!"

"Mister Barthélémy, I don't have to believe in Hell when I bring it to those who deserve it." A smile filled his face as he spun the knife in his hand, "You aren't in a position to threaten me and certainly I don't see how you are going to help Mrs. Bailey. The King already sees her as his and he does what he likes with his toys."

The handcuffs began to glow as the heat from the fire inside my soul spread through my entire body. It wouldn't take long before I could break the bonds that trapped me here.

"So do you believe in Hell?" I asked again. He wore a crucifix around his neck and I was hoping that it meant he was a good Catholic boy, rather than it being just a symbol he wore. "Our sins follow us. Do you want to see how heavy a burden your sins are? Have you had a glimpse into your eternal afterlife?"

I opened my arms, sending little pieces of glowing steel flying across the room as I screamed out, "Testis!"

An image filled his mind as the words left my lips. A memory that haunted me from my time spent locked away.

"Confess," the child said he stuck a small piece of wood between my knees. The human world would call this The Iron Boot, but my ancestors called it the first stage of their torment. In the Crippler's eyes, he had the metal boot wrapped around his feet and would feel the agony that I chose to share with him.

"Confess to what?" he said as the panic set in. He was just as confused as I was the first time I woke up and found myself in this position.

Driving the piece of wood deeper between his legs the boy snapped, "Confess," as he added in a second piece of lumber. Pushing the second piece, it began to scrape off the skin as it went down. "The sins of the Father are the sins of the Son."

He cried out as the sides of the boot cut into his flesh and the bones in his legs began to crack.

"What sins?" he cried out as the child added another thin piece of wood between his knees.

"Confess that you are a servant of the Devil and this all goes away," the child said. His sharpened teeth looked like daggers sticking out of his mouth and his eyes were filled with blood.

"Confess!" he cried again he pounded the stake downward, shattering the bones in his legs.

The Crippler cried out as he looked down and saw the blood come gushing out, painting the floor with a pool of flowing red.

"What sins?" The boy had two larger pieces of wood that he forced between the others. The Crippler began weeping as he pleaded, "What sins? Tell me what they are and I will confess. Just tell me!"

The boy smiled, "So you confess?"

Pleading he begged, "Yes I confess. Just tell me what I did and I will confess to anything."

That's when they started dragging out a giant cross. Holding out his arms the boy shouted, "The witch has confessed!" He was laughing and dancing as he stomped around. "The only way to save him is to crucify him and then burn the darkness from his soul!"

I watched him fall to the floor in the fetal position. All men think that are stronger than their sins, but never realizedthat their sins are like steps in a staircase. The more sins you collected, the higher you must climb. This was just the first step of my sins and The Crippler had more steps than I could have ever had. I leaned over and whispered, "Do you believe in Hell now?"

chapter TWENTY six

Jenny

The air was dry and hot, making each breath feet like it was setting my lungs on fire and seemed to stick to my body like glue. Endless streams of sweat that ran from head to toe made me feel unbearably grungy and being bound here meant all I could do was suffer in silence. I could have sworn that the walls were shrinking. The longer they kept me locked up in here, the smaller the room seemed to get. My throat was hoarse from the hours I spent calling out for help, but no matter how much I screamed, begged, or threatened it always seemed to land on deaf ears.

The fading sunshine that danced its way through the little window taunted me with the knowledge that a day had been born and almost died while I was sitting here enduring my isolation. Idle time can be a terrible thing when all you have to think about is the sins and regrets from the past, knowing that the time to fix them and earn forgiveness is long gone. Renaud's presence here had opened a lot of old wounds that even I had forgot existed. Love was once more than just a word that you whispered if it would give you what you wanted. Guilt changed the meaning and I guess it changed me because I had become everything I once hated.

Footsteps on the opposite side of the door made me aware that they were coming back. It seemed that all they did was march in and demand answers to use against Renaud, then they would storm out and me alone in the dark. They were afraid of what Renaud might be or who else might be coming and I truly thought it was that fear alone that kept me untouched. How long it would last I don't know, but I was still trapped here in my little one windowed prison.

The figure standing on the other side of the door didn't move but just stood there, waiting. A second set of footsteps echoed in a higher-pitched hollow sound. A series of booms shook the door and an even louder moaning sound followed. Each time the door shook a rain of dust fell from the ceiling onto to the floor below. My body trembled as two loud pops echoed so loud that the door vibrated. Two more loud pops rang out, followed by the light under the door being smothered out like rain striking a camp fire. My heart was pounding so fast that I was certain that I was going to faint or even worse, be struck down by a heart attack. I was alone in this little room and the fear was stronger than I ever have been. I guess this is how it started for Maria too. First she was isolated like I was now and then they started cutting away at her self-confidence bit by bit until only a shell of the young woman that she had been remained.

The door opened making a familiar screeching sound that I had come to despise. The light in the background was so bright that I was blinded and could barely see the faint outline of the figure standing there. I couldn't see his face, but he looked immense and powerful as he stood there. He held a gun in each hand like a hero from one of those 80s movies that I loved so much as a child but there were no heroes here, only criminals and victims. Unfortunately, I was one of the victims here in The King's stronghold and I was weak enough to no longer have the strength to fight anymore.The silhouette of a female figure stepped around the larger, more powerful one and came towards me. Even this petite figure terrified me as she came closer and a clinking sound broke the silence.

I whined, "Please don't hurt me. I surrender to your will."

"Don't surrender, just help me escape this prison and let's hope that your guardian does everything he promised." She was running towards me with a silver object in her hand. My first instinct was to scream out as the streak of silver came at me.

"I won't hurt you." It was Maria's voice and I wondered how she managed to get enough backbone to steal the key to my cell while she was still trapped in her own.

She was unlocking the cuffs around my wrists and it sounded like freedom as the chains hit the floor.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, remembering how broken she looked the last time I saw her. She willingly let a man beat her and almost thanked him for doing it.

"It's my time to escape the bonds of slavery. Your guardian must protect me as he promised to protect you. You need to make him protect me too." Pointing towards the figure standing in the door, "He scared Johnny enough that he would rather face his brother's wrath then to face him." The figure in the door seemed to nod as he turned and scanned the hallway. "His fear is bigger than his greed. Your guardian is pure evil in his eyes and he is not foolish enough to face the fear if he can find a common ground. You are that common ground. I promised him that you would tell your friend what he did today."

"I don't even know who my guardian is," I said in confusion. "Renaud is in chains somewhere down the hall in another room. I have no knight in shining armor. They just don't exist in this day and age."

Johnny snapped, "He's coming as sure as a bear shits in the woods. He told me if we touched you or your daughter that he'd rip my family apart and I know that he is coming as soon as the sun sets." I looked toward the little window and saw the rose and orange colored sky glowing in the background. Pointing towards the window he cried out, "We are running out of time! He will be coming and you must tell him that I didn't hurt you." He was walking closer pleading, "You make sure he knows that I saved you. That I set you free."

"I don't even know him," I shouted, finally able to move my arms after hours if not days bound to that chair. I felt like I was doing a math test, but didn't have any of the answers. To make it even worse, it seemed like everybody was cheating off my paper and I knew that they were going to fail too.

Maria looked scared as she grabbed my hand, "You might not know him, but he sure the hell knows who you are. Johnny is setting me free and now I need you to make sure that I am protected too. Will you do it?"

Maria looked like cat as she pulled me towards the door. She had this way about her that made it appear like she was trying to slither in-between the shadows like a thief.

"We must move quickly in case Johnny gets cold feet or even worse, The King finds out. We don't want to be anywhere near this place if he does." Every little sound made her jump like she expected something to leap out at her. I guess she was struggling with the desire to be free and the memory of all the pain life had brought her.

"Where are we going?" I asked, following as close to her as I could. My hands were sweaty and felt sticky. "Will we run away to a different city?"

Maria yanked me close to the wall and covered my mouth, "Don't say a word. I hear something." I froze in place, imaging the worst possible situations and scenarios from being beaten to death to things much worse. "Don't move, I hear footsteps. Too many footsteps."

Johnny was dragging the dead bodyof the guard who stood watch over me into my cell, grunting and cursing as he went.

"They're coming, so you two stay against the wall and keep quiet." He was struggling to pull an even bigger man into the room. "Don't say a word or we are all screwed." Dropping the body and jumping forward, he slammed the door behind him. With a loud bang, we were trapped in this dim little room again like caged rats.

Maria grabbed hold of me, "We are trapped inside here with two dead men." She was trembling and squeezed my hand so hard that it burned as she whispered, "I don't like this. It's scary. Just the idea that they are bleeding on the floor grosses me out."

"Shush, girl" I whispered, trying to sound brave. "I can't hear what they are saying." I didn't like the idea of being trapped here with two corpses either and I didn't want to think about it. I moved closer to the door where I could hear muffled voices in the midst of a heated argument.

"The boss says to bring the broad," a deep voice said. After a slight pause, he followed up with "He doesn't believe in fairytale monsters and neither do I."

The door rattled with great force and Johnny's crackly voice spoke.

"What do you think you are doing?

"I am getting the woman like the boss ordered me to. He will be back soon and he wants her ass in the main hall." The door rattled and banged as someone screamed, "You aren't the boss. You're just his little shadow. When he kicks the bucket only then I will take orders from you."

Another voice sounded.

"Where is Gino and Kelly? They were told to guard the door until somebody came to relieve them."

Johnny's voice kept sliding up and down in pitch. "They needed to eat, so I told them I would watch her until they retuned."

"Where'd the blood come from then?"

"You know Gino and Kelly. One wanted to sample the Bailey bitch and the other knew that it wouldn't go over well."

"Damn that Kelly. He is always sampling the merchandise like he owns the place. We'll need to straighten that bastard out when we see him, before the boss decides to drop him in the river with cement floaties."

From behind us I heard something rough and savage. We both tensed up and squeezed closer to the wall as if it would protect us.

Something garbled out "Help me," but whatever came after I couldn't understand.

"What is he saying," Maria asked. Before I had a chance to respond she stepped away from the wall, "We must keep him quite or they will hear him."

"How?" was all I could say. It reminded me of my first boyfriend. He was one of those tough self-confident types that always seemed to think he was invulnerable. Nothing ever scared him, or at least he never admitted it. One night, he was leaving the strip club and heading to his car when a man came at him with a knife demanding his wallet. I would have expected him to fight off the attacker. He towered over him like a giant and was half his age, but he didn't. He just handed him all his money and his wallet. He just stood there frozen, watching the man run away.

Maria whispered, "I don't know." There was still an innocence in her voice that reminded me of Jade when she was a young child. She was still daddy's little girl then, but heading towards adulthood faster than I was prepared for.

The figure groaned as he struggled to his feet, but wobbled from the side to side like he would tumble at any moment.He was gasping for air and kept stopping as he bent over, placing his hands on his knees. He kept crouching and even though I couldn't see what was happening I could imagine blood dripping from his mouth like drool. He started stomping as he struggled to make his way closer towards us, reaching out with his hand. I don't know how, but I knew he had a knife in his hand.

"He's coming for us?" Maria whimpered. "He will kill me for this."

Even in this state, the brutish beast hobbling towards us was intimidating.

"Yes bitch, I am going to slice you up."

I guess that was the breaking point where the fear went from motivating to crushing, because the poor girl cowered placing my body between us like I was a shield. Her hands were digging into my sides like knives as she kept twisting my body between herself and the intruder. It seemed to amuse him and he kept hobbling along, struggling for each breath as he came towards us.

"I'm trapped," she whined as she backed away into a corner.

He was stabbing his way through the fading light and I could see a small flash of silver. I could hear it as it sliced its way through the air as he came closer and closer. I jumped backwards, slamming my head into the wall. I was holding my head, slowly scraping along the wall as the figure neared, slicing in wide long swipes as he went.

Through his muffled groans he said, "Help me or die." He was stumbling closer, but if he wanted our help trying to kill us wasn't in his best interest. I felt trapped as his blade tore through my shirt, ripping my flesh with a wide clumsy stroke.

I tried to muffle my scream as the pain started and I could feel the blood gushing from my stomach, splattering onto the floor. I'm not sure if it was shock or the rapid blood loss, but almost immediately I started to feel lightheaded. I held the wall trying to balance myself as my legs started to shake. I tried to calm myself, knowing that the faster my heart pumped blood through my body the faster I would bleed to death, but I couldn't slow it down.

The door banged and somebody shouted, "What's going on in there?" A series of booms and groans started like a boxer pounding on a punching bag. Each snap sent a vibration along the wall and was followed by an even louder moan. With a low garbling scream the pounding stopped and that's when I felt it. Three pops followed and I heard a twang sound which flew through the door and struck the wall sending little shards of stone flying everywhere.

I was breathless as I looked down and saw his shaking hand forcing the blade deeper and deeper inside me. He was swaying backwards, but kept fighting to stay on his feet like he was challenging death to come and claim him.

I heard a savage scream then saw a slight streak of silver flashing through the air in a random order.

"Bastard," I heard as Maria jumped on his back forcing him forward along with the sharp blade in my chest. He fell to the floor and brought me along with him. I tumbled to the floor, hearing the rattle of the metal chains that she had wrapped around her hand.

She was still screaming, "Die you bastard! Die!" I wanted to scream for her to stop because the more the man struggled to defend himself, the more force he applied to the blade that was ripping away at my body.

There was a bright flash of light that burst under the door and lit up the room like it was on fire. It was so bright that I was blinded and my eyes felt like acid was scorching my pupils, leaving only a charred hole in their place. I think I was screaming but everything was a blur except for Maria's rage, which was overflowing over the edges of her mind. She was trapped between the vision she had in her heart of what she dreamed of being and what she had become.

I was choking, struggling for each breath and panic set in as the realization that I would never see home again took over. There was something inside my throat that blocked the air from entering my lungs and I could feel the sensation of warm water running down my chin. Weakness was taking over and my eyes were getting heavy. Maria's screams went from absolute anger to a blur. I don't know why, but I kept thinking that I was going to die and there wouldn't be anyone mourning my passing. Nobody would share the amusing stories that most people built up over a life time. No, for me there would be judgment and insults tossed around like seeds leaving a farmer's hand. Each one earned over a lifetime and each one a true fact about the whore I had become. If I were list them I was sure I would create not just a single book, but endless volumes.

Something grabbed my hand and I thought I heard a scream crying, "No!"

Chapter TWENTY sEVEN

Mike

It took hours to get the dried blood out of my hair, even with the heat from the shower pounding onto my body. Whatever Harrow had done to me last night in the alley had long lasting and intense effects. Smells were overwhelming and they attacked from every direction. I could hear the damn hound from down the street who barked at everyone that passed. There was also the smell of perfume that floated through the air from two streets over. I could the young lady's whispers on the phone to her boyfriend's best friend and they weren't ladylike at all.

The hot water ran out long before I felt clean, but what could I do? It wasn't like I could spend the whole day in the shower and certainly I had other things that had to be done. First and foremost, I had to find Jenny and stop Harrow's rage and increasing body count as he hunted her down. It still amazed me how he could be in the midst of an all-out war and except for a single body discovered in an alley beside an unsavory bar, nobody noticed. I'm not sure if it's the state of the city or if Harrow was just that good. I guess time would tell.

I opened the bathroom door and dried myself with the soft cotton towel that Jenny gave me for my birthday a few years back. It was one of those fancy towels with the word "Guest" embroidered on the edges. I can't remember the last time I had a guest so it had become just another towel. The cool air felt good as I stepped out into the tiny room that connected the bathroom and my little bedroom. My house was quite small by most standards, but it had a comfortable cottage feel to it. It was why Nathanial bought it for me. It's not like I could ever afford such a place on a priest's salary.

It was a good house with thick walls that were painted in eggshell white with grungy looking beige carpets that always appeared dirty no matter how often I cleaned them. I liked the fact that I could almost see the whole place from any room and the warm sunshine always made it seem so bright.

"I think we need to talk," a voice said from the living room. I turned and was met by two men wearing thick gold chains with black t shirts and heavy leather. "I hate to intrude, but I have some pressing questions that I really need answered."

Saying I was escorted through the small hallway into the living room would be an understatement. Grabbing hold of my arms, they pushed me along like a prisoner walking down death row. I wasn't certain that it was him, but it seemed to me that I was speaking to Danny "The King" Carminati. A well-spoken giant of a man wearing a dark blue suit and one of those red-colored ties that up until now I had only seen on TV. His whole outfit seemed to be from a bad gangster movie. He wore black and white dress shoes with pointed toes and as he leaned forwards he revealed a holstered gun with what appeared to be an ivory handle. I was tossed into the room like a puppet.

Waving his hands, The King laughed and added, "Now boys don't be so rough. We're here for a friendly conversation."

This was not what I expected when I walked out of the shower.

"What exactly do you want to talk about?" I was going to throw in "About religion," but something told me that being a smart ass would end up in me getting my ass kicked. That wasn't how I wanted this day to end.

Tapping his fingers tips together he laughed, "We have plenty to discuss, Father Mike. It's ok if I call you Father Mike, isn't it?"

"As you wish," was all I said. People called me a lot of things throughout the years and Father Mike was one of the more affectionate terms.

Pointing, he laughed "If any man says priests don't have big balls I can argue the fact that is for sure, but I think you might want to cover those big boys up so that we can have a little talk." It hadn't occurred to me until now that my towel was wrapped around my neck and not my waist until now. Slipping it down and wrapping it firmly around my waist he smiled and said, "Yes that's much better."

"So what can I help you with?"

Slapping his hands together he jumped back, "Right to the point! I like that. None of the pleasantries that society pushes on us. No 'Who are you?' just 'What do you want?'"

I guess I was being rude, but these weren't exactly invited guests. They were invaders who happened to catch me in a vulnerable position. This was the first time anybody had ac caught me with my pants down so to speak.

"Let's get straight to it. Do you know about a man named Renaud Barthélémy? The writer, I mean."

"Yes, I grew up with him. We were rather close until he moved away."

"That seems to be what another friend of his told me."

"You mean Jenny Bailey, don't you?"

Smiling, he started tapping his fingers together, "It seems like you are a well-informed man, Father Mike."

"What can I say? I have a trusting face and my job is to know secrets."

"Ok, what secrets of mine do you know?" He asked, putting a hand on his holster.

He had a nervous twitch in his eye, which scared me a little. It wasn't the confident, in control look of a reasonable man looking to talk about things. His heart was beating faster and faster. I don't know how I knew it, but I could hear the added stress it took to force the blood through his blocked arteries. He was only a few years away from a severe heart attack.

"I know enough of your secrets to know that for all the gold in the world I wouldn't want to be in your shoes."

Waving his hand trying to sound unconcerned he muttered, "Yes, yes I've heard it before. A dead man is going to be coming after me when the sun goes down." Looking to the two men on either side of me he stated, "I'm not afraid of the creatures that go bump in the night. I am the one that those things are afraid of."

Stepping closer I said, "How many men have you sent after the thing that goes bump in the night?"

His heart was racing and his chest tightened as he thought about what I had said.

"A whole generation of soldiers. Not just soldiers, but the children of my oldest friends lost their lives hunting down the monster."

"And how many more do you think will die before this war is over with?"

"So Father, is this the point when you make me an offer I can't refuse?" He had the same look in his eyes that Wilson had when he was talking about his successes in the business world. Leaning back, he smiled and asked, "What is this going to cost me."

It never occurred to me before that I had a lot of valuable knowledge about many people. Little things mostly, but every now and then I'd get a gold nugget and maybe it was time for me to see this knowledge as power.

"How bad do you want to survive this war?"

"Survive?"

I walked over to a black metal foldout bed of mine and sat down, feeling it buckle under my weight. I never liked sitting in it because the aluminum poles always pinched my ass, but the only comfortable chair in the whole place had been claimed by The King. "

May I call you King?"

"Let's not be so formal. Call me Danny." He didn't look so intimidating now. He was hanging onto my every word like one of the few eager children left in my Sunday school class as I read the Christian stories. His legs were fidgeting as he kept staring at me, waiting for some great display of knowledge about his new enemy.

"OK Danny, you have stepped into the midst of a battle that is bigger than anything you have ever encountered. You are used to battling men. Human men that bleed and die. These men aren't human. They don't just bleed and die."

A frown filled his face as he nodded his head, "That one Renaud bleeds alright, it's just thick and black like oil. Damnest thing, actually."

Black blood was something new even to me, but I thought the color of his blood had great meaning. The image of Hell and damnation filled my mind and I couldn't help but wonder if Harrow's prediction that Renaud was the bringer of a great evil wasn't true. He was definitely a witch or a warlock, that I knew for sure since seeing Harrow's memories and now I wondered what else I was stepping into.

"Does thick black blood sound human to you?" I reached over, grabbing a little gold crucifix that stood on the little stand beside the hide-a-bed, "Are you a religious man Danny?"

Laughing, he responded, "I am a good catholic boy, Father. Never miss a Sunday service."

Playing with the crucifix I said, "Then you might want to start praying a little harder because there are things that belong Hell that are now hunting you."

"Oh come on, Father. I will admit that this guy has been a major pain in the ass and he has an uncanny knack of surviving and perhaps he is a born killer, but I don't think he's some kind of boogie man." He believed, but refused to admit it. Kind of like an atheist who says that God doesn't exist, but says "Thank God" when something good happens and swears it's just a figure of speech. I tossed the little gold crucifix at him and he caught it, looking all confused. Pulling out his own he said, "I already have one."

"That one hasn't witnessed any of your crimes and honestly, without my help you will be discovering that Hell is real long before you want to."

Holding the cross in his hand he looked up, "And what's the price for salvation, Father?"

"Love."

He burst out laughing, "You seem to be one of those rejected suitors. A man who has loved someone from a far and now you are tired of hearing no. Why do I have a feeling that you are the most dangerous man in the room."

"Because I am." My mind was clear as to what I wanted. If I was going to throw my friends to the wolves I wanted a great reward. I wanted Jenny to lust for me the way she did for any man that Wilson told her to. I had wished that I had money and power my whole life. Not because I wanted riches or because I wanted men to fear me, but because I wanted Jenny to want me the way she wanted so many others.

Tossing the cross back at me he said, "Tell me what you want and then tell me what you can do for the King."

"Rumor has it that you know how to break a woman so she bends to your will. That no woman ever runs from you and even after you beat them, they think that they are responsible for it. That they deserve it and will even thank you for doing it."

His face glowed as he sat back, locking his fingers together across his chest.

"Yes, that is part of my charm. I know how to make a woman love me and fear me at the same time."

Normally, I would have hated a man for this kind of thing. Using and abusing women like that. I had spent so much time trying to help women break this cycle of violence, but what if the cycle saved them in the end? What if The King could break Jenny enough that she could only come to me for help? That the only hero in her life was me and she was scared enough that she couldn't feel safe and secure unless I was holding her?

"I want Jenny."

"Mrs. Bailey? Oh I have plans for her. Truly a high-class piece of ass, that one."

"Change your plans for her then."

"Now I know you want to be a big man here Father Mike, but a woman like that is out of your league. She's not going to be an easy one to control."

"Then I guess we have nothing else to discuss, Danny. If I were you, I would get my affairs in order because I know what's coming for you and you won't win this war." I stood up and headed towards the kitchen. "Go home, kiss your wife goodbye, and spend your last hours playing ball with your kids."

"Let's be reasonable. I can break the daughter Jade, and you will have a very submissive and obedient woman. I mean one that you can mold like clay. That I can arrange easily. If you don't want her I have a sweet thing back at the factory named Maria. The more you use her, the more she loves you."

I snapped, "If you had any other options you wouldn't be here. If you thought that you could win you wouldn't even have considered a deal with me, so go home and prepare your ass to meet the afterlife. You won't get to paradise, so pack sun screen and a speedo."

I heard a click and turned to find Danny holding a revolver next to my ear. "We aren't finished talking yet."

I was terrified as the cold metal pressed against my head. My stomach tightened and I swear I could taste my fear, but I grabbed hold of the kitchen counter trying to control my trembling hands.

"You won't pull the trigger."

"Oh, I have killed better men then you."

I felt like I was going to throw up, but I was certain that he wouldn't follow through. A little part of me thought that if he did it might be a blessing in disguise because I was selling my soul for lust. Even if I called it love, I was well aware that it was a lie.

"Then do it."

It sounded like thunder as he pulled the trigger and I wet myself uncontrollably.

"Father, you might be a fool, but you aren't looking to die, are you?"

I was so embarrassed seeing the yellow stream running along the floor towards the refrigerator still trying to control my trembling body. If this was a test of faith or manhood I had failed utterly and my wet towel was proof enough of that.

"No I don't want to die and if you shoot me it's over. When Harrow comes for you it will be much worse. If you can imagine it, here is what your future has in store for you. Let this image linger in your mind. An all-powerful three-year-old throwing a temper tantrum. He has no remorse or guilt, just rage. You kidnapped the woman his brother loves, the mother of his child, and you are holding a gun on his best friend. How painful do you think your last hours will be? Do you think if you kill or harm any of us your family will be safe?"

He went silent and his gun dropped to his side. I was certain that he was going to have his henchmen pound me into the floor, but he stepped back and said, "Go get dressed and we will make a deal. You will have Mrs. Bailey and in a few hours, Wilson Bailey will be stiff."

Chapter TWENTY EIGHT

Renaud

I could see their shadows on the other side of the door. Two street-tough young thugs that would charge right at me the minute that they realized I was free. The Crippler was staring at the ceiling with haunting, empty eyes. If only he realized that I had shared my hell with him and his was much worse I was sure his heart would stop. His body count was much higher and the agony he had brought to the world was so great that I couldn't count them all, but they would in Hell. He would be forced to account for ever tear he caused and his punishment would dwarf mine.

My one hand was still broken and deformed from my ordeal and even the air touching my skin made it burn. Holding my wrist, I tried to think of a healing word. I placed the image of a healthy hand deep in my mind. I whispered, "Sana," and a loud pop followed as the bone and muscle started twisted and changing, sending a deep burning through my entire body. I clenched my teeth and forced out"Sana," trying to force my body to obey with sheer force of will. The strength poured out of me and I fell to the floor trying not to scream out from the pain. The sound of laughter on the other side of the door was welcome, since it meant that they were oblivious to the fact that I wasn't being tortured any more. I was gasping for air trying to remain strong long enough for the pain to fade. Not the pain from my hand healing, but the fire burning inside me from the amount of magic it took to do the process.

It took too much time for me to drag my ass off the floor, but eventually I was able to stand on my own feet. I hadn't been able to use my magic for too many years and magic was like muscle. It's only strong when used and exercised regularly. My hand still felt stiff and awkward, but it would have to do. Completely healing it would drain my strength and I am certain that in the coming hours I would need all the strength that I could muster.

I placed my hands firmly against the door, trying to make sure that I would be placing them exactly where the two guards were. They deserved to die, but I didn't want to carry that burden with me in this life or the next. I whispered, "Tetanus," and watched the door slowly begin to glow. It took a lot of concentration and effort to push it through the door and into their bodies. It probably wouldn't kill them, but it would knock them on their asses long enough for me to escape them. A heavy thudding sound followed as they fell to the floor. I opened the door slowly, hearing the rusted metal from the hinges scraped against each other.

The hallway was dim and left way too many shadows for my liking, but there wasn't a hell of a lot that I could do about it now. Both men were kneeling, throwing up as the disease took over. By now their muscles and joints would be as stiff and weak asan eighty-year-old's after a lifetime of struggles. I stepped out and ran towards the first man, grabbing him by the hair and driving my knee into his face. He flipped over, smashing into the floor and gasping for air as the blood flowed from his nose. The second man fell over without my assistance, which was well enough for me since I think I was going to need all the strength I had in me if I was going to save Jenny and Mike's heart in the process. As I ran by them I whispered, "Sana lente." It wouldn't cure them, but it would delay the disease long enough for them to see a doctor.

Stepping past them I made my way down the narrow corridor that had seen much better days. It wasn't just the dust clouds that filled the air like a swarm of angry bees, but the way the floor gave a little with each step I took, giving the sensation that it would crumble beneath my feet no matter how softly I tried to walk. I stopped placing my hands against the wall with the realization that the makeshift walls were in even worse shape than the floor. It was slow moving as I made my way towards the dim light hanging at the end of what felt like an endless tunnel as the remnants of some kind of fire lingered in the air. If the road to Hell was paved with good intentions, each step I took was the freeway that lead right to the heart of it.

As I hit the end the lights became brighter and voices carried so clearly it was like I was part of the conversation.

I slowly peered around the corner and saw arms swinging in the air as one of them bellowed, "What's going on in there?" Before the baby-faced man wearing gold chains and leather even had a chance to answer firmly he was tossed against the metal door, making a thunderous booming sound. The smallest man looked awkward, keeping his hands behind his back as he bounced forward off the door like a ball being tossed against a wall. The brute smashing him around was too blind to realize that this guy was dangerous. He wasn't just taking the abuse, but waiting to strike like a rattlesnake and it looked like it would be just as fast and as deadly.

The giant didn't just push him aside, but snagged hold of his shoulder and tossed him forward like a bear throwing its cub into the water. He scraped the floor, bouncing towards me as they stepped towards the door flipping through keys on a key ring. That had to be the room where they were keeping Jenny. I wasn't certain as every door in the place looked the same, but something told me that she was a high-end prisoner and not just one of the common working girls that seemed to always be chattering and giggling. I am not sure how long they kept me in that little cubbyhole of a room, but there is one thing I did learn. Hell could easily be just me and a room full of giggling girls and they wouldn't need to cut me up. I would gladly poke out my ears then listen to that for an eternity.

I heard the snapping of ribs before my mind registered the pain of it as my body smashed into the paper-thin walls. Through the corner of my watering eyes I saw the baseball bat swinging straight at my head with enough force to kill most men. Luckily, in such a cramped space his swing wasn't dead on and he managed to connect with the back of my head and not smash my skull in. I was not exactly sure if lucky was the best term since it didn't kill me, but it felt like somebody had stabbed me with a hot iron and it kept on burning.

"How tough are you now, you bastard?" he screamed as he swung again. I was turning as the bat came at me and managed to grab hold of it with my hand. It took all my strength and concentration to keep hold of it, but I refused to give him an inch of ground.

Driving my knee into his midsection I snarled, "Tough enough," as he crumbled over trying to catch his breath. I can't say I regret what happened next, only that the rage inside me was stronger the fear of what new burdens his death might cause me. I lifted my foot as high as I could, catching him right in the throat. His eyes went large and hazy as a loud gargling sound burst out. With the bat firmly in hand I side-swiped and brought it down with all the force I had in me. His whole body dropped to the floor and the blood oozed out of the back of his head.

Three loud bangs echoed from around the corner along with the cries and groans that come with it. I leapt out and saw both thugs dropping to their knees as the smallest one emptied three more slugs into them. I had always thought that gunshots would send a spray of blood flying out at the gunman as the bullets drilled into the flesh, but that's not what happened. It looked like little streams of red water flowing from their chests. The biggest one wasn't going down without a fight, though. Even as the life was draining from his body he struggled to keep the revolver in his trembling hands.

The handsome one with the boyish face screamed, "No!" as a bullet burst through the back of his head. I watched the splatter of bone and brain matter fly towards me as he collapsed onto the floor.

"You," the giant muttered, his body still rocking forward as he tried to aim for me with those immense trembling hands. He was struggling to get onto his feet and he seemed like he would fall at any moment, but I couldn't chance it. Men, like animals, become extremely dangerous when they are injured. They were unpredictable and lashed out viciously until they'd either strike you down or were struck down themselves.

He was measuring me and even with those shaking hands I was aware that he had me in his sights.

Holding my hands out I calmly whispered, "Listen friend, you don't want to do this," but he looked like he wanted to take me down with him. He kept his gun pointed on me with a look of desperation in his eyes. "Please, put the gun down so we can discuss this like men. I can save you."

"No, you can't," he said as he pulled the trigger, sending a bullet striking the wall beside me.

He was struggling to get in a second shot and I knew what I had to do. His first shot landed so close to me that I could hear the fast air from the bullet skimming beside my head. I dropped to one knee as he pulled the trigger. The bullet came inches from my head, but not close enough to end this battle. I held out me hand and whispered, "Mortalitas," watching his eyes glaze over. This was the only thing I could do to protect myself. Like a magnet, I pulled the strength and life force from his body. I wasn't pretty, but it was the only charitable thing I could do. Like streams of electrified air, what little life he had inside himself floated straight to me. Slowly, his body began to dry out and shrink like a raisin as his strength became mine. His body fell to the ground smashing into dust. This type of magic hadn't been used for centuries. Not by me or any other man, as a matter of fact. Not since the last days of the Aswang had it been used. Back then, warlocks disguised themselves as vampire-like beasts and fed on the living. These mad wizards stopped being human and lived off the life force of the living. That lead to a hundred war that almost wiped my kind off the face the earth. These days were known as the blood wars.

Stealing life from a dying man, no matter how corrupt he might be gives you a little added strength but it doesn't make you stronger. My mother used to explain the morals of magic to us as children. It was an unwritten law that our father passed on to her and that she painstakingly drilled into us. I wasn't proud of my actions, but there wasn't any real shame in it. Either way, as I made my way towards the metal door the corridor seemed darker for some reason or maybe it was that my soul had been stained just a little bit more.

I was almost at the door when loud stomping charged right at me, growing louder and more violent. Turning, I saw a small skinny figure coming towards me, his fist clenched around a knife and prepared to attack. His smile faded as he realized that the element of surprise was no longer in his favor. He didn't slow his charge, though. Pride insisted that he keep fighting, even though one look at him would tell anyone that he was living in the shadow of what he was raised to be, not what he wanted to be. Within six feet he leapt through the air at me, screaming and cursing as his weight forced him forward like a projectile.

I held out my hand and whispered, "Duratus," and watched his body stop in place. That's when the fear kicked in, but with the exception of his mind he was frozen. I knew how to stop his attack, but stopping time completely was beyond me. He looked vulnerable, almost childlike. He pleaded for mercy, even though I didn't think he would show me any if our roles were reversed.

"I won't kill you today, but I would strongly suggest that you rethink your life choices." I said. It was one of the few advantages of being human. There are always choices, but the true irony was that most people never thought of the consequences. Lowering my hand, I said "Somnus," and his body fell to the floor. I didn't want to carry his death on my shoulders, even if it meant I was facing this battle weakened.

I walked to the door and pushed on it, expecting it to open. It didn't budge and I couldn't find any key that fit.

"Jenny, are you in there?" I called, but if she heard me she wasn't in the mood or the shape to answer. I smashed on the door and the only thing that happened was a loose hollow rattle. "Jenny open the door!" I said as I getting trying. I heard a female's cries of pain and then the panic sent in. "Jenny let me in," I demanded before deciding that it was time to break through the door. Slamming my hand against the cold steel I shouted, "Reserare," and the lock broke as I pushed the door open.

I wasn't sure what I expected, only that all I saw was a bloodstained girl hovering over Jenny with chains wrapped around her hand and tears in her eyes. I almost set her a blaze thinking that she was like me. A monster that shouldn't be walking amongst the living.

"Help her," she whispered.

I stepped closer and saw Jenny's eyes begin to fade like a candle before it ran out of wick. I had always thought of each breath bringing life to people, but seeing the blood pumping for Jenny's chest I realized it was pushing her closer to death. The young woman was trying to stop the bleeding with her hands, but for all the good it was doing she might as well have been trying to stop the rain from coming through a screen door. Jenny's eyes were pleading for me to help her and I guess a better man might have felt remorse over seeing her life fading away, but I was torn. Knowing what was right and actually doing it wasn't always the same.

The young woman snapped, "Aren't you going to help her? You must do it. You are her guardian. Her hero!" It was sickening to see hope in her eyes like I was there to save the world when I all I truly wanted to do was finish my affairs while I still had enough time to do it. Damn you Mike, I thought. Damn you. If he didn't love her I could be finished with this whole thing.

"Move, girl," I ordered as I knelt beside her. She felt cool to the touch and even though I knew that she was struggling for each breath, her heart was pounding and I knew that she was seconds away from dying. Part of me just wanted to walk away from her and the whole thing, but I was committed. Sometimes, no matter what you want do to you must follow through until the very end.

The girl was still staring at me looking for answers, even though I knew she wouldn't like them when she heard them. I whispered, "Somnus" and watched her eyes fall closed. I reached out and caught her as she tipped over, headed for the ground. She felt so light and soft as I caught her in my arms. I was tempted to reach out and run my fingers through her hair, thinking about how silky it must feel. I hated being touched, but the temptation to reach out and touch her was strong.

It must have been taken all the strength she had in her, but somehow Jenny reached out to me. Not like lover, but like a naughty child looking for forgiveness. It was a sweet gesture, even if my heart had no forgiveness to give anymore. Once maybe, but people do a lot of things that they normally wouldn't do when they are on the brink of death. I should have let her die as saving her would cost me dearly, but I couldn't just walk away. Not now, at least.

"Don't move," I said as I got to my feet. Not that I thought she would go very far, but it seemed like the thing to say. "I'll be right back," I said as I made my way towards the door. That this was going to cost me was a certain, but I doubted that she was worth the sacrifice or the price that I was about to pay for what I was going to do. To save her life I would need to take another's. It wasn't the only price I would be forced to pay.

Chapter TWENTY NINE

Harrow

As the rose pinks and oranges on the sunset were burning in the sky I sat there in shame. Six dead bodies laid scattered around me. Each was guilty of some kind of sin, but none of them deserved this fate. I fed upon them uncontrollably like they were grade A rump roast and I was starving. They tasted better than any steak I could ever remember having. Tender, juicy, and flavorful right to the last morsel. It was never the act of feeding that haunted me as the blood lust was always stronger than my control. It was always the time after that broke my spirit. The time when those blank stares seemed to be always following me as if each one was judging me. I stole their lives. Their futures. Not because I had to as I would have lived and healed regardless of their sacrifice, but I needed to heal quickly to be prepared for the upcoming battle. Man against beast and in this story, the beast always wins. I wasn't the only monster, so time would tell which of two evils was left standing.

My phone rang and as I looked down I saw Mike's name flashing. I didn't expect him to text me so soon after our encounter last night. He witnessed my journey into darkness as I lived and had enough vampire blood inside him that he could beat a manwith a single punch. Like any other drug, soon enough the affects would wear off and he would want to sleep for a week. It was always the way of it. You're a rock star as long as it flows through your veins and then the next thing you know, you're on your ass and there's that little part of you that always craves just a drop more. I opened my phone and saw his message. "Jenny's at the abandoned factory on Riverside."

It made sense that The King would own a place like that. It had a dark history, or at least legend claimed it did. A fire that took twelve lives in the early 90s and a serial killer that took up shop in it a little later, but that was just history. The real fun and games that the world would remember would be the day that they discovered the whole Carminati family dead. They would think it was some kind of crime war, but it was better for them to think that than know the truth.

"It looks like I'm going out to a party."

Clapping her hands, Mihaela was almost dancing.

"Oh daddy, what kind of party? Can I come please, Daddy? Can I?" There was madness in her eyes as she smiled and licked her lips. She always played the helpless maiden when in reality she was one of the most ruthless killers that I had ever met. Sexy, charming, and when she wanted to she could look quite innocent. She was the perfect killing machine. Asking me was to make me feel powerful even though she was coming with me if I wanted her to or not. After all, she was my creator and in reality I was her servant.

"Of course, kitten. There is going to be a feast there tonight."

She was acting like a giddy schoolgirl.

"I can't wait, Daddy! Will they have young, fresh blood?" It always amazed me how the excitement of a good hunt made her return to a childlike state. "What are the rules, Daddy?"

We always had our rules, the same as her creator had his own set. They were more or less tried and true ways of living and feeding that made us look natural or at least, not supernatural. It was how our kind survived the ages and still to this day remain to be seen as nothing more them legend and myth.

"We leave none of them alive, kitten. Every gangster in the place must die so this can be over once and for all."

"I am so excited! All evil, daddy?"

I placed my hands on her shoulders, pulling her closer so I could kiss her forehead.

"I said gangsters, kitten. You mustn't go head to head with Renaud. He isn't like anything that we have encountered before." She pulled away slightly and puckered her lips as something ran through her mind. She grinned and went to say something, but I cut in before she had a chance to say anything. Grabbing her shoulders a little harder, I gave her my best serious look, "I am serious, if Renaud shows up you stay out of his way. Today he almost destroyed you. He backed off, but could have done so much more damage. He saw me and for just a second he was that little kid and always protected me and walked away. Tonight, that little sentimental brat might not come to life and save you."

"Oh Daddy, you're so adorable. He is your brother and he loves you. He saved you from my master and even from your destiny. Why would he kill you now?"

That was probably a question that, despite knowing the outcome, it was the reason still that eluded me. Renaud made a great sacrifice, there was no denying that but people just don't come back and when they do, shit happens.

"Kitten, if he attacks you run."

"Then you must run too, Daddy. What kind of kitten would I be if I lost my Daddy?"

It didn't take long for the darkness to come. It was a certainty in an uncertain world. We made our way down the narrow corridor towards the lair. The living get homes and the dead find lairs. Some might think it's just semantics, but it was the reality of life. A home is where a person lives and loves, where cherished memories are built and laughter is shared like dreams between lovers. I get a lair that exists only as long as the world believes I am nothing more than fairytale.

I showered and felt civilized again. There is nothing like a fine Italian suit and the feel of a soft silky shirt on your skin. It always reminded me of crawling into my mother's bed on a stormy night when I was a child. I always felt so safe and secure when I crawled in beside her and snuggled in so close that I could feel the warmth left behind in the silky sheets.

There was always the one part of my routine that I still struggled with. It was my reflection. There was something alarming about looking into a mirror expecting to see my sparkling eyes and brilliant smile, but the only thing I'd find was a fancy blue suit and a lot of missing parts. I always walked away feeling like just a little piece of me was lost. That at some point I would forget what my face looked like and then I would lose myself. If I hadn't already lost myself.

"You always look so sad when you stare into that thing. It's times like this Daddy when I wonder if saving you from your demons was a gift or a curse."

It was days like this that made me wonder the same thing. Did she save my soul the day she changed me or did she just gift me a new form of damnation? It was still a two-sided coin that always seemed to hand on heads, which wasn't as lucky as I thought it was.

"Kitten, you gave me the gift of eternal life. What gift is greater?"

She stepped closer and kissed me, "I hope that love is the greatest gift, Daddy. Eternal and never-ending love." Running her fingers along my face, she whispered, "The day I turned you it wasn't just to save your life, it was it was to save my heart."

Times like this made me remember what originally attracted me to her. Why I was willing to risk so much just to be with her. Even my brother's soul. Now he was back and I wondered if he even had one. We were twins, it was just the stains of evil inside us had changed us on the inside.

"You are my soulmate, Kitten. Good or bad, we are certainly soul mates."

"Why don't we change them?" Mihaela had a thoughtful look on her face. Usually that look appeared when she had something sneaky on her mind. Something sinister. She wasn't exactly an evil beast, just mischievous one. Too devilish for my liking, at times. She had a savageness about her that frightened even me sometimes.

"Change the gangsters? Are you kidding?"

Giggling she walked away.

"No, silly. I meant Jade and her mother." Turning, she put her hands together, "Just think of it, Daddy. If they are no longer alive nobody can hurt them. They will no longer be weak." That was how she saw herself in her previous life, so that was how she saw humanity. In her eyes, being human was like being a rose. It meant being weaker than the weeds that surrounded it and the limited time a rose had to bloom before the petals fell off was the human lifespan. Too short and delicate to truly be appreciated.

"No, I won't subject them to this life," I said as I stared into the soulless mirror. Laughing, I added "Besides, I can't image Jenny living a century or two without being able to see her reflection. It would be the worst hell imaginable to her." It wasn't exactly the worst hell I could imagine, but then again I knew a lot more of the intricate details about the place then most people do.

"Is our life so bad? The immortality, superior strength and power, and the unnatural charm that gives us power over everyone we meet?"

"Oh Kitten, I didn't mean my existence a horrible thing, nor do I hate it. Like you, I had no choice in it but why should we force our life on them if they had another choice. Let's destroy our enemies and get back to our life. Maybe it's time we start exploring greener pastures. Visit our kind's homeland and see if we can start a new, simpler life where family and all its complications aren't always distracting us from each other."

Rolling her eyes, she snorted, "You mean once your brother and Jade are dealt with?"

"Yes, once the Renaud and Jade situations have been dealt with."

"No silly, I meant the other brother. You and him might have been enemies, but you're brothers and he was murdered as sure as the fact blood will flow tonight." I hadn't allowed myself to think of Nathanial's death as an unsolved murder in sometime.

It didn't take long for us to find the factory. It was the old power building that had stood here for over 100 years. It was a four-story fortress that not only stood the test of time, but had endured everything Mother Nature could throw at it. The windows had been shattered by teenagers and their stones. Those that has escaped their attack had been scarred by graffiti. It was certainly artistic, with one image being of a man with a long tongue surrounded by neon blue stars and purple-pink lines cutting through it. The image had started to fade and peel due to cold winter winds and endless hot humid days had stolen the bright flashy colors, but not the natural beauty.

Vines covered the front of the building, climbing from the foundation all the way to the roof like a giant hand that was trying to squeeze the life out of the. If one took the time to look they could still see the craftsmanship that went into the white frames around each window and the brickwork that protected it. Standing there, the building looked immense and strong and the closer I came to it the more intimidating it was. It was the way the moonlight sent shadows crawling across the vines like ghouls guarding the very gates of Hell. The haunting look of the place would quail even the bravest hearts.

Three older-model sedans were parked at the side, hidden behind the jungle of brush that stood firmly like a wall protecting them from the outside world. Most people zoomed past it, seeing more of an eyesore then the architectural wonder that it was. Most people allowed their vision to be distorted by the eerie aftereffect that time had painted on it instead ofseeing the strength that started from the foundation and carried on to the roof.

I walked around the corner and saw the rusted numbers 325 hanging over the doors. In its past glory these doors would have allowed any number of goods and products to be brought in and out of the building. This isn't just limited to honest goods and services, but during prohibition countless barrels of rum and moonshine were sent across the river from this very building. My family was right smack dab in the middle of it.

"I should have known that you would be right in the middle of this. Even in death I see you are the ultimate bad boy, Harrow."

Turning, I saw Murlin standing behind us with her arms crossed and based on the leather jacket with padded shoulders and elbows she was wearing, she was prepared for battle.

"It looks like Renaud's pet put on her big girl pants and is now ready to run with the pack." Mihaela didn't even try to hide her hatred for her. She said they were sworn blood enemies from the earliest of days, or something like that. Historically, for every monster that lurks in the shadows there is an even scarier creature hunting it. No matter how tough you think you are, there was always someone tougher just around the corner. "Did he send you here to fetch Jenny for him?"

Murlin walked closer and looked her in the eyes.

"Nobody sends me to fetch anyone. Mike told me that he heard Renaud was brought here when they kidnapped him, so I came to rescue him."

"Renaud needs rescuing?" I couldn't believe it. He was one of the most powerful wizards on the continent, or at least he was before they dragged him to Hell. It seemed impossible that there was anything the King could throw at him that he couldn't destroy with a mere word. Me included.

"Yes, even the all-powerful Renaud needs to be saved every now and then." Smiling, she added, "I wouldn't get in his way though. He is a little squeamish about killing mortal men, but he has no problem destroying immortals I'm sure." It always seemed ironic that we called ourselves immortals, but like the gods of old who died they were no longer more than myth and never truly forgotten my kind can easily die as well, if you knew how to kill us. Unfortunately, Murlin knew a hundred ways to kill us and I was certain that Renaud had picked up a few hundred more during his time being tortured.

Mihaela looked both amused and terrified at the same time.

"Why don't you go back and play with a ball of string and let the adults do what they need to. We don't want to have to babysit you."

"Don't worry about me, bloodsucker. I won't get in your way, just don't get in mine. You save the whore and let me save my master."

I didn't want to get in the middle of their pissing match. One I owed my life to, but the other I owed everything too. She helped raise me like a mother. She tutored me in magic, nurtured me, and tried to teach me wrong from right, but it never stuck. You can't blame the teacher if the student doesn't care to learn.

"Let's just put our age-old battle aside for the time being and get on with the rescue."

Murlin seemed amused as she turned, "Our age-old battle?"

The air felt stagnant as I forced it open shattering them right in the center as the metal broke free from inside it. They sealed it and had forgotten that it existed until now. A loud crackle burst through the air and I felt the sting as if something dug out my eyes. Like a wild explosion of rain, my blood splattered and a spray filled the air. I fell back, hitting the ground pain began to take over. There wasn't a man with a gun inside waiting. Certainly, I would have smelt him or heard a heartbeat if there was. No, this was a trap and I had stepped right into it.

Chapter THIRTY

Jenny

They say that when you die, your life flashes before your eyes or your soul separates from your body and floats, letting you see yourself from above. That's what I expected, I guess. To relive those treasured moments from my life. The idea of it scared me more than I cared to admit. All those unsavory acts that I did in the name of success. Some might say I did all those unmentionable acts to help elevate Wilson's professional life, but that's not how I saw it. Every time I helped Wilson succeed, I was helping myself. My own dreams and desires were made a reality because of his success. I expected Jade's birth to pop up like the highlight real from the sports newscast. After all, even if she wasn't expected or even wanted in my teens, she was my ultimate defining moment. It was her birth that made me bury the stupid schoolgirl who believed in love and was easily seduced. I killed that little girl and became Wilson's wife. What I feared the most, though was the last day I saw Renaud before he vanished. The day I told him I was pregnant and I saw the betrayal in his eyes. We were still kids and had never had sex, so he knew that it wasn't his. That was the worst of it. He demanded to know who the father was and I was too ashamed to tell him. Too ashamed to tell him that the child I was carrying would one day call him uncle if I ever told her the truth. I didn't get to say any of those things, though.

I was pulled back to life in an explosion of light. Nothing like sudden blindness you experience when you turn the lights on in a dark room, but more like the bright colors that pop in the sky during a firework show. It was magical, to say the least and I swear as each second passed I was being pulled back from the brink of death and into to the land of the living. Through the blurred fog that seem to fill my eyes like a curtain in a window, I saw the faint outline of a man whispering, "Tolle animam meam et reddet mihi dolorem cruciatumque," and strings of light shot out of his fingers, seeming to twist and turn before heading to my chest. I don't know why, but the light seemed to push warmth into my body while pulling out the coldness that had settled there since I had been stabbed.

My eyes cleared, but the image of the man kneeling over me was distorted. He was still whispering, "Tolle animam meam et reddet mihi dolorem cruciatumque," through clenched teeth as streams of sweat dripped from his brow onto my body. The voice seemed like the owner was about to cry as he forced each syllable out and the trembling hands that touched my flesh were hot like fire. All this and yet he never stopped for a second. His face was terrifying at best. I knew that the face looking down at me couldn't look the way my mind made it to be. It just wasn't possible. Loose wrinkled skin dangled off his chin and there were so many scars covering his face that it looked like somebody had attacked him with a lawnmower. There was one giant scar that ran all the down his and went right over his eye. To see such a creature, I automatically knew that he had no redeeming features but here he was saving my life. I liked to think that he was my angel, but angels didn't look that scary.

The strength was flowing back into my body faster than previously before, but it appeared that the stronger I was becoming the weaker my savior was. As the seconds passed, I was certain that I could see death grabbing hold of him as if he called it from my body into his and it obeyed. The colors stopped and the figure staggered backwards. I watched him intently, expecting something to happen but nothing did. He just sat there motionless with his head down, every muscle inside his body sending waves throughout his frame.

Maria was lying in the floor motionless. The small, fragile thing looked dead. I hoped that she was just knocked out or sleeping, but I feared she was a victim of this world. A child that ended up here because of a few twists of fate and the worst luck ever.

The figure's hand moved and I wondered what would cause him to take my pain and bring it upon himself.

"She isn't dead," he grumbled. "She's just sleeping. Soon enough she will awake and you must take her and run." Slowly, he moved his trembling hands and placed them on her forehead whispering, "Me obliviscere," and a faint dim light filled those cold eyes.

"What did you do to her?"

In a deep voice, the stranger said, "Nothing at all. I told her to sleep and she did." There was sadness in his eyes as he stated, "I didn't hurt the child. Somethings, once witnessed you can never get out of your head. Seeing my real face is an image nobody should be forced to carry with them. She will wake up and forget that I ever existed."

"Why did you save me?"

He laughed, "A priest prayed for your salvation. I saved your body and now it's his job to save your soul."

Normally, I loved being in the center of attention. It was one of those things that I cherished and longed for my whole life. I loved the Idea of everybody wanting me or talking about me. Since childhood I had adored the idea that men wanted me and woman hated me for it. Today was different though, it was desire that made me the center of attention. Today it was one man saving my body so that another man might be able to save my soul.

"Damn you Mike." I said, under my breath.

He burst out laughing, "You're probably the only woman in the world that wants to damn him." There was more than just amusement in his voice. It was like old friends laughing at a funeral. It might be morbid, but that's exactly the impression I received talking to him. Like we were old friends.

He stood up and I couldn't believe my eyes. Blood was pouring out of his chest. Looking down, I was surprised to find that the stab wounds had vanished leaving nothing but blood stains to indicate that they had ever existed. Looking back at him, I realized that the wounds seemed to have leapt from my body to his.

"Did you save my life by sacrificing your own?"

Blood was seeping from his eyes and a sadness filled his voice as he said, "No, I have no life to sacrifice. There was a time when I would have gladly traded my life for you, but I don't have that option anymore. No, I stole a life and gave it to you."

"Why? You did all this because a priest prayed for you to save me."

"Yes I did. He asked and I did it for him."

"Why would you do that? What is so special about me?"

He was twisting his hands and squeezing them together, "There is nothing truly special about you to me, but to Mike you are everything. I can understand why he thinks that way, but I don't feel that way anymore."

He touched Maria's forehead and whispered, "Surgit."

Like a robot, her eyes opened and she started to moan as she wiped the sleep from her eyes. Slowly she looked around the room, dazed at first as she grabbed my hand.

"You are fine, but how? You were dying and there was nothing I could do," Staring at my chest her eyes were filled with fear, "How is this possible?"

He stood up and said, "Forget about what happened while you were sleeping. We must leave this place now." Maria seemed lost as she stared at me and then down at her blood covered hands. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

"Listen, I don't have time to explain." He grabbed Maria's hand and said, "Let's just get you two out of here before it's too late."

He stepped towards the door and turned back, "Let's get out of here before more men come."

"Too late," a voice said as he got thrown to the floor. "There's no place to run and hide." Stepping into the doorway, the intruder was nothing like I expected. He was a slim, pointy-faced short guy with squinty eyes and a thin mustache that looked like it was starting to go bald.

Pointing a gun in my direction he said, "The boss wants you, fancy pants." Pointing it in Maria's direction a cruel smile filled his rat-like face, "And I'm sure the boss is going to want to have a little talk with you. After turning his little brother against him like you did, I know that it's going to be a painful talk."

With a quick kick he drove the ball of his foot right into my hero's face, sending him back down to the floor and as a small splatter of blood flew everywhere.

"Nobody cares about you." Wiping the blood from his face he took a deep breath and slowly started positioning himself try to get up. The rat booted him in the chest as he snapped, "Did I tell you that you could get up off the floor?" A loud chuckle from behind him made it quite apparent that he wasn't alone.

Twisting his head from side to side, my guardian's neck cracked and he started stretching his arms.

"My mom might miss me. She thinks I am adorable." There was something about him. Such cockiness for a man who was knocked on his ass and bleeding on the floor.

Rat-face was amused as he kept the gun pointed on him.

"With a face like that, I could see how only a mother could love it. I like him, though. He's got big balls for a dead man."

Still stretching he snorted.

"Oh, if only you knew how close you were to the truth, little man." He was slowly pushing himself up off the floor when Ratface lifted his leg and went to strike out at him. He caught his foot in the air and whispered, "Torpor," and pushed him back. Jumping to his feet he snapped, "I wouldn't suggest that you do that again, friend."

"Son of bitch, my legs asleep! Damn guy must know a lot about nerves or something." Giggling, he looked back at whoever was behind him and asked, "The boss didn't say anything about a scar-faced demon0looking fellow, did he?" He was kicking his leg trying to get the blood to flow back to his limb. "I really like this guy, I must say."

"Then walk away now. I don't want to be forced to do something drastic."

Pointing the pistol at him, he said, "It seems to me that you have forgotten who has the gun." Looking back at those behind him and then back at us he spread his arms and demanded, "Give me your best and we will see who is still standing."

Twisting his head, he held up a finger and said quietly, "Harrow's here." What was Harrow doing here and even if he was, why would my guardian even care? Intently, he pointed around the room and stopped, whispering "I need to get you two out of here before the battle begins."

"And what are you going to do against all of us?"

"I don't have time for this," my hero said as he wheezed with each breath. "They are coming and I just don't have the time to sweet talk you. I don't want to hurt you, but I just don't have the time anymore." He was twisting around as if searching for an escape route. Pressing his hands against the sides of his head he said, "They are all coming, there's no time."

"You will just have to make the time, friend."

He snapped, "No!" and his hands shot out, pounding into the rat's chest. His face went white as the air burst out of his mouth and his body folded in two. "I can't wait," he screamed as he lifted his foot and smashed it into the intruder's head. The crack that followed was thunderous and his body went soaring backwards. "We must leave now," he ordered. A flash of light and the boom of a gun firing made my body quake. He twisted and his hand went out while he screamed, "Spermatophyta." I watched the bullet stop in the air and stay in place, spinning. He gestured with his hand and sent the bullet zipping away, making a twanging noise as it bounced off towards the exit.

Somebody cried out, "What the-" but it was met with flames shooting out from his hands. The men were screaming as he stomped through the doorframe, pushing a wall of fire as he went. The screams were unbearable as the men cried out in pain, forming some kind of cruel symphony.

Stepping out into the corridor I couldn't believe my eyes. If this was a dream, it wasn't like any dream or nightmare I had ever had before. The Handsome Johnny was spread out on the floor in a pool of blood.

Maria stared at the sight, whimpering.

"Oh Johnny, I am so sorry. I am so sorry." There was still terror in his eyes even though he was long past caring about anything that might happen here. Her eyes glistened and I was sure that she was about to cry, but she didn't. She just squeezed my hand and blankly stared at the man's body.

We were walking around the bodies trying not to disturb the dead, but there wasn't any way of passing the bodies without stepping in blood. I don't know why I felt so uneasy about it because once you were dead, you were dead. Well, I used to believe that. Now I wasn't sure what I believed. The narrow corridor felt restrictive and overbearing like it was designed to herd us in one direction only, and we were heading in the wrong direction.

Maria was still stuck on the Handsome Johnny's body and those hollow empty eyes. She felt no remorse or concern about the others laying there on the floor. I figured that Johnny had a lot of meaning in her life. He wasn't just her handler or her pimp. He was more than just a friend. Maybe even a lover, but if he was it wouldn't matter now because I was sure he was the sacrifice made to save my life.

"I didn't kill him. I don't use guns." My savior said. I can't tell if he was reading my mind or just assumed that I was thinking it. The way he forced out the answer made it clear that I was only an obligation and not someone he would ever care about. We were passing what I can only assume used to a living, breathing man lying on the floor with such a serene look in his eyes. His face looked hollow and the skin was dry and twisted until there was barely anything more than a skeleton left behind. It was hard to imagine that a life could be reduced to rough leathery skin covering hollow bones. The stranger didn't allow his gaze to touch him, but seemed to avoid him all together. This poor figure must have been the sacrifice that he had mentioned earlier. What did he say? To save a life you must take a life? I guess I should be thankful that Mike's prayers were heard.

At the end of the corridor he stopped and waved his hand in the air. He appeared to sneak around more like a thief rather than a hero. He was hiding in the shadows, listening for sounds and voices even though nobody was there. I should be grateful that he saved me, but watching how awkwardly he lead us to freedom was hard.

"It's safe," he said as he turned the corner and vanished from sight. With Maria in hand I followed as closely behind him as I could, leaving a few steps between us so as to not get in his way.

He was standing against the wall peering around the corner.

"It looks clear," he whispered, "but you need to..."

A pair of thick, muscled arms crashed the through the wall forcing the air from his lungs. Struggling, he kept trying to break free but couldn't quite manage it. He was kicking and twisting uncontrollably as he attempted to pry his way free.

"Run!" was all he could manage to spit out before his arms started to go limp like cooked spaghetti noodles.

Chapter THIRTY ONE

Mike

Looking at the old power plant with its four rows of giant windows, the only thought that filled my mind was that this wasn't going to end well for me. The minute I walked through the doors, my safe, simple life would never be the same. My entire life I had had the convenience and safety of watching the world live their lives as a bystander who might envy their happiest moments, but never had to worry about the saddest times that ultimately followed. I had pain and heart break, but most of the time it was the fact that reality didn't correspond with the visions that my imagination had built up. In my mind, I'd paint a sunny day with a warm breeze, but the real world brought nothing but rain. Now though, there was a good possibility that those rainy days were going to be replaced by a tornado. My heart couldn't be sheltered from such a storm. Especially not if I stepped through those metal doors.

Looking at The King I asked, "Is everything ready?" I hadn't really thought about it, but even if I won this battle I was going to be trapped in a war that would never end. Owning Jenny's heart was going to have a never-ending cost, but once this deed was done The King owned me just as much as a cross roads demon owned a man's soul. The only problem was, I wasn't quite sure which was more evil.

Leaning against the doors The King looked more like banker than a two-bit thug with his custom-tailored suit and spit-shined shoes. Adding in the way he spoke, it was too easy to imagine him sitting in a boardroom with executives and VP's planning business ventures and hostile takeovers instead of drug deals and prostitution. He was the ultimate example that looks can be deceiving.

"They finished wiring the whole place. The bottom two floors, at least. This had better work." He opened his jacket and patted his gun with his hand as he said, "If it doesn't though, I've always got Bessie. The tried and tested way of dealing with problems. Bullets are hard to swallow and I have a handful."

The idiot still thought that he could blast his way through this thing. Our only chance was that my plan would work. Taking advantage of a little folklore and a little modern technology was our best chance of not only winning this battle, but staying alive. There was terrifying feeling I had though, that even if we managed to win this war, there would a bloodier war that would follow. I was certain we would destroy one group of monsters tonight, but the other set I wasn't so sure about.

Reaching into my travel bag, I removed a flashlight and handed it to him. He took it, but seemed more concerned then he should have been as he pulled it from my hand.

"What am I supposed to do with this? Beat him over the head with it?" he muttered, shaking it in his hand. "This thing won't even leave a bump on their head," he said as he swung it through the air. "It you want a club or baseball bat, I have some nice ones in the trunk of the Lincoln."

I wanted to ask him how stupid he could possibly be. He was still looking at them as a human problem. Bullets might slow them down, but I think pissing them off was more likely to happen. I took a second flash light from my bag and twisted the handle. I watched the bright UV light breaking through the night. I let it shine right into his face and watched him cower away like he was the demon being tortured by the light.

"This is the only way we can win this. Bright powerful UV light."

Squinting his eyes, he raised his hand as he tried to block the light.

"Get that out of my face, priest." He said before I turned the light off, carefully placing it back into my bag. "So we're going to blind them?"

"No, think of what's inside there as a bomb," I said as I pointed towards the door. "And the flashlights act as handguns. If the bomb doesn't take them out, we will need these to stun them until we can run away."

"I don't run. I'm the reason other people run," he said as he pushed the flashlight into his pocket. "One way or another, this ends tonight. I can't keep losing young men to these two."

Stepping towards him I pointed and said, "Just remember our deal."

Opening his arms, he replied, "How could I forget? You haven't shut up about it since we made the damn deal."

"When you make a deal with the devil you want to make sure that there isn't any fine print." I enjoyed reminding him of such deals. He saw himself as a good catholic boy, and comparing him to a devil made him shiver. Well, maybe it was just being compared to one by me.

"You will get Mrs. Bailey. Broken like a two-year-old filly and running to you in search of a hero. Giggling, he added "Especially once we take out Wilson." I didn't like that part of the plan. It seemed wrong to kill a man just to claim a woman. Even if that man had used up all the goodness inside her until there wasn't anything left but shredded fragments of the woman I used to.

"Just keep your part of the bargain."

"Like I said Father Mike, you have huge balls. I might even say even bigger than some of the wise guys I grew up with," he said, snickering. Shaking his head, he muttered, "A priest with big balls, who would have figured?" The only thought that was going through my mind was that I hoped they stayed that big, as the more scared I felt the smaller they seemed to be getting.

The inside of the factory was almost eerie, covered in spider webs and dust. It was hard to balance myself as I stepped across the cracked, uneven floor.

"This is my secret entrance. It used to be one of those hand elevators." He motioning pulling with his hands.

"I had these spiral stairs put in a few years back. Safer than the main stairs,anyhow. You have to walk along the outside wall, otherwise you might find one of the weak spots. One wrong step and you'll break your leg like Jumbo did last year." I had no idea who Jumbo was, but the point was well taken.

We twisted our way up the stairs and the only sound was the echo of our footsteps pounding on the metal steps. The brick walls buckled outward and I was certain that at any moment that were going to collapse inward.

"Don't worry, Father Mike. This is the safest part of the whole building. I have enough soldiers hidden around to do the dirty work while we watch from a safe room."

It was the first indication of fear that I had ever seen in him, but then again if I had the option to watch other men die or join them, I would choose to watch too.

"So why did you bring Bessie if you have no intention of using it?"

"Just in case. I am by no means dumb enough to run into battle when I can sit back and stay alive instead. Being a hero is much nicer when you're alive rather than dead. " As we made it to the top of the stairs he stopped and patted me on the shoulder. "We have that in commonyou and me, Father Mike. We don't want to be heroes, we just want to appear like them. True heroes might be brave but they always die such horrible deaths." I hated him for what he said, but I wasn't sure if it was because he grouped us together like evil soul mates or because there was a touch of truth in his words.

A riveted steel door was hidden around the corner from the stairs with a faded number pad on the wall beside it.

"This is my safe room. Nobody knows about it and it's hard as hell to see." Pointing behind us towards a wide rusted door he said, "Everybody sees that big bastard and stops searching for the real treasure." Opening the door, he was beaming with pride over his so-called brilliance. He was proud of his little hidden gem and I could see its value, but was it going to be help us to stay hidden from non-human eyes?

The room was smaller than I expected. It had reinforced cement walls with long steel plates that ran along the walls and ceiling. A normal man couldn't stand up without knocking their heads on the ceiling. It was more like a crawl space than anything else. I wouldn't even call it a closet.

"So our safe room is a cement coffin?"

The big man was almost crawling as he made his way over towards a chair.

He laughed, "This little coffin as you call it is a state of the art safe room equipped with security cameras and a bullet-resistant door." The King pressed a button and two small doors slid open, revealing twelve small television screens that flickered as they came on one by one.

Climbing into the chair beside him, I was rather impressed by the picture. It was higher quality then I would have expected. Not like those cheap-ass cameras that you see at local convenience store. No, these were high quality infrared cameras.

Sitting forward he muttered, "I didn't build this hole, the previous owner of the building did. When he built it they called him a survivalist, but the trendy word these days is 'doomsday prepper.' Don't worry Father Mike, he believed in monsters too," as he pointed towards the corners. "He had crosses placed in the corners to keep out demons and shit like that."

"It's rather impressive. A safe house designed to repel anything that goes bump in the night."

"No, it's damn impressive. Didn't do him much good, though. He found himself torn apart one night. Just another unsolved murder in a city that seems to have a lot of them these days. Did you know Nathaniel? Seeing that you and his two brothers are such close friends?"

"Nathaniel? What would he want with a broken-down place like this?" I knew Nathaniel had many holdings, but this place shouldn't have had value to a man like him. Well, maybe commercial value, but despite his business success Nathaniel didn't care about financials. He had been living in his brothers' shadows for so long, he saw being better than them as his life's greatest challenge. He had to be smarter than Harrow and sweeter than Renaud.

It looked like he was about answer when a flash came across the bottom screen.

Pointing, the King muttered "Now who is that?"

The figure had a massive pair of arms wrapped around him as he struggled unsuccessfully to break free. He kept punching upward trying to escape, but he never came close to connecting with his target.

"Look at that ugly bastard's face. It looks like he climbed up the ugly tree, fell down, and climbed back up again." The man's hands were trying to break the grip of the arms held him. His face was darkening as he struggled to breath. His feet were flying upward and striking the wall, forcing his upper body forward with each blow. Every time his feet connected with the wooden wall, dust and plaster came tumbling down to the floor.

Laughing, the King mumbled, "That's my guy, Holland. Dumb as an ox, but just as strong as one. Once he gets his hands on you he's never letting go." The figure's arms were weakening and going limp. Whoever he was he had lost this battle, but he sure as hell gave it everything he had. Before his strength had been completely stolen, he swayed and seemed to be scream something.

Sitting on the edge of my chair I exclaimed, "Is there any sound?"

Waving his had he said, "No sound on that one, just in the two main rooms. I've never had a reason to want sound in the hallway before."

I wished that he had upgraded the whole damn lot of them. A small-framed woman in a torn dress slipped across the screen. She kept looking back and immediately started scanning the whole corridor as she slid against the wall directly across from the body of the dangling figure.

Jumping up, the King screamed "That back stabbing little bitch is trying to escape!" I was surprised that he hadn't slammed his head into the low ceiling.

"Maria is going to get it good for this betrayal, after all I did for her too!" The little woman vanished from the screen and the King started scanning all the other cameras one by one. Pointing at the original camera he grabbed his phone and dialed a number. "Tell Holland to let go of the freak and get Maria," He said, tapping his foot on the floor. "I don't care if he thinks the guy is still alive. Tell him to drop everything now and get Maria, unharmed." Slipping his phone back into his pocket he snarled, "I am surrounded by idiots."

The figure's lifeless body fell to the floor like a puppet who just had his strings cut. A second figure leapt down on him and immediately dropped her head to his chest. I couldn't see her face, but there was something about the way she moved that seemed similar. Slow and sexy at the same time. There was passion even in the way she ran her hands across his chest. It seemed more intimate then the event should have been.

Pointing at the third screen, the King said "There's your friend breaking into the place."

I saw a hand smash through the door. It had to be Harrow. He wouldn't show any kind of fear. I wasn't even sure if he knew what fear was anymore. The door was ripped open, sending little splinters of wood flying as the frame gave way under his strength. A flash followed and I saw Harrow fly backwards. "That's going to leave a scar."

"No, it's going to piss him off," I said. Shaking my head, I muttered, "And don't think that metal door is going to save you."

"Oh now it's not just me that needs to be saved. No Father Mike if the shit it's the fan we are both screwed."

"There's Holland. Look at the beautiful bastard. He will snap up Maria and drag her ass here." In the corner monitor I saw three men walking down the hallway. The massive one had to be Holland and he looked as mean as a rattlesnake. "He will be disappointed that you friend Harrow is dead." They turned the corner and jumped to another monitor. The bigger man didn't waste any time attacking the woman that the King called Maria. Grabbing her by the hair, he drove her face into the wall. "That's got to hurt," the King said under his breath. I watched helplessly as the man abused the poor young woman relentlessly. With one hand he lifted her off the floor, gripping her hair like she weighed nothing at all.

Another man grabbed hold of Jenny and yanked her to the floor. I could see the pain etched in her face like a blood stain on a white shirt. She was kicking and screaming as they hauled her away. This wasn't part of the plan, not by a long shot.

"Tell your man to stop hurting her!" I cried out, unable to keep watching.

"No, Father Mike. This is the first step in giving you what you always wanted. I just hope you don't mind a few scars scattered here and there." He was smiling with his hands crossed in front of him, rocking back and forth. "You've heard the saying, no pain no gain." I watched as the men pulled the women behind them as they went. The young one looked unconscious, but Jenny was a fighter and fought every step. As her tantrum increased, the man charged with apprehending her stopped. With a single punch he knocked her out. This wasn't what I asked for. Not even close.

"Son of a bitch," the King said as he sat back down, lowering his head. I stared at the screen he was entranced by. Harrow had burst into the building. Blood was gushing from his eye, or at least where his eye was supposed to be. If the King wanted a display of strength, he just got it. The door was torn in two like he was ripping through a piece of paper. "That can't be real. He was shot in the head. That's just not possible..." I slipped out of the room, leaving the King to see what kind of monster he was fighting. I was about to fight a monster of my own. My monster was dragging the woman I loved down the hall because I didn't read the fine print in the contract I signed with the devil.

Chapter THIRTY TWO

Harrow

Some would look into the darkness and see the echoes of death when they peered inside an abandoned factory like this. It's the unknown that causes the human imagination to go rampant and allows the images that live inside their minds to come alive. It makes their hearts race and they suddenly find themselves creating the evil they fear. I was like that once, when I was human. Most of the horrors I feared in the darkness never came true. Time had shown me that most people live their lives in fear. Humans would create fears that could never come true. It was that small percentage that that killed me. There was always that 1% of things we feared that could kill us. I was a part of that select group and inside this building somewhere was Jenny's 1%. The King! This city isn't big enough to allow 2% to co-exist. No it was time that all the over evils were wiped out. To restore the balance.

My one eye twisted as I forced my way into the building, scanning every corner. One side of my face had taken the full brunt of the attack. I was aware that there wasn't an eye left to twist and it was only a phantom one created by my mind, but it was annoying as hell. The place looked unused and forgotten, but a scattered set of footprints in the dust told me it was a lie. The room was just as I expected it to be. Rough concrete walls stood out above the old cracked boards that were placed along the bottom of the wall. Hanging from two thin wires was a double barrel 410 shotgun. I ran my fingers along the barrel, noting that it still felt warm to the touch. I pushed it and watched it rock, thinking about how this little piece of metal and wood was so deadly to most people. Luckily, I wasn't like most people that would try to enter this place. This little thing certainly would have done its job if I was still alive.

"Oh how cute," Mihaela giggled as she playfully pushed on the barrel of the shotgun. "They still think that they're fighting humans." Still tapping the end of the gun, she smiled. "If this is the best they have to offer, they'll be disappointed. Greatly disappointed."

"Yes, before we even stepped through the door they blew a hole in Harrow's face. Easy peesy, right," Murlin muttered as she stepped in. "It's never that easy. Being a predator and feeding on wounded prey for so long has made you forget it."

Looking up at the ceiling, I could see freshly run wiring that seemed to attach to round lights that resembled bug eyes. It appeared that they were meant to be recessed lights, but whoever installed them was in such a hurry that they had just fastened them and left the loose wires dangling.

"What do you think of this mess?" No professional would run wires in such a way that is for sure.

"Men don't take pride in their work like they did when I was a child. A true craftsman would spend weeks if not months building one amazing piece of furniture."

Murlin snorted.

"If you like your ancestors and their handwork so much, I can send you back to them, no problem." She flicked her fingers, forcing a little spark to dance in the air. She was also examining the mishmash of wires. "I think that this handiwork was rushed not because of lack of skill, but because of lack of time." Maybe they were expecting us. Maybe the wounded prey was just playing possum, waiting for the time to strike. A flash of blue electricity crackled from Murlin's fingertips and popped into the corner. "I don't like being watched," she muttered as a little round camera started to smoke.

"I can't believe I missed that," Mihaela snorted as she walked closer to the corner. "It was certainly well hidden, that's for sure. Very well hidden indeed." That was the troubling part. Murlin didn't scan the room to find it. The wires and oddly shaped lights caught her attention like their mere existence confused her, but she simply turned around and found the camera. She might be older then both of us, but her senses were nothing compared to ours. She was designed to blend in with the world of the living. She loved sunshine, tasted human food, and loved it like all living beings. She was so much more than human, only she shared their needs and desires. We were designed for this type of environment. Our eyes were made to see deep into the darkness. Even now, I could read the small black letters that read "Made in Canada" that were hidden along the bottom of the light. It wasn't worth asking because she wouldn't tell us how she knew the camera was there, no matter how many times we asked.

Murlin marched towards the opening at the other end of the room. It wasn't too hard to realize that she had been here before, or at least had some intimate knowledge of the place. Most people saw the swing in her hips and the way her curves ran the length of her body thought she was helpless woman to be conquered, but never feared. I saw a warrior. Even now, when I took the time to look in her eyes, I was afraid.

"I'll scout ahead," she said and before I even had a chance to respond she leapt through the air, changing from one form to another.

Mihaela was about to snap hold of her before she could run deeper into the building to be lost from sight, but I stopped her.

"What are you doing?" she snapped as she tried to break away from my grasp. "I might have been able to kill her in her cat form!"

"Or she might have tried to kill you. Or even worse, you might have accomplished it."

Shrugging, she said, "So?"

Mihaela was much older than me, but so naive about many things.

"Her kind are our enemies. It's been that way since the beginning."

"If you managed to kill her you would have to deal her master. Renaud is as much of a monster as the rest of us."

Smiling, she ran her hands across my cheek.

"Your brother spared my life twice now. I am not worried about him." Kissing my cheek, she whispered, "Daddy, aren't we family after all?"

"Don't ever play that card, kitten. Don't depend on human connections with whatever my brother is. Murlin is joined to him like they're a pair of Siamese twins. You hurt her and he will kill us both."

"Oh Daddy, you worry too much," she said as she walked along the wall in the narrow opening. I stayed in the rear, scanning as we went. Heartbeats pitter-pattered in every direction. So many, in fact, that I had a hard time determining how many people there were. It was like walking into a night club and trying to determine where the loudest speaker was. Everything blended and merged until it became one sound.

Without even looking back, Mihaela said, "There's twelve."

A faint rosy smell was floating through the air. It wasn't strong, but there was the definite aroma of perfume. Generally, I would have thought that it was coming from far away, but I knew that it had to Jenny. It was her brand and she was here. I just needed to find her.

"Twelve what?"

"Twelve heartbeats. I think it's going to be an interesting night, Daddy. Very interesting indeed." Holding up a finger, she slowly turned and faced the wall, waiting. Raising an eyebrow, she smiled,

"Can you hear it, Daddy?"

There were too many heartbeats for me to pinpoint a specific location. The salty smell was strong, though. It stood out like a beacon at sea. My maker was much older and she had many lifetimes of experience to fall back on. Her former master trained her to be deadly, to hunt and to survive.

"Yes Kitten, I can smell it."

Tapping the wall with her finger she walked further into the room, whispering, "I am a very naughty girl, Daddy." The slow tapping sound kept echoing as she said, "I feel so naughty and now I want to play." She stopped and waited. A sudden explosion of rapid beating followed and I knew he was close by. Terrified and in the dark he waited, preparing for his time to strike. I could hear a light clicking sound as he put his finger on the trigger, waiting for the right time to shoot. Mihaela sang out, "Tap, tap, tap." Each time, her razor sharp fingernail dug into the wall.

"Got him!" She shouted as she drove her hand through the wall. The sound of her hand going through the wall was drowned out by a high pitched squeal that lasted no longer then ten seconds. That ten seconds of agony heard by all was enough for fear to snuff out the bravery in the strongest man's soul. Little broken pieces of blood stained lumber came flying out as she ripped her hand free. Holding her hand in the air, I could see blood trickling down from the human heart she was holding. She licked her arm and smiled. "Am I a naughty girl, Daddy?"

I watched a small stream of blood bubble out through the hole in the wall, leaving a wide red stain as it made its way down to the floor. She wasn't just naughty, she was batshit crazy, and that was exactly what we needed.

"Yes kitten, you're a very naughty girl."

Dropping the heart on the floor, she licked her fingers and then pointed to a small set of wooden stairs.

"They're up there, Daddy. Shall we go and get them, or can I play a little more?"

'Play a little more' was her way of asking if she could she hunt the whole first floor. I wasn't sure that it would be a good idea, though. She would kill everybody that she came in contact with. Not just the criminals we came to get, but every heartbeat on this floor would stop if I told her that she could play. I walked over to the stairs and the flowery fragrance from before was stronger and seemed to mingle with some kind of lavender smell. Yes, I think Jenny was definitely up on one of the upper floors. Mihaela would be a good distraction and give me time to rescue Jenny.

Touching my cheek, she whispered, "You finish what you came here to do and let me take care of everything else."

I nodded and walked towards the narrow stairs. Letting her loose tonight meant that our time here in the city of my birth was nearly over. We couldn't call this cement jungle of decay our sanctuary anymore, but at least the Jenny issue would be finished tonight. My brother, on the other hand had no real ending. We were like the two faces of a coin and like most things that are connected in such a way, at some point it must be broken.

"Daddy?"

I turned and saw her watching me. "Yes, Kitten?"

"If you must choose between your life and Jenny's, make sure you make the right choice. I need you." With that being said, she took off into the labyrinth of hallways and rooms that filled the bottom floors. I slowly made my way up the stairs step by step, listening to the creaking sound as I climbed them. Screams from the other side of the wall had already started. My real issue was I hadn't exactly decided what the right choice was.

Those damn creaky stairs seemed to be designed to announce my presence. At the top of the stairs there was the smell of Old Spice and two specific heartbeats. One a controlled season killer and the other a terrified rookie. They were drawn to me and in waiting. I stepped onto the landing and slipped into the corner, protected from their gaze. I wanted them to come to me rather than have to come to them. Bullets wouldn't kill me, but the more that entered, the more that eventually had to come out. Despite what people might think, it burned like fire when they're torn out of your body.

One of them gulped some air and then slowly his heartrate began to slow down until it almost matched the seasoned professionals. Damn it, I hadn't quite determined which one was on the other side of the wall closest to me yet. They were waiting me out. Certainly the rookie was waiting for a sign to attack. I waited, hoping to hear a rapid heartbeat start, but it didn't. The rookie must be holding his breath. I slid along the wall, trying not to make any movements that would cause a creak or scuffling noise. The dim light from the other side of the door left no shadows that I could use to determine who was the closest, so I just stood there waiting. It sounded like some kind of frog at first. A slight croaking noise right on the other side of the wall. I'm not even sure what was causing it. A nervous man's body could cause the weirdest things to happen and the nervous man here had to be the inexperienced one.

I jumped to the other side of the doorway so fast that human eyes would only see a slight blur, if they saw anything at all. The movies always showed my kind as having lightning-fast reflexes and super human speed, but what they didn't tell you is that it also strips away your energy as well.

"What the hell was that?" a soft, dull voiced asked.

"Shut up, junior," a deeper-toned voice whispered from the other side of the wall. It was exactly what I needed to hear. The sign that told me who had experience and who was the novice. I turned and with all the strength I had I drove my first through the wall. As soon as my hand felt warm flesh I knew that I had connected with the back of his head and even if he somehow managed to survive, he wouldn't be troubling anyone again.

"Dad!" the younger one cried out and a short haired man jumped through the doorway with what I thought was a gun. Turning as he landed, a bright bluish light flashed me. It was so pure that it burned as it touched my hand. He tried to bring me directly into his sights, but he was too slow to make the UV light touch any more of my body. He was only human after all. With a quick, well aimed punch I heard his windpipe break and saw him fly backwards and land on the floor. I didn't waste any time on him. In one swift motion, I ended his life. The modern age wasn't very vampire friendly, I thought. Battery powered sunlight meant that the King came prepared. I walked through the door, pushing the new weapon the kid had from my mind. If they had one or a hundred and one of those damn lights, it wouldn't make a difference now. I was already too far committed to walk away and they were too invested to let me take what I came for without a fight. I couldn't help but wonder if Junior had a brother or two that could carry on the family name, or if I had wiped out their entire family.

There was a sound like a swarm of angry bees headed straight for me. I stepped into the empty hallway looking in both directions and, with the exception of long skid marks that trailed away further down, there was nobody else there. I headed down the hall towards the sound, trying to decide what else had the King had found to throw at me. Another scream from below meant that whatever they had wasn't affecting Mihaela and her playtime. In the distance, I saw the dim light turn into a bright, clear beam and charge straight at me. I turned to run away, realizing too late that the light was burning in my direction from the other side as well. The wall of artificial sunshine was not only trapping me from all directions, but blocking my escape. I dove forward and was immediately hit from above, feeling the burn as it touched my flesh.

"Daddy, help me!" I heard from below. "Daddy, I need you!"

Chapter THIRTY THREE

Renaud

It wasn't sunshine, but it felt just as bright. The clear light that touched my body from above was like being touched by a piece of heaven. When you have spent as much of your life as I have looking up from below, you can't help but wonder how the other half lives. Not the popes or saints of the world, but the common man's paradise where you finally learn the answers to all your questions. At least, that's how I liked to think of heaven. I guess we all have a person or a place that we romanticize about. For me, it was the idea that some people get to live in a place without torment. That soulmates truly existed and for a few lucky bastards there was a happy ever after that lasted beyond the grave. Those were the thoughts that filled my mind as I woke up to the bright flickering light above me. My neck throbbed and it felt tight, which I knew was from the lost battle that I had just endured. If I was still human it would have snapped my neck like a twig, but I wasn't human anymore. Each time the light flashed, my head started to pound a little more. I couldn't concentrate. My mind was still drifting somewhere between reality and a dream.

Opening my eyes brought a whole new meaning to blinding pain. The sheer power of the flashing light was like having a hot poker stabbing into my eye socket with so much force that it pounded all the way to the back of my head. I tried to concentrate on the area right in front of me and far as I could see it was empty, but I couldn't trust my eyes. With such an attack, they watered and burned so even if somebody was standing right before me I probably would have missed them. I laid there gathering my strength, trying to remember which direction Jenny had went when I told her to flee, but I was still confused about which direction she followed. I slapped the floor and cried out, "Contremísce," and I felt the floor begin to tremble. Covering my head, I felt small shards of glass come smashing down on me like a hail storm.

The corridor wasn't dark, but was dim enough that I was finally able to see. Still laying there, I saw two sets of foot prints heading down away from my location. Good, at least they got away, I thought. Maybe not to freedom, but they escaped this part of the trap. I stumbled to my feet, but soon needed to brace myself as I felt lightheaded. I guess I was still feeling the effects of my ordeal. 'Ordeal' sounded much better than getting my ass handed to me by a mortal man. When I felt strong enough, I headed towards the shining light at the end of the hallway, following in their footsteps.

At the end of hall, I heard groaning and smelt something burning. It reminded me of roasting pork and the savage screams coming from around the corner came from an animal that I had never heard before. I looked around the corner and saw a man's body burning in the distance. He was struggling to make his way to the open doorway that was only a mere six feet away. A hot white flame was dancing on the man's flesh as a cloud of white smoke rose from his body. The flames were so strong and bright that it appeared like he was doused in gasoline. I felt sorry for the man and decided to put him out of his misery. I knew that causing his death would add a stain to my soul, but letting him burn alive would be just cruel. Placing my hands on the walls on either side of me, I closed my eyes and focused on the burning body before me. I screamed, "Quad," but instead of dying and turning to dust the figure kept crawling away. This was impossible, I thought. No mortal man could live through this. Concentrating on the disfigured body I shouted it again, "Quad," but nothing happened. Still, the creature screamed in agony.

"Mihaela, I am coming!" The corpse called out. Suddenly I understood why my spell hadn't killed him. He had already died a long time ago and a spell meant to kill humans couldn't possible wipe out the undead. He was still dragging his crippled body calling out to Mihaela like a lost child trying to find his mother. I warned them that Harrow was going to be coming, I just never realized that they were prepared for it. Lifting my arm, I shouted "Contremísce," and felt the hallway quake and shake beneath my feet. One by one, the lights shattered all along the way down to where Harrow struggled to survive. I wanted to run to him, but my legs didn't have the strength. They could barely carry me, let alone run, but the thing burned to a crisp and screaming for help was still my brother. The way he was calling for his creator made him seem like he was human. He almost seemed like he was capable of love.

He didn't seem worth saving, though. He wasn't the man I knew anymore and certainly not the boy I grew up with and loved. His charred body looked helpless and fragile in its current state. I knelt beside him and gently laid my hand on his body. All that was left was stone-like muscle beneath leathery flesh that reminded me of beef jerky. If I was alive, I wouldn't be able eat that ever again. I didn't want to see him suffer anymore. He was in pain and there was nothing I could do to heal him. The day he was turned made sure I could never save him again. The only justice I could do his was to end his misery here and now.

I grabbed his head and whispered, "Goodbye, brother. I am sorry I can't save you."

He opened his white eyes and croaked, "Save us." There wasn't much more than a skull and fangs left of him. Again, he moaned, "Save us, brother," and despite wanting to send him to hell where all his kind belonged, I couldn't do it. Call me weak, but we had blood ties and he was here in this position trying to do the right thing.

"I can't save you. My blood is poison."

With his face burned away, his long dangerous fangs looked like daggers as he spoke, "Save Mihaela. Save her,please."

I scanned the halls in both directions, but his mate was nowhere to be found. There were long lines through the dust and dirt like someone had been dragged away.

"Did they take her?" I asked as I pointed towards the two thick lines. Why anyone would want to kidnap a monster I will never know.

Slowly, he patted the floor with his boney hand he said, "No, below. Stop the lights. It's killing her." Rolling on his side he pleaded, "Stop the lights below us."

Looking through the doors I could see bright lights exploding from below and there seemed to be a buzzing noise beneath my feet. The King certainly knew how to trap vampires, but how did he know that they were vampires? That's not exactly something monsters bragged about. It was an interesting event for sure. I slammed my hand on the floor shouted, "Mico." Below me, it sounded like a hundred chandeliers were breaking and it felt like the world went silent.

I went to move him when he reached out withhis trembling hands and pointed towards the hallway.

"Save Jenny." He whispered, hoarsely. That damn woman seemed to have her claws in every man she met, including a dedicated priest and a soulless vampire. She was corrupting heaven and hell at the same time. I guess we all paid a price one time or another for loving her. My price had just started decades before the others, but it seemed to me now that every man who loved her suffered. So far, two out the three I knew of paid with their lives. Would Mike be next?

"I can't just leave you here to die. Jenny can wait."

"No, save her. Leave me, I will feed. Go!"

I heard rapid footsteps coming from beyond my view. Whoever it was wasn't sneaking around, but charging straight at us. Harrow whispered again, "Leave me."

"I can't and I won't."

"You must save Jenny. I promised."

I placed my hand on his shoulder like I did when we were kids. Trouble always seem to follow him, or maybe he searched for it.

"Don't worry, I got this covered," I told him.

He laughed as he pointed, "He's bigger than when we were kids."

I looked up and saw older man carrying a flashlight in his hand. It looked like the ones they had placed above me.

"Die, you bastard!" he cried out as he shone the light at me. I was temporarily blinded and tried to block it with my arm. The man was waving the light from left to right, still running at us. The light bounced from me to Harrow and his body started smoking. Harrow gritted his teeth and tried to fight the pain, but it was too much. After all, he had already been burnt to a crisp.

"Put the light away," I snapped, trying to protect my eyes. Keeping my arm up, I stood up and walked towards him. He was silent and kept wildly swinging the light. Whether he thought that he would intimidate me by doing thator was trying to smash my head in with the flashlight itself, I wasn't sure.

"Listen, man. I don't want to hurt you." Pointing towards Harrow he said, "You aren't like those things.

He jumped back as I stepped towards him. People got scared in the dark and I didn't blame them. I had seen the things that go bump in the night. They aren't very pretty and they always attack. This guy should have called in sick tonight. I might have saved his life.

"I was about to say the same thing, my friend." Waving my hand, I said, "Assideat." His hands went weak and the flashlight dropped to the floor. I caught him as he tipped over, which wasn't a small feat considering my every muscle felt like mush. It took everything I had to lower him to the floor and not drop him. I was about to sentence him to death, but I didn't want to be cruel about it. The way the light touched his face he looked more like what he truly was. A frightened man realizing that, for the first time, he was on his death bed. It was one of the events in every man's life that they had to face. I had faced it, as well as the monster lying against the wall and countless others.

I whispered, "I am sorry for what I am about to do." He couldn't react, but he knew what I was saying to him. He might not understand the consequences of my actions, but he would be aware of what was happening right until the very end. I gently whispered "Spermatophyta," and he was trapped.

I kicked the light away and then dragged the man's body over to Harrow.

"Why?" was all he could manage to croak out. It was a valid question considering innocent blood on my hands couldn't just be washed off. It was a stain on my soul that would never fade and I would be forced to carry it forever.

I dropped the man beside him and said, "I got you covered." It seemed to me that it was all I ever did in life. Fight, cry, and die for my brother. No matter what sins he did against me, I always fought to protect and save him. Dropping Harrow on top of the man I had just condemned I got up and started following the trail that was left behind.

I made my way, following the trail left behind. I decided to try to hide my true identity. Running my hands over my face, I said, "Abscondas," and felt atingling sensation, which would soon be replaced by burning. Endless burning.

The brutish sound of a starving vampire feeding is something no man wants to hear. I expected it, but it didn't happen. At first, I thought he was waiting until I was far enough away not to hear the result of my actions, but when I turned around he was frozen in place. His fangs were out and he was so close to the victim's throat that just seeing it made my stomach quiver. The mere idea that the man would be drained alive and all he could do was hope Harrow finished him off quickly unnerved me. He looked like he was caught in a cold snap and frozen in place.

"Harrow?" I called out. He couldn't be dead because vampires burned away when they died. Their bodies disintegrated from the inside out, leaving nothing but dust and ash in their place.

I knelt and touched him. His flesh was hard and stiff like stone. More statue-like then anything else. I whispered "Surgit," but nothing happened. He should have woken up by now. I pressed my hand on his forehead and repeated the spell, feeling the whole building shake as I released the magic. My fingers were stiff like an elderly man's as I tried to force the magic through my fingers, but Harrow wouldn't wake. Something stronger than me had taken away his spark.

"You can't wake him, master. No one can." Murlin was leaning against the wall, pointing to Harrow's lifeless frame. "You can't undo this. You can't trade your life to save him."

I stood up, trembling with anger.

"Did you do this,Murlin?" Her long face didn't show any emotionless. "What did you do,Murlin? Tell me what you did." Pointing back at Harrow's still body I ordered, "Set him free, right here and now!"

"I can't undo something that I didn't put in place. Even if I had the power to change this, I wouldn't. I came to save you and you are now safe. My task has been completed. Your brother came to save Jenny. A task that can be fulfilled."

"Who placed the spell, Murlin? Who has so much power that it cannot be undone?" She was silent and didn't even look me in the eyes. "Who did it?" I lifted my hands in the air in frustration squeezing my fists together, trying to calm myself. "Tell me now,Murlin. "

"I won't tell you. Harrow isn't one of our kind anymore."

"You will tell me or so help me I will..." It was an empty threat because I couldn't harm her anymore then she could harm me, but desperation and fear bring out the worst in us and there was a lot of bad inside me. Too much bad, in fact, and even if he was responsible in one way or another for everything bad that had ever happened in my life he was still my brother.

"You will what, master?" Her eyes began to glow bright red. "I serve you loyally and you threaten me in return?" Her arms were trembling with rage as she moved closer. I was certain that she was going to send me back to hell as she came at me, but then her eyes cooled and she whispered, "This cannot be undone. It is not by my design or yours."

"I will not leave him this way," I said as I stormed over, trying to decide how I was going to change something that I simply didn't understand the cause of. Murlin knew the spell that caused this. Why wouldn't she tell me who cast the spell? "He isn't dead, is he?"

"No, the spell was meant to trap him if he ever fed inside here. It wasn't meant to destroy him, just to trap him here." She wasn't lying, that was for sure. She couldn't lie to me. She was refusing to answer, which wasn't the same as lying. I just had to ask the right questions in a way that she couldn't lie.

"When I was dead, did you wait for me or serve a new master?" I had always assumed that she had just waited, but now I was starting to wonder if my assumption was wrong.

"I waited for my true master and served another." Fidgeting nervously, she kept moving her legs and looked around like a frightened child. "Master, leave this be. It's for the best. It's better for the world, better for you, and certainly better for your bloodline. It was by design that if he came here he would never leave."

"Who did you serve?" 'Better for my bloodline' was something that I had heard my whole life. I couldn't explain why because I didn't remember who said those simple words, only that I had heard them.

"I won't answer that, Master. I can't answer that." I bit into my hand, opening a giant round jagged gash that stung like hell and bled out like a gunshot wound. Placing my hand on Harrow's forehead, I decided that this would either free him or kill him. Either way, he was none the worse for it and I could at least take comfort in the fact that I had tried. Stepping closer, Murlin realized what I was doing and screamed, "No, master! Not a blood spell!"

Clarity came from those words. I now knew who created the spell and why. She would have served my bloodline and Nathanial was the master she served before me. Only he could have trapped Harrow this way. A spell from the family collection of spells. If only I could just force life back into the lifeless. I said "Rebus," and felt my arms shake. Smoke rose from the spots where my blood touched his flesh as I continued, "Ego præcipiotibi, ut vivere."

Something went through me. Not an object like a bullet or a knife, though. I didn't know what it was, but I know that it passed through me with enough force that it shook the wall as it connected and created an immense hole big enough to walk through. As my body trembled and a haze took over I thought I heard Murlin crying out for me, but I couldn't really tell. What I do remember was thinking that she had just betrayed me. She broke a thousand-year-old oath and just ended the bloodline she had served. My bloodline.

Chapter THIRTY FOUR

Mike

I made my way through the narrow corridors turning here and there, trying to avoid the cameras when I could, but I figured the King knew where I was at all times. I was starting to regret the UV light idea just about now. I had come prepared by bringing sunglasses, but they weren't as effective as I thought they would be. What had I gotten myself into? I had teamed up with a gangster who happened to be a world class asshole so that I could trick the woman I had loved since high school to want me and in the process of all this, I had betrayed a friend. Harrow wasn't a good friend of mine anymore, but we still had history.

As I turned the corner the whole place shook like an earthquake had passed right beneath the building. It was a strange feeling, trying to walk with the floor vibrating under my feet. It left this tingling sensation all the up my legs like the burn after a hard workout. Not that I went to the gym that often, but everything physical usually feels like a workout to me. Well it did, but since last night I felt so much stronger. I'm still not sure what Harrow did to me, only that everything about me seemed bigger and stronger.

A series of clicking and clanging noises came at me from around the corner as the vibrations beneath my feet grew stronger. This was the part where everybody thinks that the hero runs away and either swings to safety on a rope, or dives into another room just in time to avoid death. Not today, he doesn't. Everything shook, so I had placed my hands on the wall and braced myself for the worst of it when I saw it coming like a blizzard. Shards of glass and some kind of white cloud headed right for me like a wild storm. I closed my eyes and held my breath as it passed right over me. Something powerful had broken every one of the lights that we had just installed. It was most likely Harrow and if he was in a bad mood before, he was going to be irate now.

The dust settled and I cleaned the glass that had stuck to my clothes. Luckily, I had worn my thick old suit and not one of the lighter ones. I ran my fingers across my neck and felt the pinch of fine little grains of glass cutting into my skin. My hand was splattered with blood, which only added to the tension knowing that blood sucking predators were lurking around somewhere. Preaching about the evils around us and knowing they were in the same building wasn't the same thing. I felt like one of those guys who preaches about what he would do if he won the lottery. You know the type that have grand plans about investments and how they will never have to spend the principal they those chosen few who actually win the lottery go broke within a few years. That was me. Too many divine plans and yet when I see evil I made a deal to own a pretty woman's heart.

I stepped towards the corner and part of me said to run away. To go home and forget it all. Return to my simple life, because the minute I'd step around the corner it would all change. The minute I took those three steps I would be committed to either saving Jenny or owning her, but I could never turn back. I peered around the corner and saw the vague silhouette of a massive man. The little emergency lights that were placed along the corridor helped accent his sheer size. He was rubbing his skin and appeared to be pulling pieces of glass from his shoulders. That might be just the thing to attract Harrow. The smell of fresh blood would attract him like a wild wolf.

A flash of clear, bluish light struck my face. I held up my hand, trying to shield my eyes.

"Get that thing out of my face."

"You must be the priest that the boss has been looking for." He kept the light aimed at my eyes as he walked towards me. I tried to see what he had in the other hand, but it was virtually impossible.

"You really pissed him off, priest." He kept the light in my eyes as he walked towards me, which generally indicated that there was something in the other hand. "You know, he offered you a sweet deal. Having him as a friend makes life a lot easier. If someone pisses you off, he sends a guy like me to take care of things."

"Get the light out of my face. It's not doing anything but pissing me off." It was at this point I realized that he was holding a bat or something in his hand. With those massive arms, a bat or stick would easily pulverize my flesh or shatter my bones.

Stomping closer to me, he said, "Disappointing him means a guy like me getting up in your face and that is where things get messy."

He swung the bat at my head and instinct kicked in. I leapt backwards. Not just a foot or two, but six feet back.

There was a loud clunk and whatever he had swung at me was stuck into the wall. It was not baseball bat, that was for sure. When my eyes focused, I realized that he had a machete. He yanked it out of the wall like it was nothing and stepped towards me. It's at times like this that the stupidest things go through your mind, like what kind of guy tries to cut off your head with a machete? The kind that a gangster sends after you, I guessed.

I was holding my hands out in front of me as I slowly backed up.

"Holland. That's your name, right?" He didn't say anything, but just stepped closer holding that damned machete in his hand waiting for a chance to hack my head off. "You don't have to do this. It's just a misunderstanding, that's all."

Smiling, he said, "Yes, it's always a misunderstanding. The boss wants you dead and you don't want to die. A giant, nasty misunderstanding." I was backing away from him when I realized that I was quickly running out of space.

"You don't have to do this, Holland." Even in this dim light, the sharp blade twinkled as the light hit the blade.

"Maybe not, but I want to. I would kill for free if I had to. I even like it." His arm went back as he prepared to strike. I ran towards him at such a rapid speed that by the time he realized what I was doing I had clamped onto the arm that was holding the blade. I could only speculate that Harrow's blood made me so much more than human.

In confusion, Holland cried out.

"What the hell?"

I whipped his arm around with all the strength I had in me. A loud pop followed as his shoulder dislocated and a second, even louder crunching noise could be heard as his body was pounded into the wall. The air from his lungs was driven out, making a gushing noise and he dropped to his knees, half stunned by the impact. Crouched over, he was holding his shoulder and hacking to the point that I thought he was going to throw up. The problem was, what do I do now? I wasn't tough or a brawler and the last time I can remember throwing a punch was back in grade six when I sat in chocolate and Harrow told the whole school I dirtied myself. It was the first time I had tasted Renaud's family loyalty. I beat up Harrow and Renaud beat me up. Strange how that one little fight started our friendship. That was the extent of my fighting experience, only I don't think I will be able to call Holland a friend after this like I did as a child.

Something told me that I should have knocked him out, but he seemed beaten.

He was still gasping for air as he looked at me and vowed, "I am going to kill you." He was trying to climb to his feet on wobbly legs, all the while muttering, "I am going to tear you a new one, priest."

Grunting, he pushed himself upward and with his uninjured hand he made a fist and swung. Stepping back, I thought that I had cleared his reach, but I misjudged it and got the brunt of it. My jaw ached as I hit the wall and he came charging at me. I pushed him off me, watching him collide against the wall.

"This is starting to be fun," he said with a smile as he started charging at me as fast as he could. Panic set in and I was lost at what I should do. So far, I had just been lucky and luck always seemed to run out when you needed it the most. As he came at me, instinct forced both of my fists to snap out, connecting with his face and sending bloody teeth spilling out of his mouth. His eyes rolled and he fell to the floor, the only sign of life being the twitching of his hands.

"Stay down, Holland," I said as I walked away in the direction that he came from. I tried to sound tough and confident, hoping that it would be enough to make him stay even though I was terrified about what would happen if he didn't. I could see a body left lying motionless in a bed of glass so I walked towards it. I wasn't foolish enough to take my eyes off Holland for long since, but I could see he wasn't feeling so tough right now.

I was standing over the young blonde I had witnessed being dragged away by Holland earlier. He called her Maria and she looked like she couldn't be any older then eighteen. Twenty, tops. It was a shame that she had gotten herself trapped in this kind of life. I was sure that she wasn't the youngest or most innocent girl to be forced to endure the King's company, but tonight she had the chance to find her freedom. To find her security and protection against this life.

It seemed reasonable that Jenny should be laying somewhere close by, but I couldn't find her anywhere amongst the rubble. I wanted to run further down and search for her, but I didn't have time for that luxury. Jenny was lost out there in the dark with two vampires for guardians scanning the whole place for her while this young, defenseless woman only had me. Good or bad, I was the only protection she had. I leaned down and felt for a pulse. It felt weak to me, but I wasn't a doctor.

"Don't worry child, I will protect you." I whispered.

I was startled by a loud laugh from behind me.

"I thought priests didn't lie, Father Mike. You shouldn't be making promises that you have no possible way of fulfilling." I heard loud footsteps clomping along towards me. Looking back, I saw the King and one of his sidekicks slowly approaching. "I would rather kill Maria then let her go and she needs to punished for her disobedience."

"I think we both know that I can't just walk away and leave her in your hands. You know as well as I do that the minute I walked out of that room, I chose to cross a line." I wasn't trying to be brave. I wasn't a brave man. I was just stalling for time hoping that an even more dangerous monster would come to collect on old debts. I might have beaten his champion, but I was aware that it had been just a lucky punch in the dark.

"Yes, you chose a side, Father Mike. The losing side." He took two steps and continued talking. "I didn't want to be your enemy. I was willing to give you power. The power to own and control your darling Jenny and you just threw it away." He pulled his gun Bessie out of his holster and I prepared to die. No, prepared wasn't the proper term for it. I was forced to except death, as I couldn't control this outcome.

I couldn't run away from my destiny. I could only challenge what I didn't like and accept what I couldn't change.

"I am very disappointed in you, Father Mike. Do you know what I do to people who disappoint me?"

I didn't know what to say, really. I didn't think there was a right or wrong answer always depended on his mood and what he wanted. Men like him were like that.

"Anything you want."

"Yes, you're right." Pointing to Holland who was still lying on the floor. "You know, I loved this magnificent son of a bitch. Recruited him right off the football team here at the local high school. I molded him into the man that he is today. I couldn't be prouder, even if he was my own son." He was waving the gun around, "Today he disappointed me." Shaking his head, he said, "Such a great disappointment." He pulled the trigger and shot Holland twice in the head. I had never seen a man get shot before. "I end them. I remove the disappointments from my life and forget about them."

"What a lonely existence you must have," was all I could say.

Laughing, he responded, "Oh Father Mike, I am never lonely," He kept waving the gun around. "If I want to talk, I have the boys come over and if I want company there's women." Pointing at Maria, he said "I have spent many quality nights with Maria, there." Stepping closer he added, "No, I think you are the one who has the lonely existence. You crave things you can never have. You tried to overcome this by becoming a priest, but it never could quite take away those lonely desperate feelings in the middle of the night when you woke up longing to feel a female touch. Jenny's touch."

He was getting so close to the truth that it made me want to lash out and knock him on his ass. It was always the nights when I felt the loneliest. During the day, I was ok. Always busy with secrets and confessions. Playing referee between old, sour married couples and mentor to young lovers. By the end of the day though, it took its toll on me.

I was always exhausted then my mind flips through the list. The list of things that I thought I would accomplish. Those lost dreams and desires that never quite went away. They'd just get pushed down a little deeper in my heart until finally I'd wake up in the middle of the night and be unable to forget them.

"So we both are great liars. You lie to everybody and I lie to myself. A good lie can easily become a person's reality if they say it enough."

Laughing, he let the gun drop to his side.

"Yes, a good lie can be better than a hundred truths if the liar believes his own lie." I was good at talking people down. Drugs addicts and irate abusive husbands mostly, but the odd bully too. The King was a grown-up schoolyard bully who got his way by sheer power of will and intimidation, but I think I got through to him. One for the middle-aged fat priest and zero for the crime lord.

Pointing the gun at me he said, "I think I'll miss these conversations, Father Mike. You certainly aren't a normal priest and when I tell this story I'll make sure that everybody knows that you were one tough mother right to the end. Biggest balls I had ever seen on a man. Figuratively and literally. Say hi to St. Peter for me."

He lifted the gun and I prepared again to die. I still thought that somehow Harrow would save me. That he would save both of us, but the power of prayer didn't always give one what they wanted. It only gave what was needed and I guessed that soon enough I would understand why I needed to die here today.

Something flew past me so fast that it sent me smashing into the wall as it came by. I knew it was there, but I couldn't see who or what it was. Creatures like Harrow weren't meant to be seen by human eyes. At least, not until it too late. It was moving so fast that by the time I looked over to the King, he was screaming and staggering from side to side along the corridor. Whatever or whoever it was made the most savage, animalistic sounds I had ever heard. I wasted many hours watching nature shows and nothing that I had seen or heard was even close to this.

The King fell over and the growling stopped. It suddenly became quiet. I jumped up and made my way towards them like an idiot. I should be running away but I wasn't brave, just borderline stupid. I was a few feet away when I saw the King holding his hand to his neck, wheezing. Of course, a cockroach like him would survive. It was one of life's great ironies. The good die young and the trash like him always survive. I saw a corpse lying beside him. It wasn't Harrow as the frame looked female, but it was definitely the same type of creature. The lack of facial features and skin made the dagger-sized fangs in her mouth stand out.

A loud booming sound echoed from down the corridor, beyond my sight. I looked and tried to see what could be making such a sound, but there was nothing there. I thought I heard footsteps as the floor creaked in the darkness, but it might have just been my mind playing tricks on me. I brought my attention back to the frozen monster lying on the floor, realizing that the King was gone. I saw him turn the corner and vanish as he made his escape.

Chapter THIRTY FIVE

Harrow

The primal survival instinct is stronger than fear. It can drive a savage heart to near madness if forced to choose between doing the unthinkable to survive or doing nothing and dying. As my eyes opened I could feel Michaela's need to feed. Her desperation called to me as she hunted the living to save the dead. To save her own life. She was my maker which made a connection between us stronger than any family ties or blood bonds associated with it. We weren't exactly soulmates since historically, when the creator died it was like a child learning that their mother had passed. No matter how far away they might be, all her children felt it and cried. That's what I woke up to. Even though I was weak and starving, my mother was hungry and hurt.

I vaguely remembered her screams as the light scorched the flesh from my body. In placesit had burnt straight through to the bone and the muscle that once made me such a dangerous creature was gone. I tried to get to my feet, but all my strength had been stolen as I laid there unconscious. The smell of fresh blood surrounded me and the need to feed took over. The need to kill one living creature too ensure my survival filled my mind as I scanned the floor. That's when I realized he was there. Barely breathing, but alive. His neck was torn open and like a pump, each heartbeat he took drained him and soon there wouldn't be any life left. If I didn't feed soon I wouldn't have the strength to do it.

I dragged myself towards him inch by inch with the knowledge that he wouldn't be the only life I would be forced to take. Despite my ideals about killing those that were innocent or could change their lives to build a better future, I didn't have that luxury any longer.

When push came to shove, I would kill and survive rather than starve and die. It was the circle of life. Humans ate everything that they encountered and my kind ate humans. That's just the way it was and right now I might not like the idea of it, but I would survive. I needed to survive.

The smell of his blood floated in the air as I climbed up onto his body. My stomach quaked with anticipation of the taste and my fangs slowly dropped. I needed to feed and the time had finally come. I avoided his eyes at all costs as I slipped close, ready to drive my fangs into the other side of his neck. I hated looking into their eyes and seeing how vulnerable they were, knowing that soon I would end their life. He smelled delicious and my fangs were about to dig in when he grabbed me. He threw me back with so much force thatI bounced off the wall and landed on the floor. A booming echo ricocheted away from us, lost in the darkness.

He swayed from side to side like an old tree caught in a strong wind. He wasn't as durable as he thought and looked completely drained. He considered himself a righteous warrior of humanity, but if he was going stop me, he was sadly mistaken. He was alone and in this state I might struggle to overpower him, but he wouldn't be able to fight me off. I had no choice in this and desperate times required cruel actions. He fell back against the wall, gasping for air.

"Don't feed, there's a blood spell. I don't have the strength to break it again."

That's when it came back to me like a forgotten dream. I was frozen and my body had been as hard as stone. I wasn't dead in the normal sense as I was locked inside my mind, screaming for help. There was no one to listen, though.

Nathanial's trap for me was cruel at best. Everything went numb and stiff except my mind. He designed a prison meant only for me. An isolation inside myself that I could never break.

"You broke the spell."

Renaud sat there, still reeling from it.

"Yes, but I won't be able to do it again." Placing his hand on his chest, he muttered "She stole it."

Trying to control the ever-taunting hunger that was consuming me, I asked, "What did she take?"

He almost fell over from exhaustion as he whined, "Murlin took my soul stone. She betrayed me."

"Renaud, she cannot betray you. She's a familiar. She has served us since the days of old. Created by Merlin in King Arthur's Court to serve humanity as long as his bloodline exists."

Sadness filled his face as he stated, "Our bloodline has been corrupted. It's no longer mine to claim and her loyalty vanished along with it."

I still couldn't believe that Murlin abandoned us. That after giving her loyalty to our family generation after generation, it had ended like this. It ended with her trying to trap me and not only control Renaud, but steal the magic that was born inside him. In her hands, he could be forced to do her bidding. To be summoned and controlled.

"I don't believe that she has the power to betray you."

"Do you see her? She was here when I broke the spell and I woke up here like this. No,Murlin and my soul was gone. I don't know how, but she definitely broke her oath to serve and betrayed me in the process."

I felt her thirst. I tried to push Mihaela's need to feed from my mind, but it was an impossible task. It was like living above a bakery and never getting to eat cake, or hearing your child cry out in pain and not being able to help them.

"We have another problem. Mihaela is in worse shape than I am and she is preparing to feed."

"If she does, she will face the same horror that you did." Lifting his arms, he said, "And I don't think I can break the spell again. Not now." This was no exaggeration. He was spent and pretty much used up.

I could see in his bloodshot eyes that there wasn't any kind of spark, just sadness. He was attached to Murlin. One needed the other to exist, and now it had been taken away.

I felt empty, like suddenly everything had no taste. My hunger vanished and I was alone. A chill grew inside me as I realized that she was gone. Such despair came over me and I could feel the tears streaming down my cheeks. My creator was gone and, for the first time in my life, I couldn't feel her presence. I was alone.

"She's gone."

"Mihaela is shut into herself." It was strange to look into his eyes and see the same kind of pain and emptiness staring back at me. We were brothers by birth and shared that unbreakable bond. Destiny had twisted our family's ties until there was nothing left except hate.

Fate made us enemies on either side of an invisible line, yet at this moment in time we shared the same kind of grief. We shared a common bond in our misery.

Renaud climbed the wall as he got to his feet. Dried blood stuck to the side of his face, starting from his ears and going all the way down his neck. His legs were wobbly and his movements were slower than I had ever seen, but he was on his feet. He walked over and reached out his hand. I took it and as he pulled me up I asked, "What are we doing."

"Killing a gangster."

As I made it to my feet I added, "And saving an old flame."

I expected a smile or a laugh or at the very least a smirk, but he just rolled his eyes.

"Yes, that too." He said it like it was the last thing on earth he wanted. If I were him, I would probably feel the same way.

After all, she had cheated on him with me of all people, blamed him for it, and then married another man.

Pointing, I said, "She's this way, likely with the King." I could still smell her perfume and it seemed obvious that where his prize was he would be also. We just had to follow my nose. The smell of freshly spilled blood was so alluring that I kept having to fight the urge to run after it. I was at my weakest point and it was a struggle not to feed, even though I knew that the consequences would be immense if I did. The other question was, whose blood was it? There was a very good chance that Mihaela killed the first person she met and if that person was Jenny, she was either dead or dying.

Renaud wouldn't have the strength to save her, and even if he did I don't think he would do it voluntarily.

"Let me deal with the King."

Laughing, I asked, "Don't think I'm strong enough to kill a middle-aged gangster?" If that were the case, he was sadly mistaken. Even in my current state, I might not be able to maintain it but I was still a lot faster and stronger then Renaud was.

"No, dumbass. This whole place seems to be vampire-proof. Nathanial had Murlin guiding him and for all we know, she taught him things that we can't even image. Stay back and let me handle this." Smiling, he added,"For all we know, he had Mike walk around blessing the place."

I didn't really know what to say. Nathanial certainly left me with a collection of unwanted gifts here. Blood spells and vampire traps might not have been the worst of it, either. Another thought that came to mind was, who killed him? At first, I thought it was Wilson and the King but now I wondered if it had beenMurlin. If she could betray Renaud, her sworn master, what else was she capable of? Murder?

"I am serious, Harrow. Don't do anything stupid. Nathanial seems to have designed this place to trap you." Twice now, he had saved my life. I was vulnerable and he could have easily just let me die. It was like old times. Renaud the hero always coming to my rescue.

"Okay, I'll let you play the hero and win the girl," I said with a grin.

Rolling his eyes, he said, "I never wanted to be a hero."

A man jumped out at us, carrying a gun in one hand and one of those flashlights in the other.

"Stop or I'll shoot!" he snarled, trying not to show his fear. His trembling hands were a solid indication that he knew he was in way over his head. We all were. He kept the light on Renaud at all times, rather than flash it from person to person like an experienced man would have.

"I don't want any trouble, I just want out of here. I was told to grab the high society bitch, that was it. Nobody mentioned anything about wild-ass priests or monsters that tear out hearts." He was just a scared kid with a gun, and like all kids he was looking to get out. Mike would have said it was a turning point in his life, but I am not as optimistic as he was.

"Where did you see the priest?" Renaud asked, trying to block the light with his arm.

Waving the gun around the kid snapped, "I ask the questions here!"

Renaud was getting tense as he demanded an answer.

"Where is the priest?" He was stepping towards him, pointing. "I asked you a question." The young stranger stepped back and in the process, he accidentally shot the gun and it went off with a loud bang and a flash of light. Renaud fell to the floor and rolled, groaning in pain and holding his side. Could a man die twice, I wondered? It would be ironic if my brother died twice.

"I said freeze!" he shouted, still waving the gun around like a mad man in a bank. You know, the ones from TV that get trapped and choose suicide or a gunfight rather than prison. This was probably a good thing, since I couldn't let anyone escape this place and Renaud wasn't the kind to kill unless he had no other choice. That's why he always forgave me my sins, no matter what I did in life. I always believed it was better to ask forgiveness than permission and Renaud always forgave me. "It's your fault he got shot. I said freeze and you didn't freeze." He lowered the gun and said, "Let me go and nobody else has to get hurt. Just point me to the door and I am out of here."

I ran towards him, grabbing his head on either side. He gave me a look of confusion and regret for a second. With a quick twist, I heard his neck snap and felt his body tremble. It was better this way. No witnesses meant no complications. When this day was over I wanted no more complications then necessary. His body went limp and I dropped it to the floor. I couldn't leave survivors, even if it meant being seen as a monster in my brother's eyes. He always saw me as a monster, so if that's what it took to protect my secret so be it.

"You didn't have to kill him," Renaud said in shock as he laid there bleeding on the floor. "He was just a scared kid. A frightened child pulled into the wrong life."

That was the Renaud I remembered. Too soft when times required a hard hand. Maybe, if he wasn't such a softyI would be the crawling from the pits of Hell and he'd still be alive with a wife and a few kids.

"I had to do it."

"Why? He's only a boy."

"A boy that would talk. I survive because nobody knows I am real. I can exist here because I am no more than a legend."

A series on hollow stomps caught my attention. Blind in one eye and with the remaining one blurry, I couldn't see who was running away, only that it was a big man. Not an athletic fellow, but still a large man. Renaud climbed to his feet, rubbing the gunshot wound as he whispered, "Munda." Immediately,he clenched his teeth and winced in pain. His whole body trembled as he whispered the spell once again and slowly, little shards of lead started to poke out of the wound. Smacking the wall with his fists, he grumbled, "Munda," as he nearly fell to the floor. His hands were trembling as he slowly placed it over the wound. "Sana!" I watched the wound start to heal, but it was slower than I expected it would be. Taking a deep breath, he whispered again, "Sana!"

"Seems to me you aren't as powerful as you once were."

Still red-faced and teary-eyed, Renaud muttered, "Seems to me that I used up a lot of my strength saving you."

"Not saving me, just setting me free of my prison."

"Same thing."

We started walking and I responded, "No, I am already dead so you can free me, but not kill me. The best you can do is destroy me."

We continued the childish banter about who would kick whose ass and such just like we had so many times before. I had spent so much time letting the guilt of his death haunt me that I forgot just how much I missed him. Maybe the family bonds weren't broken. Time had just twisted them until I couldn't see we were still attached.

A figure was kneeling over something twenty feet in the distance. I couldn't make out who was there, only that there seemed to be a dead female lying motionless on the floor. The image of the man I killed previously must have still been in Renaud's mind, because he grabbed my shoulder firmly and whispered, "That's Mike. He isn't a witness, he's an old friend."

"I know who Mike is."

"Just don't kill him.

"Why would I kill Mike?"

"Opposite team's kind of thing. You know our side and their side."

That's when I saw Mihaela lying there motionless, trapped in her own prison. I ran to her and touched her face, feeling the rough twisted skin that replaced the soft timeless flesh that had existed for so long. My sweet Mihaela was lost to me. Knowing she was gone and seeing the result were never the same thing. All the remorse came back like a flood pouring down a valley. I wanted to beg Renaud to free her. To smash down the walls that trapped her, but I knew well enough that it was impossible. He didn't have the strength to save her and even if he did, I don't think he would do it.

I turned back to Renaud and Mike and saw them kneeling over a young woman's body. Mike was gently stroking her hair,saying "She's just a child. A goddamn child."

"I am sure that she will be alright." Picking her off the floor he said, "Take her out of here now, Mike. She needs to go to the hospital, but don't tell anyone where you found her. You can't tell anyone about any of this, Mike."

"So the King gets away with murder?"

"She's not dead, Mike."

Pointing to the body on the floor he said, "What about Holland there? He shot him right in the head because he disappointed him. He killed a man because he got his ass kicked by me."

It was the first time that I had ever seen Mike's eyes filled with hate and loathing. More shocking, was the fact that Mike had kicked his ass. Mike was still flying high on the vampire blood I gave him obviously, but it should have worn off by now, plus this Holland looked rather large.

"If you can beat the hell out of him I understand the disappointment part." Mike was silent as Renaud passed her into his arms.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about this place, but what about Jenny? I'm pretty sure he has her locked away in the little safe room that he has set up."

Renaud crossed his arms, "He will pay for this, just not in a prison. There's a special place in Hell for guys like him and I'm going to make sure that he gets there."

I couldn't help but laugh. Mike was thinking figuratively, yet Renaud was talking literally. He had seen it and felt it, and would send him there to pay his penance. I wanted to shout out that my little brother was an authority on going to Hell, but Mike wouldn't understand the humor. It was probably best that he still thought of Hell as a metaphor rather than a location. He was still dealing with the idea that vampires existed. Why add more nightmares to his life?

At the end of the hallway three men stepped out into the dim light. They weren't the usual suit and tie gangster types that I had seen previously. No, these guys were wearing torn jeans and sleeveless T-shirts. They didn't gloat or taunt us like the wise guys. They just aimed and fired. Renaud grabbed Mike, using his body as a shield. Renaud groaned and shrieked in a pain as the bullets hit him.

Turning, he seemed saddened as he looked at the criminals firing at us and then to Mike,who was lying on the floor trying to cover the young blonde whore he seemed attached to.

"This has to end," Renaud said as he stepped further into the corridor. The splatter of bullets kept coming and they never seemed to miss. Holding his hands out he screamed, "vivus ardebit," and a flame travelled down the corridor and attacked the men. They were engulfed in the flames and one by one, they screamed and hollered until they collapsed onto the floor. I watched the flames flicker and fall until they slowly faded away. That was the great thing about magic. Fast, hot flames that exploded with such intensity that they burned anything in their path.

I have seen many men die since my change occurred. The guilty and the innocent alike. I never really felt comfortable with it, but it was usually forgotten rather quickly. Seeing Renaud fall to the floor though would not be easily forgotten. He wasn't dead, but he was lying there bleeding on the floor. I wasn't even sure bullets could kill him, but they sure did knock him on his ass. I would need to keep that in mind in case our recent peace was short-lived.

Looking down at Renaud, I decided it was time to end this.

"Sorry brother, but I'll be breaking my promise to you. It's time I dethrone a King."

Chapter THIRTY sIX

Renaud

Chapter 36 – Renaud

The silence was troubling, to say the least. It was the feeling of being alone in the world. I looked around the hallway, but nobody was there except for the little blonde, Maria. She was a sweet kid with a darkness inside her. She still had a childlike, dreamy aura about her. She tried to hide it, but I could still sense it. Her time with the King and now us would probably drown it out. Evil always killed the light, despite what the gospels might tell you. Where the hell did Mike and Harrow go? I could understand Harrow running off. I expected it, since he wasn't the most trustworthy ally. If his maker hadn't been left lying on the floor I would have thought he'd be halfway home, but if she was still here he had to be close by. Mike was a different story. I didn't expect him to leave. He wasn't a hero or a coward, but he left Maria behind. Did his love for Jenny mean more than his responsibilities to the world around him?

I sat up and looked around, trying to decide what I was going to do. The world gets complicated when you need think of those around you. My life was getting really complicated. I came here with one purpose. To clean up all the things that I had left unfinished, and now the distractions had overpowered that. The choice wasn't as simple as I thought it was going to be. To do what I was expected to do or what seemed like the right thing. I had always done the right thing. The good friend, faithful lover and good brother. For all the good it did me. Jenny left me, my brother set me up to die, and my best friend was secretly in love with the love of my life.

Maria was starting to stir. She wasn't much older than I was when I had died. Looking at an injured, helpless figure like that made me wonder what would happen if I could wipe away all the horrors and sadness she carried with her. It made me wonder what would my life be like if somebody stole away the sadness and betrayal I carried with me back then. Would I still have traded my future and life trying to save Harrow so easily? If I didn't remember the dreams I built with Jenny, would I still have lost myself. There's always a lot of ifs in life. What if I did this instead of that? Would my life be different if somebody took away all the bad and wiped it away? I had the power to give this little girl a clean second chance at life. All I had to do was take her burdens away. To add her burdens with mine and carry them.

I touched her forehead and muttered the words, "Da mihi saevum et cor rumpit. Et lacrimis , verecundia , culpam , et confractus corde . Vita vivet , et tristitiam oblitus tui . Invenies felici successu in vita amoris . Da mihi omnia onera vestra." Like water through a funnel, all the horrors of her life started flowing from her mind. She'd forget the King and anything that he might have done. The father that abandoned her and the mother that died and left her defenseless. I even took the bad dreams away to try and give her peace. It was a bittersweet moment. Mixed amongst all those horrors were sweet moments, such as the first kiss from some boy named Damian, or the day the one she called Handsome Johnny defended her against his brother. Even after the beating that followed, he told her that her smile was worth it. It was the first time that she ever believed that she was beautiful. Next, it was time to remove the scars from her body. Taking away the memories wouldn't help if she could still see the scars. I whispered, "Sana,Removeomnia cicatrices et imperfectionibus," watching the scars vanish one by one.

"Live your life child forget this place and life."

She responded, "Yes, I will. I will see my aunt in Toronto." She was up on her feet, slowly walking away.

I reached into my pocket, pulling out what little money I had and placed it in her hand, "Take this. It's all the money I have, but it will let you take the train and give you enough to eat."

"Thank you," was all she said as she took it and walked away. I gave her the only gift I could. A fresh start in life free of all burdens, even if deep down I was fighting the sensation that I wanted to cry. All those sad moments had been added to my own and my heart was breaking.

I walked towards the dim light at the end of the corridor. It felt like I was walking deeper into a tunnel and that had to ending. There were echoing booms and clangs followed by loud curses. Harrow had obviously found a metal door that he couldn't force open, and being a less than patient creature he would see that as a reason to pound harder. I turned the corner and found two bodies sprawled on the floor. They looked mutilated and deformed, which I should have expected. The pools of blood were so large that I couldn't step around them, so I just stomped through them.

"Let me in, little piggy," Harrow said as he pounded on the door. "I can wait you out, Your Majesty." He continued to slam his fists against the metal.

Mike was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

"The door is two inches thick, Harrow. I don't think you can just smash through it. It's a safe room, after all." Most people might think that Mike was calm and collected, but his right eye twitched and his knees were shaking.

"I need to get in there," Harrow said, frustrated as he started slamming his fists against the door once again. His hands were bloody and yet he refused to stop. It just wasn't in him to stop once he put his mind to something. He was like a bloodhound chasing a scent. Absolutely relentless. Each measured punch sent sparks sizzling along the door. It was built to stop his attack.

"You can't smash your way through it, Harrow," I said as I walked closer. I ran my fingers along the center of the door, noting that it felt warm to the touch, "This giant cross is just like a spine. It adds strength and power." Pointing to the corners I added, "Each corner is fortified with a smaller cross." My hand was burning now so I pulled it away as I said, "It was designed to stop both of us. It seems like in the midst of everything, Nathanial took the time to make this consecrated ground."

Mike raised an eyebrow, "Don't look at me, I had nothing to do with it." Pointing to the door, he seemed confused as he stepped closer to the cross and ran his fingers along it. "This looks like the cross from the graveyard at St. Michael's Church. It was stolen about five years ago."

Harrow commented, "That little bastard Nathanial really hated me, didn't he?"

It was just like Harrow to take everything personally.

"He wasn't just keeping you out, Harrow. He designed the sanctuary to stop both of us. To keep the darkness out of his life." Harrow still seemed to be sulking. "He cast a powerful blood spell to trap us here. Me and Mihaela. He made a prison just for us. Did you see her back there? Frozen and trapped inside her own mind. Her mind works, yet her body betrays her."

"If Nathanial truly wanted to kill you he would have hunted you down with Murlin's help. No, I think he wanted to create a sanctuary to protect himself from us. The monsters in his bloodline."

"Ok so Harrow is a vampire, I know that, but what the hell are you? Some kind of wizard?" There was more than confusion in Mike's face. His eyes were hazed over with fear and a little disgust.

"I'm just plain old Renaud, nothing more." Mike wouldn't understand theintricacies that pushed my family through life. I am not even sure I did.

"Come on, Renaud. Tell me the truth. I have already witnessed you heal, kill, and create fire. I might not be a genius, but I'm not a complete idiot." Pointing at Harrow he said, "Compared to finding out that he sucks the blood from old whores to survive and thinks it's noble, there's not very much left that can really shock me."

He really thought that the scariest thing in the world was a pair of vampires feeding on the undesirables. That there wasn't anything scarier than them lurking in the shadows.

"I am just a man who has unfinished business here to settle up."

A smirk filled his face, "Somehow I always knew that you and Jenny were done when you left. I always thought that one day you would show up and try and win her love again. It just never occurred to me that you'd return from the grave to do it."

It seems strange that he was so casual about it. I would have thought he'd have been halfway across town kneeling in front of a bible praying his ass off. I grew up in this world and there were times that I wanted to do that.

"Doesn't any of this bother you?"

"Damn straight it does. I just figure it's better to stand next to a monster I know then worry about the ones I don't, plus Nathanial kind of prepared me for the unknown."

Harrow was still examining the door as he said, "So how do we open a door that was designed to keep us locked out? One that seems blessed? One that seems beyond us?"

"I can do it," I said, realizing that this wasn't going to be a happy memory for me.

"Maybe while you carried the soul stone yes, but I think you're screwed if you try now," Harrow said.

"I can do it. I need to finish this now while I have time. I think that saving Jenny and killing the King is why I am here. To avenge Nathanial's murder and let Jenny know that I forgive her so she can get on with her life." It made sense to me. I was yanked from Hell's grip on the day my baby brother was mutilated. Tie up all the loose ends from my former life in one clean swoop.

Laughing, Harrow muttered, "And here I thought that you came back from the grave because you missed me."

I opened my hands flat, preparing to touch the surface of the door. They were trembling as I tried to build up enough courage to actually do it. It was like yanking off a bandage as a child. You know that it must be done, but the idea of how it's going to hurt if the scab gets ripped off with it is still there. That was exactly how I felt. Like a frightened eight-year-old wishing that my mommy was close by. Talking a deep breath, I pushed my body forward and heard the whooshing sound as blue flame burst up from my hands. My eyes squinted and watered as the pain ran down my fingers, making them feel stiff and unmovable. Through the pain I said, "Hodie in sanguinem, et aperire signacula eius." Nothing happened. Gasping for air, I tried to fight the tendency to pull away and cried out, "Patefacio." The seal broke, but the door didn't open any more than an inch. The flames were traveling up my arm and the flash of burnt flesh was overwhelming.

Mike grabbed my shoulder, "There has to be another way." He was trying to pull me back, but I fought against it. "You can't keep this up, it will burn you to a crisp. Look at your arms."

"I must do this. I can handle the pain." I shouted, "Ego præcipio tibi, ut aperies," and the door popped open a little more. My head was starting to feel hazy. The crack around the door was open just a mere four inches and I wasn't sure how much longer I could endure the pain. The joints in my arms were popping as the heat burned through the bone, but I was determined that I wouldn't quit.

Harrow stepped closer and looked at me with a smile on his face.

"I guess the children of moon will either win the war together or go up in flames." I don't know why he was trying to find amusement in this. The agony of our task wasn't funny and if we failed, Jenny's new life certainly wouldn't be a joke. He grabbed hold of the door and placed his foot against it.

"Open you holy bitch," he swore as he pushed with all his might. Flames exploded from his hands, going straight to the bone given the mangled shape they were in from his previous battle.

Harrow's hands were trembling and quaking madly as he tried to use his supernatural strength to force the door open. His screams were animalistic at best, but slowly the door gave way and opened. Closing my eyes, I placed a vision of the door opening into my mind and said, "Hodie hoc ostium sanguinem servorum, qui sub signaculo. Ego praecipio tibi!"

The hinges screamed as the metal door finally opened, breaking the magic that made the seal. Harrow went flying backwards, striking the wall with enough force to send his body through the wood. Falling backwards, I saw Jenny's body lying on the floor in a pool of blood. The King's giant frame lay beside her. He was gasping for each breath as his body tried to fight the change that was attacking him and his soul. Time wasn't on our side and I was too weak to save her. His chest stopped moving as his heart finally stopped. The true question now wasn't if he was dead, but if he was going to come back to life once again.

Chapter THIRTY SEVEN

Mike

Through the door, I saw Jenny lying on the floor unconscious. Even surrounded in a pool of blood with her hair messed up and scrapes all over her face, she was still the most beautiful creature that I had ever met. I had seen her through her best and worst times and yet I couldn't remember any time that she wasn't absolutely gorgeous.

Renaud was slowly trying to crawl into the room. The skin and flesh on his arms had been burned away, leaving only the black bones of his hands. Each time he tried to pull himself forward, they made a clicking sound as they hit the floor. I wasn't even sure that he was aware that his arms were burned to a crisp from the flames that attacked him as he and Harrow had fought to open the door. Looking back at the wall Harrow had crashed through, all I could see was his legs dangling through the opening in the wall.

Flames burst across opening in the doorway as Renaud's bone hands reached in. He screamed a loud savage cry as the flames touched his body. He was relentless in his struggle to enter the room. It was the only real constant about him. Self-sacrifice for those he loved and even if he wouldn't admit it, he still loved Jenny. She had destroyed him and he still came to her rescue every time she needed a hero. That wasn't merely duty. It was the emotional attachment that he still held in his heart for her being stronger than common sense. His face smashed into the floor and a sizzling sound started that reminded me of bacon in a frying pan. His head caught fire and a bright blue flame engulfed his head until I could barely recognize who he was. I dragged him out of the doorway and threw my jacket over his face, trying to smother the fire. I just hoped that he couldrebuild his body like his brother, but I wasn't exactly sure what he was. Demon, wizard, or maybe even some kind of ghost. Either way, he was going to be an ugly son of a bitch if he couldn't.

I stepped through the doorway with a prayer in my heart, expecting the worst to happen. I was relieved when I didn't burst into flames like Renaud and Harrow did. Of course, I was merely a man with all the flaws and vulnerabilities that came along with it. Luckily, the King seemed to be dead. I never thought that I would say a human being dying was a good thing, but I felt no pity for him. Whatever awaited him in the next life, he had earned it. Any horrors and nightmares that he would face I was sure he earned in spades.

I walked over to Jenny, who was laying there motionless. If it wasn't for the fact that her chest slightly rose and fell I would have thought that she was dead. I don't know why I inspected her neck for bite marks, but I did. Luckily there wasn't anything more than a bruise. Her skin felt softer than I thought it would. It was strange how you could know someone intimately like family and yet never touch them in such a way. She was an absolutely gorgeous figure and seeing her in such a vulnerable way made her seem even more beautiful, like a sleeping fairytale princess instead of a mortal woman.

Carefully,I slid my arms under her body and picked her up. I always thought that in a case like this I would sweep her up like she was paper-light, but I was wrong. I couldn't imagine such a small girl weighing so much, or maybe it was just me feeling old. It had become apparent to me that I was too old to live such an adventurous life. I struggled to get to my feet, watching her head and arms dangling as I staggered around. Looking to the opening, I thought that freedom and safety were only eight feet away. Those lousy eight feet seemed like such a vast distance.

Something smelled bad. It was like burning pork. An odor that reeks and sticks to you like sweat on a hot day. I hated the smell of burning flesh. Today it seemed like all I did was run from the smell of burning flesh. Well, that and the smell of fresh blood. It seems like all night I was haunted by those two smells. Burning skin and fat and spilled blood. Renaud and Harrow didn't seem to mind or notice it, but I certainly did. I wasn't meant for this. I just needed to get out of here and leave this kind of life behind. To go back to being boring Father Mike with his boring uneventful life.

"Mike, run!" A voice hollered from outside the doorway. "He's behind you!"

I turned and saw him standing there, breathing heavy as his whole body shook. He looked like a giant three-year-old in the middle of a temper tantrum. Flames were dancing along his shoulders and engulfed his whole head.

Pointing at me he snarled, "You disappoint me, Father Mike. I am very disappointed in you and you know what I do to those that disappoint me. You saw what I did to Holland and you will feel a lot worse before I'm through with you." Slowly, he moved towards me. Each step seemed to be an event in itself. "I would have given her to you as a gift, Father Mike. A sign of friendship. Then you slapped me right in the face."

"I didn't mean to insult you. I just couldn't go through with it. The way you let your men treat her like she was a slave owned and paid for... she isn't just a pet that can be traded like some kind of object or possession." I said as I realized that in his eyes Jenny was a gift. That the day I asked for her as the price for my assistance and the betrayal of my friends I had indeed sold my loyalty and friendship in his eyes.

"I bought her from Wilson as surely as she sold that sweet ass to him in the first place. Only I paid more for it. First, it was cold hard cash and now it's my soul." The flames were growing larger and the room felt hotter. He smiled and I saw long piercing fangs descend. Opening his arms, he cried out, "You and that bitch cost me my soul! My soul, Father Mike!"

He wasn't to blame for his actions given the state he was in. It was easier to act like the victim then the monster. It seemed to me that every monster I had ever met or heard of, from street thugs to a serial killer always found a way to make themselves look like a victim scarred by humanity. Most even found a way to justify what they had done. No matter what the monster had done against the world around them, they always found a way justify it or blame someone else.

"So it's my fault that you are here in this position right now?"

"Don't confuse the situation, Father Mike. You are a total disappointment. Just because you get the girl without fulfilling your side of the bargain doesn't make it right. No, it's not right at all!" He stopped and pointed, "Nothing inlife ever comes free. I didn't get a single thing given to me. I had to fight tooth and nail to make my way to the top and now it's gone."

I'd slowly been making my way to the door, letting him get out every bit of frustration that he had in him. Those flames were growing larger and larger, but for some reason he didn't seem to feel it like Renaud did. I can only assume that the reason he hadn't burned away was because the transformation wasn't complete yet. As the seconds passed I could see it taking hold of him. Like a disease, it was slowly invading what little goodness was left inside him and if I didn't make my escape now I didn't think that I ever would.

Renaud was still pleading for me to run away. He looked weak, but the muscle on his arms had started to grow back. It wasn't pretty, but I was happy to see it happen. It didn't look like he'd be able to do much to help us or at least not in time, but it made me feel safer.

He looked up and screamed, "He's turning Mike! Run."

I burst out of the doorway with Jenny still in my arms. I was trying to move away as fast as I could, but I wasn't eighteen anymore. Hell, even when I was eighteen I wouldn't have been able to out run a mad vampire without Jenny's added weight, let alone now with her in my arms. I was just about out the door when I felt something hit me like a battering ram. I went flying into the wall, knocking Jenny into the wall also with a hollow thud. I fell headfirst into the floor, feeling the bite of a sharp piece of wood being driven through my arm. I cried out as the pain spread like a spider web. I closed my eyes, trying to think of happier thoughts from a calmer time, but it didn't help. Whoever planted the idea in my mind was full of shit. Calmer thoughts didn't help control anything. All it did was waste valuable time.

I looked over and saw Jenny laying there beside me still unconscious, blood flowing from the cut in the side of her head. If she survived today that cut across her beautiful face would drive her crazy. She valued her beauty more than money and she put money above everything else, including love and happiness.

A hand clamped onto my shoulder magnifying the pain inside me tenfold. I was screaming out when the King licked his lips and snarled.

"Oh the sweet smell of pure blood. Your soul isn't polluted like your dear Mrs. Bailey. There is a stench about her blood. It's been polluted with time."

This wasn't going to end well for me, that was clear. It seemed to me that my blood smelled like a fine wine and Jenny's was like a cheap wine cooler. If Harrow was any indication, he wouldn't just kill me, but Jenny next and so many others. He added more pressure and the pain exploded. I thought that I heard the bones begin to shatter.

Crying, I whined, "What do you want? Do you want me to beg for my life?"

I know we all say that in such situations men aren't supposed to beg for their lives, but as the pain increased I would have begged for anything. It's not so easy to be strong when a vice-like grip is shattering every bone in your shoulder.

"Do you want me to plead for my life or beg you to kill me?"

"No, I don't want you to beg, Father Mike. If I kill you, it means you aren't being punished for disappointing me. You and your belief system would turn your death into a journey to heaven. If I turn you into a monster like me I would be making an enemy I don't want. Who knows, you might end up being more dangerous than I am, like your friends." He dropped me onto the floor sending a whole new variety of pain though my body. I just laid there trying to catch my breath as my whole body trembled. He reached down and snatched up Jenny like a rag doll. "No Father Mike, I am going to take the love of your life away from you. It will be so heartbreaking."

"What is going to be so heartbreaking for me?" The idea of Jenny being murdered to punish me was terrifying. It seemed like such a cruel thing to be forced to witness, even though I was sure he had done much worse to better men.

"No, I am not going to kill her. You are." He reached out and ripped the wood from my arm, laughing as I screamed in agony. Tossing it into the safe room he said, "You will have a choice, of course. Life is full of choices. Kill or be killed,"

"Don't do it," I begged as he slowly moved her hair from her neck.

"Doesn't she smell so sexy? With pampered skin that hasn't been soiled by disease?" Lifting her hands and examining them he added, "I bet Mrs. Bailey here hasn't ever done a real day's work." Letting her hand drop, he turned and said, "I bet these hands don't even have calluses on them. It seems fitting that a woman who has lived such a pampered life should have an eternity to serve me." Pointing towards the empty room he continued, "I will change her and your choice will be to either kill her and set her free, or let her kill you and serve me. Isn't that a disappointment, Father Mike?"

The King had a cruelty about him that dwarfed even Harrow's, and now Jenny was going to pay a steep price for our failure.

"I won't kill her," I said.

"Then she will kill you and I will come back and grab her in a few days. Imagine how much fun I can have with her over the next two or three centuries. I will have to invent a whole series of games to play with her." Smiling, he taunted, "I will have to bring in consultants to help me create new ways to hurt your darling Jenny."

He turned towards Jenny again and seemed to have forgotten about me completely. With my one good arm, now trembling so bad I didn't think I had any strength in it, I slowly reached out and searched for something to attack him with. He was preparing to dig those fangs into her neck when I found it. One of the UV flash lights that I had brought with me. I hit the switch and nothing happened. Looking at the end I soon realized that when he threw me against the wall he must have broken it. I kept searching the floor,looking for something to use as a weapon. Lots of small kindling-sized pieces of wood, but they weren't good enough to use to kill him. The movies and books always showed a stake through the heart, but I didn't think on my best day that it would have been possible. I didn't think I had nearly enough strength for that.

I finally found a foot-long piece of wood that had broken away when Harrow burst through the wall. I wasn't even sure that it was thick enough to make it through, but I had to try. I was still breathing heavily and felt like I was going to throw up, but I had to try. I slowly pushed my way up the wall. The King knew he had the upper hand and wanted to make sure I knew it too. Instead of just biting into her, he slowly kissed her neck like he was her lover. He pulled back his head and I saw his fangs pop out again as he prepared to bite down. It reminded me of one of those TV shows where they show you how to remove venom from a rattle snake. That's the way this damned fangs looked to me.

I decided it was now or never. I jumped up, forcing my arm to rise in the air as high as I could then with every ounce of weight I could muster I drove it into his back. The stick snapped in half as it was forced in. His back arched and he screeched like a beast as it entered his flesh. He faltered for a moment and I thought I killed him right then and there.

He turned and laughed. "That's not where the heart is, Father Mike." Pointing to his chest, he said, "It's right here. Like I said before, you have got to have the biggest balls I have ever seen." Lifting his knee, he kicked me, sending me flying down the hall. The force of it smashed my head like a basketball, bouncing down the corridor.

"Truly disappointing," was all that he before he clamped down on Jenny's neck. She moaned as he fed on her. Not a painful moan, but a mixture of shock and ecstasy. If it weren't for the fact that her hands clamped shut I would have thought that she was enjoying the whole experience. I couldn't let the King loose on the world. I called out to Harrow to help us, but he hadn't moved since he smashed through the wall and Renaud was still lying face down on the floor. This battle was hard fought and I was beginning to think that we had just lost the whole war.

I forced myself up onto my feet, grabbing the only thing that I could find which was a small metal rod. I didn't think that rusty steel could kill a vampire, but I couldn't find anything else and didn't see any better options. It was better to die like a man fighting evil than just rolling over and becoming a victim of it. It seemed like all I had done lately was either watch the after effects of evil or become a victim of it. A sadness filled my heart as I saw Jenny in his grasp. It was such an overwhelming emptiness. If I would have just stayed in the safe room, Jenny would be alive now. Maybe beaten and bruised, but still alive and given to me.

I ran over to him, expecting this result to be no better than my previous attempt. He was so concentrated on feeding that he had forgotten about me. That little warrior voice inside bellowed out a war cry that this was his last mistake, but my sarcastic voice of reason just laughed. As I ran over, I lifted the small iron bar as high as I could and slammed it down, smashing it into his head. A thudding sound came, followed by a dark stream of blood. He didn't grunt, groan, or even move a muscle. He just stood there frozen in place, letting Jenny's lifeless body drop to the floor. My heart raced as I saw her fall. She looked dead and dead took on a whole new meaning here. Dead wasn't the way to heaven, but where the darkest parts inside you came to life.

On the floor beside him was his smart phone, with a blinking message from an unknown contact. I picked it up and pressed against the screen with my thumb. The message was short and to the point. "Wilson Bailey is dead," with a happy face and a dollar sign at the end. Another sin I would be forced to face this day. I didn't just arrange his death, but Jenny's as well. I killed a family. Not a traditional one or even a happy one, but I had still killed a family. I dropped the phone and wiped my eyes, for the first time realizing that the King wasn't the only one Hell-bound after this day. We all were, in our own time and in our own ways.

I saw down beside Jenny's body. Her eyes were open, staring up at me with empty, glassed-over eyes. It was like all the life and sparkle had been drained out of her being. Two small holes in her neck made it clear that that the King had indeed stole the life from her soul and soon she would rise again, feeding on and destroying anyone she met. I had been given the punishment that I was promised. The real question was if I had the courage to join her in death, or was I a coward who would kill her now before my memory of her was changed forever. I didn't want to lose those memories. Looking at Renaud, I realized I was minutes from being just like him. Less than a shadow of the man I was. I didn't want to be like him. It was better to end this now then to allow life to break me in so many pieces that I would never feel complete again.

I hoped that an iron stake through the heart would be enough to stop Jenny's transformation. I could give her peace, even if it meant that I would never find it again. I held the cold steel bar in my hand, moving it through the air knowing what I needed to do, but uncertain if I had it in me. I wasn't even able to kill the annoying mouse that haunted my pantry, yet now I needed to kill the one I loved. I watched her lifeless face with such sorrow, spinning the bar between my fingers and almost weeping at the mere thought of what I was about to do. The verse James 1:2-4 came to mind. "Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing." I kept telling myself to be strong and to give Jenny the peace in death that she refused to allow herself in life.

I kissed her cheek and whispered, "Please, forgive me my sins." I lifted the bar in the air and placed my good shoulder over it. If I was going to end all her suffering I had to be strong. Stronger than I ever thought I was or ever wanted to be. For Jenny's mortal soul, I had to be. I threw all my weight onto it and it went sliding through the air like a missile, with Jenny's heart as its target.

A female's hand clamped onto the bar and held it in midair. My shoulder felt its full force on the bar as it connected. I cried out in pain as my whole body twisted from the sudden stop. I fell back, more in shock then in terror as I heard, "This isn't the way it's supposed to end, priest. Not even close."

EPILOGUE

Renaud

I thought making peace with those who had wronged me when I was alive would free me from this world and all the complications that came with it. I waited for my master's cruel touch to come and claim me, but that day never came. My redemption wasn't complete. Just like how the stairway to Heaven was built on the steps of the pure of heart, the highway to Hell was just sin stacked upon sin. That was my journey.

The day after our battle I woke up alone and found the factory completely deserted. Mike swore that the King died that day, yet I had never found a body nor had I found any sign that he escaped. The news reports called it one of Canada's worst criminal massacres and rumor had it that a local bike gang was responsible for the twelve murders, but I knew the truth. The safe room was sealed shut with a new blood spell and, despite my best efforts, I cannot break the seal again.

Harrow was long gone, taking Mihaela with him. It wouldn't be the last time I saw him, but he was changed that day. He found a new meaning in his life. To rescue his maker from the prison that our brother had designed for him. I guess he felt responsible that his maker was trapped and he still walked the earth.

Mike now sees himself as Jenny's guardian. It seems to be his new obsession in life. I can't quite figure out what changed him, just that he seems to have found a new meaning in his life and it revolved around her. Jenny herself seems like a new person. A troubled soul that can't find peace in the world. At Wilson's funeral, I told her that I forgave her, yet she seemed colder then I remembered her being. Whether it was her way of mourning or something else, I don't know but she had changed.

I, on the other hand, am trapped in the world of the living. I feel like a cheap suit. I don't belong and don't fit quite right. I am searching for Murlin and my soul stone, yet she keeps slipping through my fingers like sand. I will not stop until I find her. There are questions I need answered and I know that she is the only one that has the answers. I won't quit until I have the answers.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

When J.D. Simser is not too busy 'saving the world' or 'being awesome' he enjoys chasing sunsets and waterfalls. OK maybe he... does not save the world, but he is always dreaming big and chasing those dreams wherever they might lead him.

Monday through Friday, he's an IT ninja, defending "the people and their computers" against nasty viruses and hackers. Wielding his mouse like a set of flaming nun chucks, causing most unwanted applications to shrivel back in shame. By night and weekends he is the king of scary monsters and romance sitting at his computer writing about endless love and those that grab hold of it and never let go, no matter.

Like most writers his goal is to put the pictures that are in his mind on paper and invite his readers on a heartfelt yet terrifying journey between heaven and earth and watch the war between Demons, Angels and a multitude of other creatures. As much as his readers tell him that his characters shock them so do his readers shock him too. The most evil characters are the ones he hears are the most interesting and some of the ones he thinks will be the most beloved characters are the most hated
