Haven (11) “Have you had any contact with Martin?” Dom thought she would lie again, but he already knew the answer from the way she had spoken of him. “I was the one who interrogated him.” Grace was already counting out money from her purse and grabbing for the check. “So, how did he escape?” He asked. “It’s need to know.” She stood up and left the table. * * * * * * * Snow silently assailed the city, driving almost all natural life from the streets and sidewalks. Most of the passersby were not human, so little attention was paid to the child-like creature that walked alone along the dark streets. Pepper enjoyed nights like these. Seldom was she bothered by humans asking where her parents were. She walked merrily through the snow, looking into the windows of shops and offices that had not closed yet, mostly admiring her own reflection. Her scarlet hair was pulled into a tight topknot away from her finely sculpted face. She knew that she was very attractive to her own kind, but wanton stares from human men often distressed her since she appeared as a human girl roughly thirteen years old. Pepper eventually turned away from the windows for this very reason. Tonight, Pepper was hoping to find something interesting in the city, though she was beginning to doubt that was going to happen. For some reason all of the vampires seemed particularly edgy tonight. The lycanthropes had sensed something bad in the wind. Her people, of course, were as boring as ever. She had been thinking recently about leaving Haven. Pepper dipped her mind into that place where the future was stored. She did not want the future, however, but it was a Fae trick of prophecy. Pepper’s mind grabbed hold of the future and traced its lines carefully back to the present. In this fashion she explored what was going on at that moment all over the city. She had done this countless times in her life, and it had never failed to lead her to something exciting. She saw the vampires rallied in the old hall. She had heard of all the recent deaths, which even her own people were concerned with. Her vision revealed the lycanthropes loping through the snow with animal grace. Hardly any of the shapeshifters dwelt within the city. Pepper avoided looking into raksasha business. Those creatures disgusted her more than any other monster in Haven. Her own people, of course, would have detected her quiet spying on them, so she avoided them as well. Beginning to become disappointed, Pepper stretched the limits of her inner vision. Two points of interest caught her attention. Both were within the city. One of them was much more interesting than the other: Some lone creature prowling the streets in confusion. Knowing that the supernatural held some dangerous unknowns (even to her), Pepper probed the creature gently, hoping that whatever it was did not recognize what she was doing. Her hidden senses could get nothing from it. Her attention then turned to the other interesting thing she had found. Pepper was familiar with the Society of Haven and much of its history. She recognized this vampire now entering the city limits as Martin. The girl that marched at his side was unknown to Pepper, but it was clear that she was a vampire as well, and she was his. Just for fun, Pepper followed the path of Martin’s future in her mind’s eye. Most people that find that the Fae have prophetic abilities usually expect those abilities to be much more clearly defined. The future is always a tricky thing to read for the Fae. Their minds are based on much symbolism, and take in a larger span of time than any creature on the planet. They are also often barred by things that the Fates find unsuitable for Fae knowledge. Pepper could tell some things about Martin’s future, including the fact that it would cross with her own in a few minor ways. Several things about Martin’s future pleased Pepper with morbid joy. His arrival in Haven was the beginning of chaos for the Society. A girlish smile spread across her face with this knowledge. However, Pepper was not happy, as most Fae would have been, to see the mark of death hanging clearly in Martin’s future. It was well known that he, as a vampire, had never been what the Fae would have considered evil. As a whole, the Fae disapproved of vampires, but Pepper had never been able to hate them as most did. Of course, she was always willing to work her mischief among them, but never would she wish death on one of them. The mark of death hanging over Martin was not just a portent of his own demise either. He had the capacity to take quite a few people down with him. Still though, she felt no inclination to try to prevent it. The Fae are strange like that. * * * * * * * Stephanie peered through a door slightly ajar at the poor young vampire just outside the meeting chamber. She pitied him that he went about his duties so miserably. In times past she knew that the High Ones would have had him about more exciting business. Seamus was rather impressive for a fledgling of so few years, but these were not the times that made history, and his duties included little more than sweeping out the old hall. She closed the door silently and turned back toward the conversation that she had been ignoring. She found that Eric and Les, two other older vampires, were staring at her expectantly. Stephanie had obviously missed some question that was directed at her. “What?” She knew she sounded the perfect fool. “What do you think we should do about the police breathing down our necks?” Eric repeated the question for her. “The police are no worry of mine,” she said sternly. “They cannot expose us, so what are we worried about?” “They do not have to expose us to turn against us and bring the greater part of Haven’s population with them,” chimed in the vampire closest to Stephanie’s age. Stephanie narrowed her eyes on the woman called Nephra. “They know better than to come against us. They think our numbers are three times greater than they are. Tell them again that it is out of our control. Give them more money if they protest.” Nephra stood to protest, but she never had the opportunity. At that moment the door was opened forcefully by two humans that immediately began cleaving chemically stained blades through vampire flesh. Stephanie being the closest to the door was the first to feel the bite of their tainted steel. The man swung the curved blade toward her face, but her reflexes exceeded his expectations. She caught him hard about the wrist before the blade had made contact. Stephanie realized quickly that she had not accounted for his partner, and she paid for her mistake in blood. In an instant the girl’s blade was buried to the hilt in Stephanie’s abdomen. In the time it took her to throw the man out of striking distance and turn her attention to the girl, Stephanie realized that she had not been wounded by any normal means. The comprehension of this fact slowed her reactions enough for the young blonde to slash upward with the knife, stopping short just at Stephanie’s throat. The girl kicked her in her bleeding stomach sending Stephanie hurtling to the floor. Stephanie did not move. She thought it better for the two to think her dead while she healed and let the other High Ones overpower the couple. Terror gripped her when she realized that her wound was not healing as it should have, and several other bodies had now been put to the floor. She lay as still as the dead listening as the melee slowly ended. When it was finally over, Stephanie was sure that the two humans still lived. She continued to listen as they rifled through books and papers that had been hoarded in the old hall for nearly a century. “We should thank Martin if we find him,” said the girl giddily. “There were twelve of them all together. Six more than we expected.” “I can count,” the man answered her coldly. “Let’s go.” Stephanie gritted her teeth at the discovery that Martin had led them here. She tried to stand and follow them, but found that she could not. * * * * * * * Seamus groaned in terror as he saw the two people leave the old hall, cleaning blood from their drawn blades. He had climbed to a ledge of the nearest building to wait for them to exit the double doors. When they stepped out into the streets, Seamus tried to pick up something of their thoughts, but he found their minds to be strangely blocked to that sort of probing. Again he heard the woman mention something about Sarah, and this time she said something about Jenny as well. Seamus thought of trying to seek one of those two out and warn them, but he knew that first he would have to know what he was warning them of. In one graceful leap, Seamus was on the pavement and moving toward the old hall’s entrance. It only took a moment for him to reach the door that led to the High Ones’ meeting chamber. The door had been left ajar by the murderous pair, revealing their gruesome handiwork. Seamus did not bother to check the bodies. He only slammed the door closed and ran from the old hall. He no longer thought of warning others. Only escape consumed his mind. A safe place was all that he cared to find tonight. * * * * * * * With the flick of a sharply crafted fingernail, blood ran free from the man’s neck. Pink lips covered the wound softly and caught the crimson flow. Jenny let out a moan as the blood splashed across her tongue. She sucked violently at the broken vein until she could draw nothing more from the corpse. Her body urged her to seek out another victim, but Jenny resisted. She decided that she needed to go home, lest her desire to kill again was granted opportunity. The blood addiction was not an easy thing to control, and Jenny’s life was a contrast battle not to fall under its sway again. Fighting down her dark impulses, Jenny stepped out of the alley where she had dragged the criminal only moments before. Grudgingly, her feet started her toward her house. Something about the city did not seem right to Jenny. The taking of blood usually heightened a vampire’s less mundane senses and she was still well within the thrall of her victim’s blood. The city somehow seemed more oppressive in its darkness. Being one of the darker beings within the city, she was not accustomed to such sensations. She had no time to ponder what the mental apprehension might mean. After only a moment of walking, Jenny felt a sharp pain in her right calf. She stumbled and fell to the concrete. Whatever it was that had pierced her leg seared with an indescribable pain. She struggled to her feet as quickly as she had fallen when she heard the sound of approaching footfalls. Pivoting on her good left, Jenny saw two people running toward her. The small blonde woman wielded a small crossbow loaded with a metal bolt, which currently was aimed at Jenny’s chest. Jenny did not move. Her leg was beginning to ache with a spreading flame-like sensation, but she was determined to stand her ground against her attackers. The woman fired the weapon at Jenny, but the bolt never hit its mark. Jenny had always known that her reflexes were better than even some of the eldest vampires, but she surprised herself as she gracefully plucked the crossbow bold from mid-air. It was likely that surprise, she reflected later, that drew her attention from the second assailant. Again Jenny’s flesh felt the pain that Render induced in vampires when the man’s thrown knife sank deep into her ribs. Jenny screamed. It was no ordinary human sound that poured from her throat, though. The scream wrenched away the silence of the night and replaced it with a noise that sounded as though it issued from the most stygian corners of the earth. Jenny let Grace and Dom feel the anger and pain in her broken cry. She wanted them to fear her. She wanted her rage to be palpable in the air between them. And, when the scream had died away, the pair reacted to it just as she had expected. The both of them stood paralyzed in pure terror of the inhuman roar that they had witnessed. Jenny made use of the opportunity to make her escape. She was not sure how far or for how long she had run, but she was fairly certain that her assailants were not in pursuit. Her vision had begun to blur when she finally stopped and her lungs ached tremendously. It was not until she had stopped that Jenny noticed the man’s dagger still protruded from her side, wedged between two lower ribs. Gingerly, Jenny gripped the hilt of the blade with her thumb and forefinger. Her fangs gritted loudly as she jiggled the knife sickeningly until she had dislodged it. A pathetic whimper escaped her as the knife fell quietly to the snow-shrouded concrete. Starting to limp forward again, Jenny wiped at the bloody tears that flowed involuntarily down her cheeks. Ten minutes of walking had reduced her to a slow painful crawl. She continued to move forward, however. Determination to reach her home had for some reason become paramount in her mind. After crawling a few blocks, Jenny finally gave up on her destination. She lay bleeding in the snow for a long time, thinking she was going to lose consciousness. When finally she realized that she was still quite awake, Jenny cried out again, this time for help. Her voice rang out through the city like some wordless animal cry. No one came to her aid, though, and Jenny knew she could not stay there. She continued to move forward as best she could. In the pain of just moving another shriek came involuntarily from her mouth. Still though, she moved on, leaving a bloody trail in the snow behind her. Finally, she felt that she could go no further. She pulled herself onto the steps of an apartment building where she planned to lay until the sun destroyed her. Jenny was vaguely aware of the door opening. Crippled in her pain, it was a challenge even for her to look up. The familiar form that stood before her wore white sneakers, a robe, and little else. Jenny could have laughed out loud at the favors traded by fate * * * * * * * Dom opened the door to his apartment, and gestured for Grace to enter. The lights were already on when she moved inside the shabby living room. She was surprised that Observers were issued such meager lodgings. “Sit down,” Dom said, motioning to a worn and threadbare sofa. It was not an invitation, but an order. Grace complied immediately. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?” Dom had taken up a chair in front of her. “What do you mean?” Her voice was quiet and shaky. Dom figured her mind was just beginning to wrap around the fact that she had ended the existence of twelve (possibly thirteen) beings. “I mean there is something about this operation that you aren’t telling me.” Dom spoke harshly. He had been working for the Organization for fifteen years, and he knew enough about the way they functioned to see that he was being left out of the loop. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dom thought that he say the hint of a devious smile creeping at the corners of Grace’s mouth. He could have hit her. It had been Grace that had found Jenny coming out of the alley after receiving a mysterious phone call. Dom had wondered at the coincidental encounter with the vampire female that had not been included in the Organization’s list of targets. He quickly connected the run-in with the phone call, and was troubled by the fact that he had not been let in on something. “I mean, do we have an insider in Haven?” “Yes, actually we do.” “Then why wasn’t I informed?” “There was no need to tell you. As I have already said, some things are on a need-to-know basis.” Grace tried to sound polite, but it was not working. Such things seldom sound good no matter how one says them. “Who is it?” Dom was not at all happy about being left out of the loop, and he was not in the mood for programmed responses from the girl. “I’m not authorized to tell you that.” The response came cold and flat from Grace. “When it comes to my life being threatened from lack of that knowledge it becomes your obligation to tell me. If you like, I can site the clause in your contract.” Dom was very close to reaching his breaking point. “I’m familiar with the protocol, but I haven’t seen you in any immediate danger of dying.” This time there was quite a bit of emotion. Dom had obviously offended her by implying that she knew little about her obligations as a First-Class Cleaner. “Might I point out that we put enough Render in Jenny to drop a vampire rhino, and she ran away at full speed.” Dom thought he had made his point. “She was stronger than I expected. I didn’t know—“ “I know you didn’t know. Now, who gave you the information about her?” Grace sighed, seeing Dom’s point. She stared at her fingers as if she were very interested in them. Dom got the distinct impression that she was stalling, but he let her. She was not going anywhere, and she would tell him eventually. “It’s one of the Fae,” she said finally. Dom’s face dropped it’s angry mask and remolded itself into a visage of shock. “How did we get involved with the Fae?” he asked slowly. “I really don’t have the specifics, but it is my understanding that they contacted us.” “And, what is he getting out of it?” “He is part of a radical movement of the Fae that are calling for the destruction of all vampires and raksasha.” “The Organization would not take chances with someone like that,” Dom said apprehensively. He saw where the conversation was going, but he could not shake the feeling that Grace was lying to him. “Dom,” Grace said with equal apprehension. “Things are changing.” The statement was simple. It could have meant a million different things, but it did not. Dom had never been at odds with the goals of the Organization. He had joined its ranks with every intention of helping them maintain an ideal concept. However, Grace’s comment about change could have only meant that the ends that the Organization was working toward had changed. Being that they were now working hand in hand with a fanatic group of the Fae could mean only one thing. “So, we aren’t just thinning the herd anymore, eh?” Dom’s voice was somber and low. “No. It has been determined that this species of undead is far too difficult to contain. Our projections show that the vampire population will be at two percent of its present status in a little under ten years.” Dom was surprised to hear regret on the fringes of her words.
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