Chapter Two – Sofie
“How long before the snow turns crimson?” Mage mused, overlooking the crime scene. Investigators and police sifted through a city block’s worth of still-smoldering rubble under countless temporary spotlights. They’d easily be here through the night and into tomorrow.
The others in our little task force lined the edge of the rooftop at the other corner, a row of solemn soldiers, watching. The grim view held even Bishop’s tongue. Not that long ago, we’d been confined to the walls that once stood there.
It was only yesterday that I’d used up every last ounce of my magic to incinerate Viggo and Mortimer’s building, intent on burning all evidence that would give witnesses watching in horror from the gates credence to their stories. They would probably still find remains, though. Human and witch. Perhaps some of the Ratheus vampires. The place was too big to engulf completely and I doubted that the underground levels had been fully destroyed. That’s where they’d find the blood vault and, if that hadn’t been destroyed, many more questions would be raised.
“I don’t know if this is the right plan, Mage,” I admitted, softly enough that the words would not carry over to the others.
“You already know what my thoughts are, Sofie. But you made your call and there can be no waffling, especially in front of others. You asked them to believe in you, to give you their loyalty. They need to see you as a leader or this will never work.”
“Why can’t we make the decision together? Why must there be one leader?” I muttered, more to myself.
Of course, Mage provided an answer. She always had an answer. “Because you can’t. It never works.” I’ve learned not to question Mage. The vampiress had lived for five thousand years—the original vampire in her world. She’d already survived one human apocalypse in her own world of Ratheus. And she’d been right about everything so far.
If the call needed to be made, it would need to be made by me. I could not dither, I could not doubt.
New York City would need to burn.
It seemed so … drastic.
“We could still turn around. We could head back to the mines. You could make the call. This entire mess would be gone within two hours, if all proceeds as planned with Isaac.”
My head shook as I watched the hundreds of innocent people below, doing their jobs, trying to make sense of what had happened at this Fifth Avenue address. I could not so simply extinguish their lives, along with eight million other innocents. All because of what … a few hundred fledglings, maybe?
If we could find them, my witch fire could consume them quickly, as long as they were contained. After that, we’d have the media footage to deal with, but we’d somehow figure that out. We always have. “No, let’s fix this now.”
“And Viggo?” Mage’s black eyes flashed with fire. “You know he’s out there, somewhere, waiting for us.”
My eyes skittered over to the others, looking for signs that the name was caught on one of their ears. When satisfied that it had not, I murmured, “Yes. I’m sure he is.” Perhaps it was my own paranoia but I could feel his presence even now. I’d always been able to, like a strange sixth sense, the hairs on the back of my neck spiking whenever the psychopath was near.
I knew that the chaos Viggo was creating was not just his retaliation against Veronique’s choice. It was a marker, letting me know where he was. That I shouldn’t forget about him. He assumed that Evangeline was dead and I was crushed. He assumed I would come looking for him, ready to incinerate him. In fact, if we were to go visit the scene of the city mayor’s death, he would probably be there, waiting. Expecting me.
It was best to stay away from Viggo, though, and keep Caden out of sight as well. As long as Viggo believed Evangeline to be dead, then he’d keep us alive to suffer. I would bet my existence on that.
“If anyone were to catch wind of Viggo, they’d be running back to the mines faster than the fledglings will flee upon attack,” Mage pressed. “I wish you would’ve let me kill him back in France.”
I snorted. “So do I.” I would have had to lie to Veronique, tell her that the witches had killed him. Looking at the situation now, I would have swallowed the guilt of that lie happily. Six of us standing on this roof had someone back in that mine—protected by wolves and werebeasts, none of them a match for a vengeful Viggo—who he would gladly take from us. Part of me was desperate to run. Grab Evangeline and run to the most remote rainforest in the world, where we would be sheltered from him.
But that wasn’t an option, and I could read between the lines with Mage’s warning—keep everyone in the dark about Viggo, at all costs.
Her brow pinched together for a second before smoothing to that placid mask of indifference. “What do you make of Evangeline’s transformation? Something is not quite … right, wouldn’t you agree?”
I exhaled heavily. “I don’t know what to think of that. I couldn’t find a thing within her that was off. She felt exactly like any of us do.” That I hadn’t left her hovering over a bag of human blood like a mongrel was more than surprising. A relief, to be honest. To not be consumed so completely, to not lose all humanity … that would be a gift from the Fates. But I had never known the Fates to be generous with their grants and so I could not focus on anything but my concern. “We’ll have to figure it out after we’ve done what we came here to do.”
Mage’s head bobbed. “Good. That’s best, not to be distracted right now.”
“I appreciate your counsel, Mage. As always,” I said truthfully, “but we’d better get going.” We made our way back to the others, who were deep in conversation.
“Bloody media, all over the place.” Kait sneered at the CNN crew below.
“It doesn’t help that the ground outside was littered with evidence,” Mortimer answered. Countless markers sat on the snow-covered ground, indicating where the dozens of bodies with snapped necks had been discovered after the blast.
“We didn’t have time to compel witnesses,” she threw back.
“Did you even try?” From what I’d heard of Kait and what I had myself witnessed, she wouldn’t be the type to even try. Unlike me, human life meant nothing but a meal and lifestyle security to her.
“It doesn’t matter. It had already gone viral,” Lilly said, ending the back-and-forth in her childlike voice. She shook her head. “The humans are stupid. They see a massacre and instead of running for their lives, they pull their cameras out and begin recording. Look at them.” She gestured toward the crowd outside the police tape. “Even now, they’re eager to catch a glimpse.”
Early reports were fast to label it a terrorist bombing, but the eyewitness accounts of those who escaped, coupled with images and videos circulating the Internet, quickly connected the dots into a terrifying picture that no reputable journalist would give credibility to without first investigating.
“They’ll be finished with analyzing the images soon,” Mage said softly. “And then the president will make a speech, declaring that everyone must remain in their homes for safety. No one will label us for what we are yet. Look, there.” Her long, slender finger aimed to a single military vehicle rolling down the street, past the police barricades. “By this time tomorrow, those trucks will be all over the streets.”
“What’s the body count at now?” I asked.
“NYPD reports say two hundred and six, but my inside source revealed it’s double that,” Lilly replied, earning my groan. “The last reports of an attack were at a college campus residence not far from here.” So they were staying relatively close. That was good. “Thirty bodies, found an hour ago. The attack style sounds like fledglings.” Lilly’s voice hinted at nothing. Was anyone else afraid? No one seemed to be. Not sufficiently, anyway. Well, except for Mage.
“Why don’t you make yourself useful and hit this place with another blast of your magic, Sofie?” Mortimer suggested as we watched the forensics team struggle to scale a heap of stone, evidence cases in hand.
“My magic is not endless, Mortimer.” I would love to level the rest of Viggo and Mortimer’s home with another explosion but I needed all of my power for what we were about to face—it was far more threatening than a few army trucks and a forensics team. “I also want something that may still be inside.” A small canvas bag that held the only natural substance toxic to vampires. There was a very small chance—but still, a chance—that it remained intact.
“I’ll come with you,” Caden offered.
My mouth opened to refuse him. I probably would be better off going alone, but this ensured that Caden was not out of my sight. I’d promised Evangeline that I would protect them. I knew that Caden was at the top of her list. “Fine, the rest of you, stay here. If it looks like we’re in trouble, provide some sort of distraction. If we separate, you all know where to meet.”
Though Galen was a thorn in our heel every step of the way, he had prepared us well, arming us with programmed cell phones and two-way radios, blow torches and lighters for effectively killing fledglings where my magic might not be available, and a rendezvous location in front of the Alice in Wonderland statue in Central Park should we find ourselves dislocated. The last thing we wanted to do was lose track of our small team, especially when sunrise—and my difficult decision—would come quickly.
Caden and I scaled down the fire exit, leaping from one platform to the next with the ease of ghosts and without regard for spectators, though I doubted anyone would notice. They were too focused on the mayhem across the street.
“How do you want to do this?” Caden murmured as we ducked under the police tape.
“As quickly and quietly as possible,” I hissed back as several police officers raised their hands to stop us. “Starting now.” I ran, sensing Caden’s presence beside me as we sprinted past the officers, forensics, and firefighters, leaving them scratching their heads.
As I’d hoped, the blast of fire had demolished everything above street level, but the underground remained passable. Several of the entrances were still open for passage, propped up by constructed wooden supports. Even in utter darkness, I could see numerous dusty footprints. The humans had already been down here, likely scouring for survivors.
But the small crowd of investigators hovering around the blood cellar had discovered something more. Judging by the frowns and low hum of voices and flashes of a camera, it was very concerning.
I couldn’t blame them. The room resembled a morgue—Viggo did design it after all. Stainless steel panels stretched from floor to ceiling, and behind each one was a refrigerated drawer. The supply had been almost drained, leaving perhaps one or two drawers with evidence.
I’d destroy those before we left here tonight.
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” I crooned, stepping into a beam from the temporarily erected light. “And madam,” I added, nodding to the single female with a camera in hand and an FBI badge around her neck. Heads slowly turned toward my voice, unrushed, likely expecting another officer or specialist, there to feed them important information. “You shouldn’t be down here. It’s very unstable.”
When their eyes scanned over my black attire, my wild red hair, my oddly casual smile, I saw the flickers of suspicion ignite.
Quickly penetrating each gaze with my own, I pulled all five minds into mine, watching the swirl of cloudiness take over their irises. “Forget you ever saw the contents of this room,” I droned. “Turn around, walk to the end of the hall, and take the stairs up. Do not come back down. Report that you have found nothing of interest.”
Like drones, the five began moving past us in single file, in the direction we’d just come. Caden edged past the last person to step into the very familiar cellar. He and his friends had spent many hours in here, trying to curb the uncontrollable urge that came with tasting human blood again.
That’s when the tall, dark-haired man bringing up the rear raised a gun and shot Caden three times in quick succession. The sound of the blasts ricocheted through the hall, no doubt reaching the ears of those above.
With the handgun a mere foot away, the bullets exploded into Caden’s back. Two of them exited his chest. The third did not.
The shuffle of feet behind me stalled, the loud bang interfering with my compulsion. “Exit, now!” I commanded, my eyes wide as Caden dropped to his knees with a growl, his face grimaced with pain.
Then the man turned the gun on me.
Luckily I was ready.
And I was faster.
Flying forward, I shoved the gun upward as his finger tugged the trigger, sending the bullet through his chin and into his skull. His body dropped to the ground in a heap, and his heart stopped beating a few seconds later. Yanking his limp hand, I immediately spotted the telltale tattoo of the People’s Sentinel—an angled cross—on the meaty part of his thumb.
Lilly was right. They truly had infiltrated everything. And this one had clearly been spelled by the witches to resist compulsion. Dammit! I knew it was possible because I’d already faced it several times, but this time there were no signs, no warnings. The witches had somehow advanced their spell! As if we didn’t have enough to deal with already.
Caden’s growl stole all other concerns from me. “I won’t heal!” He pushed out through clenched teeth, on his knees, his hand pressed against his chest.
“Shit,” I cursed, dropping down to meet him eye to eye. Viggo had been kind enough to ram a wooden stake through my heart more than once so I knew how painful this was. One of the bullets must’ve lodged itself in Caden’s heart. The Fates had designed our kind so strangely. Our hearts no longer beat, no longer sustained our lives, and yet we needed them wholly intact to function.
Footsteps pounded down the stairs in the distance. We’d have countless witnesses to deal with soon, which would lead to countless bodies. I’d hoped to avoid that. We needed to get out of here and I didn’t have time for finesse. “Okay, hold still. This may hurt.” Caden fought with gritted teeth to hold his scream in as my magical coils penetrated his chest, coiling around the bullet. Sure enough, it was lodged in his ventricle. I gave it a sharp tug, tearing through walls of muscles and bones and lungs and skin until the bullet clanked onto the dusty concrete.
I lost myself staring at it for a split second. What if that had been a “special gun,” like the one that Mage had described, the kind that used explosive bullets specially designed to kill our kind? Caden would be dead! We hadn’t been in the city for an hour and I’d have to go back to the mines and tell Evangeline that, after all that she’d been through, I’d gotten him killed. And for what? A bag of merth?
But he wasn’t dead, I reminded myself, pushing the nausea away.
He would be fine in seconds. Knowing that, I left him to heal and ran into the vault, to the corner where the ventilation system hid a small canvas knapsack. I knew it was there without seeing it. I could feel the tingle deep within my core, the warning of danger. Tearing off the grate, I reached in. The bag tumbled down through the small space. I sighed with relief.
And followed the sigh with a slack-jawed stare.
A necklace—a chain with a smooth black heart-shaped stone—hung knotted around the strap.
The prickles on my neck spiked. My sixth sense for a special kind of evil.
Viggo had been here. And he’d been here since the attack.
He must’ve known where the merth was and he obviously knew that I would come for it. How, I was afraid to guess. But, he knew. And he wanted me to know that he was a step ahead of me, that he was near.
And that he was still a real threat.
“We have to go!” Caden called out urgently, his voice strong once again.
Remembering Mage’s warning, I yanked the chain until it broke and covertly tucked the necklace into my pocket, then turned around.
“Drop the bag. Hands above your head!” a soldier yelled. I heard the safety kick off his gun, followed by a chorus of four more as several soldiers slid cautiously through the doorway to position themselves along the wall, all pointing heavy-duty weapons at our chests. My stomach tightened. These had to be the guns Mage was referring to. I instinctively scanned their hands. Two more Sentinel tattoos stared back at me.
There was no point compelling them, and we were in danger if we didn’t get out of here.
“We have what we need,” I said quietly, directed at Caden, hoping he’d understand.
His almost imperceptible nod told me that he did, thankfully.
We vanished up and out of what was once our asylum, a chain of explosions into an empty blood vault chasing us the entire way.
*
“All that for merth? Why the hell would you want that toxic weed, anyway?” Kait screeched, cowering away from Caden as he looped his arms through the canvas knapsack. His wince told me that he could feel the sting, though it wasn’t enough to overtake him.
“Because it’s the last of it in this world and we may have use for it in the future,” I said, shaking my head at the garish vampiress, her bright orange painted lips glowing in the darkness. So typical of our kind. We were at the top of the food chain and would rid the world of anything that might threaten that position. Ignoring her further mutters of discord, I focused my attention on Caden. “Are you okay with that? I’d carry it but it can leach my magic, and we need that right now.”
“I’m fine.” He grimaced. “For now.”
Giving his shoulder a pat, I stepped over to the edge to watch the latest excitement. More police had been called in to guard the perimeter and several new military trucks rolled in. We had no reason to go back in now, though.
“What happened in there?” Lilly asked.
“You were right—the Sentinel is everywhere. We can no longer trust our powers to compel,” I muttered, not really answering her question. “I’m going to kill every last witch on this planet, if it’s the last thing I do.” They were the catalysts for this human revolt, giving them power they otherwise wouldn’t have. If the humans would just live in ignorant bliss, we wouldn’t be dealing with this.
The witches would never be satisfied. Ironic, given it was their causal enchantment—their need for immortality and youth and beauty—that created vampires to begin with.
If I killed the witches, this human army would lose much of its protection and intelligence. They would fade into the background and, after eliminating a few key leaders and letting generations pass, we could hope they would disappear forever.
Of course, the Fates would not approve of this, I was sure. Without witches, there would be no causal enchantments cast. Without causal enchantments, the Fates had no permission to meddle in our world, no reach to wreak havoc. I’d learned that from my brief encounter with them and I fully intended to use it.
I would never cast a causal enchantment again.
“Any sign of Viggo?” Mortimer called out.
Not trusting myself to speak, I shook my head no, unable to keep my gaze from flittering to Mage. She was watching me. Lying was the right thing to do and yet I dreamed of the day that honesty would take over. I’d been surviving in this web for far too long.
“I suppose that’s good.” Mortimer closed the distance to tower beside me.
I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “Where do you suppose he is right now?” That sixth sense hadn’t faded since the blood vault. I presumed that it had to do with the quarter-sized pendant tucked within my pocket, suddenly as heavy as a boulder. It wasn’t that I didn’t expect to face Viggo again. It was that I hadn’t expected it this soon. And I wasn’t one hundred percent sure how to interpret the meaning of the pendant left there. Was his plan to elicit fear?
Mortimer’s mouth twisted. “If this were the calm and unruffled Viggo, then I’d suspect he was already halfway across the world, biding his time.” The calm and unruffled Viggo had patience that could rival a Tibetan monk. He would wait years, decades, even centuries, to get what he wanted.
But we both knew that we no longer had that version. We had the one who had lost Veronique’s heart, who had been outsmarted by a human, and who would be desperate for revenge. On Mortimer, on Mage, on the world.
War or not, I knew that I wouldn’t rest until Viggo was dead. I wish I’d incinerated him. He’d vanished the second his hands left Evangeline’s neck, before her body crumbled to the cobblestone, before I had a chance.
“Why?” I felt Mortimer’s penetrating brown eyes settle on me and I knew I had stepped onto very thin ice, asking about our adversary.
“Just strategizing. But, let’s focus on the immediate task. Jonah.” Calling on my magic, I quickly recreated my simple tracking spell that had served us so well in finding Jonah the first time. If we could find him and his horde, we could be done with this quickly. I held the glowing purple bracelets out. Looking for multiple deaths would logically—in my spell-casting mind anyway—require multiple blood sources. “I need you all for this one.” We couldn’t waste our time with one-offs right now; we needed to find places where large groups were attacking.
A screeching metal sound filled the air—Caden and Bishop, tearing strips off a nearby solar panel. They handed them out. Those who knew what I needed from previous experience—Mage’s and Evangeline’s friends—slit their palms and held their hands above the magic coils, blood droplets splattering down.
“More! I need more!” I demanded, looking to Mortimer and the others, who quickly followed suit.
I set loose twenty tracking rings and slipped the sister links over my wrist. Leaning against a half wall, I settled in to wait for an alert, my arm a sleeve of glow-in-the-dark bangles.
We waited in silence.
And waited.
And again, my mind wandered, not to the witches or Jonah or the sanity of this plan, but to Viggo. What exactly was he up to, so boldly warning me? What was his plan of attack going to be? I didn’t doubt for a second that he had one and that it would be malicious in intent and vicious in delivery.
Could he be watching us right now? My eyes roamed over the surrounding rooftops and shadows. If he could see Caden or me right now, would he know that Evangeline wasn’t dead? He was certainly smart enough to realize that neither of us would care about a war if he had succeeded in killing her.
Mage sidled up to me. “Something caught your attention?” The woman could read me like a book. Maybe she’d been lying all along and could tap into all of our heads, reading our thoughts.
“Just my fears. Keep your eyes peeled.”
“Any chance your magic is going to be useful sometime soon?” Galen muttered, less than five minutes later. The scowl hadn’t left his face since the mines, deepening whenever his eyes drifted in my direction. If I had to guess, he was bitter with me for forcing him to leave Cecile in a pool of her own vomit.
I felt pity for him. Still, I couldn’t keep the sneer from my lip, ready to show him just how useful my magic was at inflicting pain to insolent bastards.
If not for the sudden burst of purple light flashing from my wrist, I might have.
It was time.
“Follow me.”
Like ghosts, we passed through the streets at inhuman speeds, the call from the bracelet growing stronger with each block. When we rounded a corner to see people screaming from a boutique hotel, we knew we’d found our first battle site.