Viggo and Mortimer sat at their bistro table, guarding Veronique, as usual, oblivious to the real danger threatening us. The Ratheus vampires—if I could even still call them that—were milling about, now that they’d drained their supply of human blood. Their eyes darted furtively around the atrium and the balconies, as if searching for a human hiding amongst the charred leaves. My eyes rolled over Caden and the others, off in one corner, and rolled on as I intentionally avoided eye contact. Mage had been smart to stop me from reading Caden, that first day. Viggo would have spotted the truth, had it flashed in my eyes for even the briefest of seconds.
First things first, though. I bolted for the exterior doors, sidestepping the few vampires still trying to pull blood from the gardener’s drained corpse, and stopped in front of the security keypad on the wall. Thank God Leo gave me the pass codes to do this. I quickly reprogrammed the passwords, a small giggle escaping me with the knowledge of how this would infuriate them. There. Both the exterior garage and the exterior walk-through door were locked down. No one would enter. No more innocent people would die.
I walked back, more light-hearted than when I had left them, smiling my satisfaction as I watched understanding dawn in Viggo and Mortimer’s eyes, before fury narrowed them. Mage stood nearby. Our eyes touched, and my lips tucked up at the corners in appreciation of her suggestion. She acknowledged with a barely perceptible nod.
“Why would you do that?” Viggo yelled. “I have blood trucks ordered and on their way! Are you going to let them in?”
“We can’t have Red Cross trucks pulling in here, with the Sentinel hovering,” I threw back, adding after a snort, “And I won’t have innocent truck drivers massacred for your entertainment. No. I’ll take care of it.”
“Hey, Reg,” I said when Reggie’s deep voice answered, using my friendliest pitch. Reggie was a supervisor at one of the city’s Red Cross blood banks. Two weeks ago, he had loaded a utility truck with blood and smuggled it inside for me—a gold mine when shoring up supplies in anticipation of four vampires. Of course, I had compelled him to do all of this, and had him at the ready to respond to future needs, leaving me with an open source of blood when I needed it. Like now.
A long pause, then, “Sofie.”
Something isn’t right. I had expected a much warmer reception. “I need more blood, Reg.”
Another long pause. “Um . . . Okay.” His voice quavered with fear. “Be at the receiving dock in thirty minutes.” The phone went dead.
He shouldn’t be afraid of me. I must have messed up the compulsion, forgotten to script it properly. I was normally so good at it! I hung up the phone, sighing my annoyance. Gone were the days where entire trucks could go missing without anyone being the wiser. Now, in the age of computers, every drop was accounted for. I could alter numbers, but then I’d have to follow the trail of information to cover a dozen different threads of evidence to hide my tracks. I didn’t have time for that. I needed human blood.
I headed straight for the garage, a spacious concrete room two floors below the ground level. Nearly three dozen pristinely maintained cars and trucks lined the walls within, some of which had never seen the open road. They were merely part of a collection, another one of Viggo’s material weaknesses.
My eyes drifted over the silver-blue Mercedes, with its dented and bloody front bumper—Viggo had used it to run down Evangeline’s mother. He kept it as a memento. Please choose Mortimer, Veronique, I prayed. Viggo would be as good as dead for what he did to Evangeline.
I climbed into the shiny black Navigator, the largest vehicle available for carting back a supply. As expected, the keys were in the ignition; Viggo didn’t fear breakins. The tires squealed as I peeled out, taking the winding ramp up to the atrium at high speed. As I crossed the threshold and pulled into the atrium, curious vampires quickly put two and two together: Truck going out means doors to outside world opening. Excitement flared in their vibrant irises. They began flocking toward the car entrance. “Great,” I groaned as I slowed the truck to a halt. “This won’t attract attention.” I pressed my hands against my temples.
Mage suddenly appeared in the passenger seat, the act of opening and closing the truck door happening too fast for me to even notice. “What can I do to help?”
The concerned vampire citizen again, are we? I leveled a stare at her. “Look, let’s get one thing straight: I don’t trust you, and you sure as hell would be smart not to trust me.” An amused look crossed her face as she nodded. I sighed heavily. “I can’t have a crowd of hungry vampires in the tunnel when I drive out the exterior door. People will see them—see what they are—even if they can’t get past the Merth.”
“Consider it handled. Be on your way.” With that, she vanished from my passenger seat and reappeared outside the truck, standing in front of the crowd. I inched forward, the low rumble of the big truck’s engine drowning out whatever Mage was saying. It had the desired effect, though; the crowd dispersed to the opposite end of the atrium.
A rap on my window stopped me. Viggo. I rolled down my window, curious.
“Which bank?” he asked.
I studied him, suddenly on edge. “Why do you need to know?”
He rolled his eyes in exasperation. “So we know when you’ll be back and we can move everyone from the gates again! You’ll need to open them to get back in, won’t you?”
“Oh . . . ” I hadn’t thought of the trip back. “Same place as last time.”
“Okay. So we should expect you back here within the hour. Call us when you’re near.”
“Yup.” Strange. Too helpful. What do you have up your sleeve, Viggo? My head was beginning to spin, trying to keep up with everyone’s various motives.
Mortimer appeared behind Viggo. “Keep a look out for them.” Mortimer’s bitterness with the People’s Sentinel was long-standing and obvious.
You have no idea, Mortimer. I rolled my eyes, but anxiety flooded my body. They were out there, watching. We had been careful not to react, not to hunt them down, wanting to sort out this mess with Veronique first. But now, with what I had just learned from Mage, I didn’t know if it was better to exterminate, or continue in silence. To be . . . complacent. That was the word Mage used. Had we become complacent? Was this another step down our predetermined path?
I waited as Mortimer punched in the code to open the interior garage door—I hadn’t changed that one. Throwing the truck into gear, I pulled into the tunnel, checking in my rearview mirror for any desperate vampires. None moved from the far side of the atrium. None attempted to defy Mage. It was as if she had power over them. Maybe she did.
I made it to the blood bank dock with two minutes to spare, after a small detour through the city to shake any tails. Normally I could tell when I was being followed, but today was not the day to take chances. The delivery entrance for this bank was in a wide alley, the tall brick buildings on either side providing some privacy from the street. I backed the Navigator up to one of the delivery doors and threw it into park to wait for Reggie. My fingers strummed the steering wheel as I watched various trucks at different stages of unloading through my black-tinted windows. Guilt fluttered as I thought of the generous people who had unwittingly donated to feed forty hungry vampires. It took the meaning of saving lives to a whole new level.
I sensed the approach a second before the white knuckles wrapped against the window. My finger on a button rolled the window down and I regarded my blood dealer, an unusually pale, blonde man who reeked of terror. “Is something the matter, Reggie?” I asked in my sweetest tone. Apprehension tightened my insides. He shouldn’t be frightened of me . . .
“There’s an unmarked delivery truck on its way from a drive,” he answered in a rush, ignoring my question. “I’ve deleted it from the main system so it’s free for the taking.”
Unmarked. That meant I could leave the Navigator here. Much easier than unloading and reloading. I flashed him my most appreciative smile as I pulled a thick envelope full of cash from the glove compartment and handed it to him. Viggo had cash stashed everywhere. “For your troubles.”
His eyes widened briefly as he took it, then he looked quickly around to check for witnesses before stuffing the envelope inside his lab coat. I heard the loud rumble of an approaching truck. “There it is,” he confirmed, turning to leave.
My hand shot out to grab his forearm. “Thank you, Reg.” He glanced down at my hand, then up at my face, giving me the chance to lock eyes with him. I needed to strengthen the compulsion for the next time I needed blood. “There’s no need to worry, Reg. I’m harmless. I would never hurt you,” I crooned, waiting for the hypnotic trance to kick in. “I may come back for more blood in a few weeks. Please be ready and willing to help me out.”
He nodded slowly, as if listening, but the haze of a compelled person did not register in his blue eyes. That’s strange . . . am I losing my touch? The second I let go of Reggie’s arm, he bolted into the building.
If I had time, I’d follow him in and try again. But I didn’t have time, I decided as a hospital-green cube truck parked beside me. No telltale blood-donor markings. Perfect. Hopping out of my Navigator, I opened the truck’s passenger side door and swung smoothly into the seat, earning a pleasantly surprised look from a balding delivery man in his sixties.
“Hello, sir. I believe you have a delivery for me?” I crooned, focusing in on his watery irises, pulling his mind toward mine as I had just attempted with Reggie. This time it worked.
“Do I?” he slurred.
“Yes. Please step out of the truck and begin walking away. Go home and take a nap. When you wake up, you’ll remember nothing about this truck or me. Right?”
“Right,” he drawled. Still mesmerized, he pawed absently at the door with his left hand, finally opened it, and spilled out of the truck. He staggered down the alley toward the street as if drunk.
“Okay. Now,” I murmured, sliding into the driver’s seat. I studied the truck’s gearshift. “At least it’s not a rig,” I muttered under my breath. Those were a pain to drive. I threw the truck into drive and began rolling forward.
Two black Dodge extended-cab pickup trucks pulled in front of me, blocking my path. I slammed on the brakes as four burly men hopped out of each, a mixture of fear and determination in their eyes as they peered up at me. My attention flew down to their hands. There it was, the Sentinel tattoo. That meant they knew this redheaded, green-eyed woman was no ordinary woman. This was no accidental encounter.
Rage flared within me. They had gotten to Reggie, used him for an ambush. But how had they broken my compulsion? “Oh,” I murmured, the puzzle pieces fitting together into a hideous picture. There was only one way to break a vampire’s compulsion: witch magic. That meant either Mage’s prophecy was coming true and the Sentinel was allied with the witches, or Ursula was back in action as a thorn in my side. I hoped for the latter at this point but, either way, I didn’t have time for this.
I briefly considered ramming the trucks but decided against it. The damage might stall the delivery truck. Plus, the noise would most definitely attract the attention of curious passersby. I couldn’t cause a scene in broad daylight in front of a blood bank.
I sighed heavily and rolled down the window. A gust of frigid November air struck me. “Hello, gentlemen!” I called cheerily.
The one closest to my door—a heavyset, brown-haired man of six feet—edged forward. He wasn’t getting too close, though. Smart. “You don’t look like the typical truck driver,” he answered with a nonchalant grin, trying to play up his ignorance of my identity. He was a decoy, of course, meant to distract me from the two men to the right who were busy readying a flamethrower drawn from a compartment in the back of one truck—the Sentinel’s weapon of choice against us. It was stupid, really, given the speed and power of a vampire, yet they still did manage to catch us unawares sometimes. But they hadn’t been dealing with the likes of me.
I couldn’t let this go any further, knowing they’d torch the truck, destroying the blood supply. I gave him my sweetest smile, all while plucking helixes of magic from my body, arming myself. I’d paralyze them. Simple. “Oh, but I’m not. You know that . . . don’t you?”
The grin slid off his face as his eyes darted to the others; he gave the slightest nod.
I laughed aloud. “Seriously? Haven’t you guys realized who you’re up against?”
With that, I sent a bolt of magic out to seize the flamethrower clean from the man’s grip, letting it fly back and smash through the passenger side window to rest on the seat next to me. Glass rained down everywhere but I barely noticed. “I’ve been looking for one of those,” I said conversationally.