Chapter Three: “Eternity”
A week ago, a vampire found herself momentarily stuck in a coffin. The vampire tried again to push the lid off. It didn’t budge.
In the coffin’s darkness, the iris of her eyes glowed hot red. She balled her right hand into a fist and, despite the lack of space in the coffin, she thrust forward. She went through the splintered wood she had already created and hit something metallic again. Whatever was on top of the coffin she was in, she felt it move a little.
With a snarl that was tugging at the corners of her lips, she thrust one more time, but this time angled her fist to the right. She felt the metallic object lift up and away, crashing down onto the floor. Yellow light spilled through the coffin from an overhanging chandelier.
Her hand, now outside of the coffin, searched for the latch. She felt the familiar smooth grooves of hardwood that had been waxed so thoroughly that it became waterproof. After a few moments, she found something—a mix of metal and wood in the shape of a topless mermaid. This was the latch she remembered on the coffin before she stowed herself away in it to cross the Atlantic ocean.
She had only time to hold and twist the latch when she heard a door opening. With no time to think further, she retracted her arm and kicked instead. The coffin door flew away backward, slammed into the wall before crashing down.
“You’re lucky the music is so loud,” said someone from the door.
The vampire emerged from the coffin like she had been asleep in there for centuries, her wavy long white hair falling past her shoulders and her icy skin framed her still glowing red eyes as she locked onto the speaker standing by a slightly opened door. Multi colored light with shades of red, purple and yellow peaked out from behind the door in an array of overlaid triangles. In the air was a stream of muffled bass pounding music which told her that the dance floor was not far.
“I am a friendly,” assured the speaker. “Zea, I presume?”
Zea’s eyes changed to her normal light blue eyes. She nodded at the speaker but kept her sight on him. The speaker was a black-haired man, clean shaven, wearing a black hooded sweater and drop-crotch pants. He closed the door behind him before making a slight forward bow, though making sure to avoid eye contact.
“I’m Peter Gilbert. Your contact and point for you in London,” he said.
“Yes, I know that,” she said curtly. She looked down and saw a metal safe with a good dent at the side. “You were told to put me in a secure place not trap me.”
“You are. This is the nightclub, Eternity, where most non council members like to party.” He looked at the safe with a bit of wonder. His kind was strong but to make a dent into what looked like six inches of steel while trapped in a confined space such as a coffin was certainly impressive. Would this be the result of being re-blooded by Elizabeth? He had heard rumors that the rebel vampire ran the blood of a very powerful and ancient vampire. “Sorry about that. I had not expected the humans to put your equipment in a safe and on top of your coffin, but you didn’t seem to have a problem. Must be her blood,” he chuckled nervously.
Zea glared. “No, we don’t do that. We train,” she clarified.
“Oh,” said Peter quietly. He nodded. “Right. Training. Elizabeth says our value and strength is not the blood we run.”
Zea got out of the coffin. “Where is the EC informant?” she asked.
Peter's lips twitched nervously. “EC?”
“What we call the vampire council here.” Zea did not tone down the displeasure in her voice.
“Right, the European Council. Sorry. I wasn’t inducted that long and I am still getting use to this,” stuttered Peter.
“The informant?” demanded Zea.
Peter gulped. “The informant is here--”
“Here where? I was expecting them to be standing where you’re at," snapped Zea. She had no patience. She wanted to be done with the assignment and be back in the states as soon as she can. She went to the safe and yanked out the front like she was plucking out a tissue from a kleenex box.
“She wants to meet in the main,” his voice trailed off as she watched Zea retrieved her weapons and gear from the safe. He watched her strap a geometric black sword onto her back. “Um, you aren’t planning on shooting up this place?” he asked.
Zea loaded a tactical shotgun. “If it requires to,” she said. She finished putting on her equipment by strapping on some throwing knives and hand-grenades to the inner sides of her long leather coat and belt, respectively.
Peter eyed warily at the now fully armed Zea. He had heard that Elizabeth’s agents were as much decked out with anti-vampire weapons as the hunters. He hunched a little as he made the mistake of leveling his eyes with Zea’s.
Zea nostrils flared. Peter didn’t have any weapons. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Were you planning on visiting our EC informant unarmed?” she observed.
“Well—,” started Peter.
“Here!” barked Zea. She removed the shotgun she had over her shoulder and tossed it to Peter, who caught it. “I didn’t put the safety on. If some shit EC runs at you, pull the trigger. You don’t even have to aim accurately. Just in their direction, but be careful of the blowback. It will hurt you just as much as it will with them.”
Peter gulped and nodded. He understood the implication that the shotgun’s bullets were not regular ones, and he was sure they were probably filled with holy water or something far worse. He swung the shotgun over his shoulder.
“Take me to the informant,” said Zea.
Peter nodded.
He led Zea out of the room they were in and into a dark hallway that glowed in a shuffling colors of purple, red and yellow. The bass of the music thrummed throughout the walls and floors of the hallway. As they walked down on it, the bass of the music started to climb into their bodies to the point that even their bones felt it.
“The informant is also a servant of Prince Drake,” said Peter offhandedly. He sneaked a peak at Zea to see her reaction. She had none. “You have heard of Drake?”
“The Brat Prince. Yes,” said Zea. They arrived at another door. The sound behind it was reverberating with far more intensity than what they felt so far. “You do plan on taking us somewhere where we can hear each other?”
“Of course,” said Peter before opening the door.
When they took a step in through the door, bodies on the dancefloor were cloaked in darkness, despite the dazzling colored lights. The bodies were too busy dancing to the rhythm of the heavy bass music that they did not notice the two armed figures among them.
Peter hoped Zea would be able to follow him as he weaved in and around chunks of bodies towards the other side of the dancefloor. At one point he didn’t even feel her presence, but when he looked back, he was surprised that she was there ever so intensely. He made no effort to ask her if she was alright. It would have been stupid. Plus, there was the music.
Peter and Zea arrived at the other side of the dance floor the moment the floor sunk to a lower level. Before them was an enclave of booths. The booths were purple plush, tall backs and all facing away from the dancefloor.
Noticeably, the music faded into the background.
“This area is built to have the sound move away. For conversation.” Peter cleared his throat. “To better answer your previous question.”
“Your first answer was sufficient,” said Zea monotonously. She had sensed two beings were behind them. However, she didn’t relay this to Peter. The man was already skittish with just her alone.
“Of course. I apologize,” said Peter as he pulled on his collar.
Two shadows swooped around them as they made their way to one of the booths. Glowing eyes watched them when they approached a particular booth with a young curly haired brunette haired woman. She had bulging eyes that seemed too big for her head.
“Guns, Peter? Really? Do you not trust me?” said the young woman.
Peter was about to answer, but Zea beat him to it. “All of your people are armed. How could we not?” she said.
The young woman tilted her head amusingly to Zea and said, “Ah, the agent of Elizabeth. Zea.”
“And you are?” said Zea as she crossed her arms.
The vampire pursed her lips. “Nova Sinclair of House Drake.” She waved a hand and two armed men in black suits dissipated out of the shadows that had passed by Zea and Peter moments ago. They stood on either side of the pair with guns in their hands. “One can’t be too carefree in such a time. A few months ago, an ordained wiped out House Decour. Those filthy hunters.”
Peter cleared his throat. “Um, Lady Sinclair, you wished to discuss something with us?”
Nova kept her eye on Zea as she addressed Peter’s question. “Yes, of course. Please take a seat,” she said.
Only Peter sat down on the other side of the booth. Zea just stood in place as well as the black suited vampires.
“Truly.” Nova jutted her chin at Zea. “I much prefer you sit as you are my guest.”
“No, I’m good,” said Zea.
“She’s a charming one,” smiled Nova.
“Elizabeth’s best, as I was told,” said Peter. His eyes nervously looked back and forth between Nova and Zea.
“Well, I would much prefer if Elizabeth was here personally but I guess it can’t be helped to be the Council’s number four on their hit list.”
“Only four?” scoffed Zea.
“And she has a humor!” chuckled Nova. She leaned back and smiled in such a way to show her fangs. “On the list of things concerning the Vampire Council: Number one are the Witches; Two Hunters; Werewolves a distant three; and your master is number four.”
“Fourth out of four?” said Zea.
“I know that’s disappointing. Tell her to make the explosions bigger,” laughed Nova.
Zea expression remained neutral.
“And her humor continues,” smiled Nova. She then leaned forward and clasped her hands together. “Now, shall we go into what I wanted to discuss?”
Zea nodded.
“The Council had gotten information that one of Abaris scrolls is to be auctioned at the Barclay’s bank on Sutton soon,” said Nova.
Peter lifted an eyebrow, but before he could speak, Zea cut in again.
“So what?” said Zea.
Nova shook her head. “I don’t think I would risk my life just to tell an agent of Elizabeth about old rolled up parchment. Now may I explain?” she said.
Zea flared her nostrils. “Continue.”
“Abaris was an Apollonian priest in ancient Greece. He was renowned for his knowledge and medicine. However, what it is not often spoken about, was that he was an occultist with an obsession with immortality,” explained Nova. “Apparently, he came upon one of the pages of the Sisters of Dawn’s grimoire.”
“So was what in the Sisters of Dawn’s grimoire gave him the immortality that he wanted?” asked Peter.
“That’s not the point.” Zea said through gritted teeth.
Peter sucked into his shoulders.
Nova empathetically smiled at Peter. “Perhaps he did, but the Council is very much interested in the scroll for other reasons. They hope that this is an authentic piece from the Sisters of Dawn’s grimoire,” she said.
“What is in the scroll?” asked Zea.
Nova wagged a finger. “We are on the same wavelength, Agent Zea. Unfortunately, I don’t know, but I do know it must be something big. Big enough to catch Prince Drake’s attention as well.” Her voice dropped even lower. “All I know is that he intends to use it against the Council.”
“So why not the EC just take out Drake?” said Zea.
“Because he's still their prince,” snapped Nova. “I was hoping that Elizabeth would take the scroll instead.”
“Destruction of the EC is one of our goals. So no,” said Zea.
“Not if it killed all the vampires in the world?” sneered Nova.
“I thought you said you didn’t know,” said Zea.
“I lied," said Nova.
In two quick flashes, the two black-suited men’s heads were on the floor. Zea now stood with her geometric sword, stained with their blood, in the hand of her outstretched arm. Without turning, she spoke at Peter. “Get up.”
Peter shot up and pulled his shotgun forward. Faces and fangs emerged. A chorus of growling can be heard over the backdrop of the music.
Nova licked her lips. “You’re surrounded,” she growled.
Zea grinned. “And that’s a bad thing?” She pulled out a grenade from her coat with her free hand and tossed it into the air.
Nova’s and Peter’s eyes went wide.
The grenade exploded mid air, releasing a dense fog. It enveloped the area quickly, blocking everyone’s vision—supernatural or not. Screams and shouts could be heard.
“Fucking, bitch--”
“Closed your eyes!”
“Cover your mouth!”
“Run!”
Gunshots rattled off. Peter's eyes stung, and his throat burned like fire. Then he felt someone place a mask over his face. He turned to the person and saw that it was Zea who was also sporting, albeit a different one than his, a mask. The mask that Zea wore had the top half a very dark tinted glass and the bottom half a gun metal with a strange reflection.
“And, of course, you didn’t bring a mask,” said Zea, her voice muffled from the mask. “Just shoot.”
“But I can’t see,” blurted Peter. All he could see around them was the fog and the occasional dulled colors of the lights.
“It doesn’t matter. They’re all ECs!” barked Zea. She moved her geometric sword in an arc and it founded itself a couple of heads.
Peter didn’t need another incentive and started shooting.
Zea sliced and slashed as she dashed away. With Each swing, she took an arm or head. In the background, there were flashes of Peter’s shotgun going off. That should be enough distraction as she headed for her target.
Her target tried to be clever.
Zea found the door. With a kick, she sent the door flinging backward. She stepped in.
Her target didn’t know she had been watching them in her coffin.
Zea stood towering over a cowering Nova with her sword. Fog seeping from behind her like ghostly fingers. She pointed her sword, blood dripping at the tip, at Nova. “A projection won’t hide you from me,” she said.
“How did you know?” croaked Nova.
With one clean swing, Nova’s head fell and rolled on the ground until it stopped at Zea’s boots. Zea sheathed her sword behind her back before making a low whistle. A metal black prism emerged from the wall and landed on her shoulder. It was a mini drone that she had attached to her coffin before she made her trip overseas. She took it and tucked it into her coat. “You did well,” she said like a proud parent.
Then she noticed there were no more sounds except for the low, heavy bass music. The fight was over. She turned around and exited.
The fog had dissipated. Among the bodies and leaning on the shotgun, was Peter. His mask was gone. He was bleeding on one side of his face as well as a line of blood running along one of his arms.
“Impressive. You’re still alive,” observed Zea.
Peter smiled, a fang was missing. “Tha--”
Something sliced his cheek. He turned around in time to see a vampire slumped down onto his knees with a knife embedded in his forehead. It was an awkward position as it seems like the vampire was taking a nap on his knees.
Peter gulped. He didn’t really see Zea move, but he was sure it was her. He recognized from the handle of the knife as one of the ones that Zea packed under her coat earlier.
Zea walked up to Peter. She supported him up with one of her arms and took the shotgun from him at the same time. She lifted the shotgun. “I believe you meant to say ‘Thank You’.” Then she blew off the kneeling vampire’s head.
***
“Do you believe what Nova said? It’s far fetched,” said a semi-translucent image of a red haired woman with wavy thick hair and green eyes, floated on top of the coffee table.
The floating woman was dressed in a business suit, but it was tailored to accentuate her curves. She was also sitting in a leather chair in front of an antique dark desk, and her finger was tapping irritatedly over a couple of sheets of paper. She shuffled the papers and put them aside.
“We don’t have a choice,” said Zea, looking up at the floating woman. She sat in a couch across from the coffee table.
“I don’t like this. If such a spell existed, you know some asshole witch would have used it by now. And if they didn’t, they’d certainly would have leveraged it at least as a threat to keep our kind in place let alone auctioning it off like some memorabilia. It doesn’t make sense. This has to be a trap,” said the floating woman.
“Perhaps but what if it was true? If it falls in the wrong hands, our revolution would be for naught. There won’t be vampires to have one. I have once believed that something was impossible, and it turned out to be devastatingly true. I will not make the same mistake again,” responded Zea. Her voice had a tinge of rawness.
The floating woman sighed. “I would put my foot down if it weren’t for Drake going after it.”
Zea nodded. “If the scroll does what Nova said it does, he will undoubtedly use it to blackmail the council, and he is spiteful enough to use it if they don’t comply.”
“Truly this is the problem when you let bloodlines rule. There’s always at least one psycho,” said the floating woman. She flicked her hair. “Get the scroll. Destroy if you can. If not, just bring it back home.”
“And somewhere in that timeline I get to kill Drake?” asked Zea.
“In due time. Scroll takes priority. As you know, all other agents are currently out on missions so no one can assist you. Not that you need it. I am currently placing an escape route for you to quickly get back,” said the floating woman wearily.
Zea hid her grimace upon hearing about the other agents. The sting from the last operation where all of them were together, cut them down to only a handful and the new recruits, however paltry in numbers, were not ready for field work. Not by a long shot. “Send the details on my phone. Over and out,” she said.
“Stay safe,” said the floating woman softly before disappearing into a silver box that was in the middle of the coffee table.
Zea leaned into the couch and took in the suite she was in. It was furnished with the finest furnitures and decor.
After the Eternity nightclub incident, they went to a high end hotel where Peter had reserved a suite prior to their meeting. The vampire was too injured to move and dawn was nearly upon them, so she had him stay in the bedroom while she stayed in the living room.
“Uh, are you done conversing with Elizabeth?” asked Peter from the bedroom.
Zea let out a sigh. “Yes, Did you want something?”
A door opened and Peter entered the living room. His wounds were gone. Zea envied that. If she had received those wounds, it would take her twice as long.
“I want to join you,” declared Peter.
“No,” said Zea.
“But this is about our kind! Drake is a lunatic and a tyrant.” Peter was shaking as he moved to stand in front of Zea. “He doesn’t care about us. None of them care. We’re nothing but disposable pawns. Fodder for hunters who cull us night after night like we’re a pack of sheep. Food for the weres and, worst, test subjects for witches.”
“This will be heavily armed. Likely another trap. You barely survived last night,” said Zea.
“I held my own last night! Elizabeth said we have to fight for our rights. Only then can we be truly free and equal among the masters and lords of Council,” said Peter. He was flushed red, but his eyes blazed with righteous fury.
Zea crossed one leg over the opposite knee. She rubbed her chin. She had that look once, long ago. Idealistic. Naive as hell. “Tell me Peter, why did you join us?” She motioned him to a seat that matched the couch across from her.
He did so. When he sat down, he rested his arms over his knees. He looked down and stared at the cashmere rug for a moment, collecting his thoughts.
“I was turned five years ago. A loner. No living family. Perfect fodder. My sire was an older fodder. He didn’t care much for me and just turned me over to one of the training facilities. We were there for a week at most. Trained us on basic shit. Then we were shipped off. Some of us went to various vampire houses. Most of us were sent to another facility.”
Zea pursed her lips. “Five years ago, huh?”
“Yeah, we were to be a distraction. We were slaughtered. And not by witches, weres or hunters.”
“By House Viram. I commend you for surviving that. I heard many died from the Viram and Duceland conflict,” remembered Zea. She had read from the reports from her spies that the conflict nearly involved the vampire royalty.
Peter's eyes misted a tint of red. “I saw many friends die and for what? Two vampire masters with a petty argument? I realized that’s what we are all really to them. Just fodder,” he said sadly.
“And you’re not. That’s why you aren’t coming tonight,” said Zea as she stood up.
“But--” protested Peter.
“Last night couldn’t be helped. I would much prefer for those new to our cause to not jump into missions. You’re not fodder,” said Zea.
Peter smiled broadly. He puffed out his chest. “I am ready to die for the cause. For Elizabeth.”
“Elizabeth prefers you alive. The cause will die if everyone in it dies,” said Zea. She crossed the room and went over to a desk. She pulled the drawer and picked up a laptop. “But I see you want to help. I don’t come over to Europe often so I would need a guide.” She turned to Peter. “Can you stay and just guide me?” she asked.
Peter stood up and saluted. “It would be an honor,” he answered proudly.
***
Zea didn’t need a guide. She had already studied up on the area while Peter slept yesterday, but she wanted him out of the way. As much as she appreciates his enthusiasm, he would only get in the way as he was now.
She picked up her tea and drank it. The black tea tasted of a slight citrus bitterness. Nevertheless, she enjoyed the tea as much as a vampire can. Food and beverages don’t quite have the same effect as when they were living. They don’t crave them. They can consume and drink like the living, even enjoying the taste, but there was no hunger or thirst to satisfy. Only blood is what they hunger and what truly will satisfy them.
Across from the cafe where she was sitting in was the Barclay’s bank. She observed a few bodies going out of the front. She noted the number of people. Soon it would close and then she would make her move then.
“Amon is a demon.” The words came from a skinny man who was conversing with a woman who looked well beyond his level from the table next to Zea.
“Amon-Ra and he is a god,” corrected the woman. “And no, we don’t have the funds to buy tickets for a trip to New York to check out the Egyptian exhibit.”
“C’mon, we can spare it? I really want to see it. We missed the exhibition when it was in London,” pleaded the man.
“I said we don’t have the funds,” retorted the woman.
Zea rolled her eyes and tuned out the couple. Her phone buzzed. She scrunched up her eyebrows and moaned a little when she read the name appearing in the lock screen of her phone. Her phone continued to buzz until she finally picked it up. “Yes, Peter?” she answered finally.
“I got the intel!” said Peter excitedly.
“Uh, huh,” she said.
“The scroll is in vault nine in the lower levels. Oddly, not that much security. I only see one guard,” commented Peter.
“Of course, like I said. A trap,” said Zea.
There was a short moment of silence before Peter spoke again. “I didn’t do anything. I just opened the computer and ran that program you told me to. Then there was the info with a video showing the insides of the bank.”
“Yeah, that’s what it’s supposed to do,” said Zea, her gaze at the entrance of the bank.
“I would imagine with this kind of tech you’d have that program sends the info directly to your phone,” pointed out Peter.
“And that’s why we let you in our group. That and you wanted to kill EC members,” said Zea, somewhat impressed. She took another sip of her tea. She counted three more people going out of the bank.
“How am I helping you then?” asked Peter.
“Keeping me company until I go in.” She smiled. She could hear Peter coughing.
“Uh, I--,” stuttered Peter.
“Flattered. Don’t worry, I am not interested in you that way. I prefer the company of women,” said Zea.
“I was going to say I would be honored,” clarified Peter.
“It was a joke, Peter,” chuckled Zea .
“A bad one. I prefer the company of men, by the way,” sassed Peter.
“Touché. I’ll buy you an American beer when this is all over,” smiled Zea.
“No, thank you. You can keep your nasty American beer,” said Peter.
Zea chuckled again. Peter was alright. She could see he was going to be a great recruit and, hopefully, an agent like herself.
“More tea?” asked a waitress who stood in front of Zea with a teapot.
A commotion outside the cafe had the waitress turning away before Zea could answer. Zea looked in the waitress’ direction and watched a wave of people clamoring to take a picture of someone coming out of the limousine that had parked in front of a nearby restaurant. Among the people, a dark haired woman slipped out of them and into a dark alleyway.
Zea narrowed her eyes. The movement was too smooth and fast for a human.
“Oh my god, that’s Kimlee Carter!” yelped the waitress.
“Who?” asked Zea but more to herself.
“She’s an A-list actress and is nearly in every current movie playing. She also has a nice makeup line with an awesome perfume too,” answered Peter. “Not that I know.” He coughed.
“And you know this?” Zea felt somewhat embarrassed and felt out of time.
“C’mon, now. You don’t watch movies?” asked Peter.
“I hardly have the time,” answered Zea, which was very much true nowadays.
The waitress turned around. “Sorry, about that. Did you want some more tea?” she asked.
Zea lifted up a hand. “I’m fine,” she said.
The waitress nodded and then went off to the next table.
“Elizabeth really keeps you busy, huh,” said Peter, trying to start a small talk to pass the time.
“Yes. How many are left in the bank? Civilians specifically,” asked Zea.
“Two people, it seems. How is Elizabeth?” asked Peter.
“She’s great. Nice person,” said Zea and noted one person exited the bank.
“Are you two, uh, together? I mean, she seems concerned for you," asked Peter.
Now Zea was coughing. “No.”
“Sorry. This is getting kind of awkward. Different question. How did Elizabeth become a vampire? I admire her greatly but I don’t really know her apart from what people whispered," said Peter.
Zea finally saw the two remaining people exit the bank. It was time.
“The short version. She was born in Boston in 1749. EC vampires decided to enter the Revolution war, and she asked a vampire to make her one so that she could fight them. I’m going in. Take my stuff and wait for me at the escape route. Especially, if I get into trouble. Got it?” said Zea.
“What do you mean in trouble?” asked Peter concerningly.
“I think Drake just sent someone to steal the scroll,” answered Zea. She wasn’t sure. After cutting down Nova, that vampire may very well be from the EC in an attempt to keep it out of her and Drake’s hands.
“Right. Makes sense," said Peter.
Zea stood up and placed a handful of pounds. She slung over her purse that she had set at her feet prior to entering the cafe. She nodded at the hostess who watched her place the money on the table. “Keep the change.” She left the cafe before the hostess could thank her.
“I’m moving in. Get to the rendezvous point for the escape route,” ordered Zea.
“I will. Be careful," said Peter before Zea hung up the call.
Zea crossed the street. She went to the dark alleyway where she had seen the vampire enter earlier. It was the path she was going to take anyway as there was a way through a basement window to get into the bank.
Once she reached the bank, she moved into an allway where one side was the bank and the other a barbershop. From there, she found the basement window and hesitated. Something was off. The glass was broken. Some of it melted. She also smelled the unmistakable scent of ash and burned flesh. Explosion? She didn’t hear any sound from across the street.
“What happened?” Zea looked at her phone. Earlier, she had sent her drone into the bank to do a scout. She swiped several times across images of different rooms on her phone before settling back to where the scroll was at and the one guard. “Hmm, everything seemed the same in these parts. Can you go to where I am at?”
Zea watched on her phone the view shifted, as if she was there and turning around, before the video abruptly went black.
“Fuck,” she cursed.
She put her purse on the ground and removed a round object clipped on the strap. The purse turned into a large duffle bag the moment she removed the object. She opened the duffle bag and equipped herself the same weapons and gears as was last night except for her shotgun. She had left it with Peter in case she was being chased to the rendezvous point and he needed to defend himself.
Then she knocked out the remaining glass before slipping through the basement window. Once inside, not more than three feet away, was a burned female body. She saw a pattern, a circle with five runes drawn in it, underneath the charred remains.
A trap she was expecting, but this was not what she was anticipated.
“Hmm, interesting. Witches,” she said to herself.
Also explains why her drone, who probably crossed a ward, went offline.
Zea frowned. She didn’t pack any of her anti-witch gear. A distant memory, an old wise man’s voice, emerged from the ghosts of those she had left behind:
If you can’t defeat an opponent without the sword, then having one won’t help you.
She took out her grenades from her jacket and set them on near a trash bin. They wouldn’t be useful against a witch—especially, as it seems, a fire specialist. She gritted her teeth. Witches that specialized with fire were particularly dangerous to vampires.
Zea moved past the remains of the vampire. At least she remembered the twists and turns to the vault that held the scroll. It won’t take her long before she reached there. She hugged the shadows whenever she could and made sure to scan ahead to spot any etching or symbols along the way.
As she got closer to the vault she saw more and more charred bodies. How did she not see this? She had both her drone survey the area and also tapped into their security cameras earlier. None of them showed the bodies, some she suspected were days old. She noted to herself to ask her research team about this.
Finally, Zea reached the room with the vault that held the scroll. She didn’t bother to hide in the shadows. The lone security guard, with his thumbs on his belt, and glowing purple eyes was enough evidence that such an action would be futile. The guard stood in front of the scroll which was encased in a glass box.
“Perhaps you’re lucky? It seems all of my fire wards had been used.” said a musing female voice came out of the security guards mouth.
Zea crossed her arms. “I’m looking to buy that scroll over there,” she said cooly.
The guard dissolved away to reveal a woman in a purple silk dress that matched her eerie purple eyes. She flicked her long black hair. “So you’re not one of the regulars attempting to steal the scroll before the auction?”
“How much?” asked Zea.
“It’s an auction, my dear vampire. As high as we can get it but we will not tolerate those who are unwilling to do so,” answered the witch. She took a step forward.
“So a few millions is a no go?” Zea took a step back in reaction. She had to maintain her distance in case the witch decided to barbecue her.
The witch smiled. “You are a funny one. No.” Her eyes narrowed. “Personally, even if you had a few billions, I won’t sell it to your kind.”
Zea clenched her jaw. The witch was one of those that were still bitter about past wars between their kind. “Ah, so all the burned bodies along the way were vampires?”
“No. A few hunters and werewolves. One stupid non-coven witch,” responded the witch.
“Look, something tells me that the scroll doesn’t do what I was told. Else, you’d wipe us off the map by now,” observed Zea.
The witch shrugged. “I cannot deny nor confirm that. However, I will not defy my priestess order. She wants it sold to the highest bidder. Now, I like you, despite you being a vampire. So I will let you turn away. You can try at the auction like everyone else but I am not sure how you will pull it off since it would be in the daylight on the rooftop and the buyer must be physically present. No third party allowed as well. Cash, gold or verified bank accounts only. Payments as combinations of the three are acceptable.”
“Those are some shitty rules. Sounds like you guys really don’t want to sell that scroll to vampires,” scoffed Zea.
“Ironic. The ECs were the ones that asked us to have those rules. You have ten seconds before I burn you to a crisp,” warned the witch.
“I like you too. So I am going to not kill you but I will take the scroll.” Zea dove to the left, rolling on her shoulder to miss a ball of fire before getting back onto her feet. Something felt off on the balls of her feet as she withdrew her geometric sword.
“You’re quick,” said the witch. “But that won’t be enough.”
Zea snarled, showing her fangs. She was quicker than that. She looked down to see her feet seeking into the floor. “What magic is this? I didn’t see any runes on the ground,” she said.
The witch pointed upward.
Zea followed and saw that there were giant outlines of runes and symbols burned into the ceiling of the vault. This was why she felt off on her feet. This was why she didn’t see any of the charred bodies on her drone’s and security cameras.
“Now be a good girl and burn,” said the witch as she lifted a hand.
A wave of flame rushed forward at Zea. The ghostly old wise man’s voice echoed distantly in her mind again:
If your opponent had you pinned and they attack you head on, what do you do?
Zea moved her sword with one hand, like a hypnotic dance, in a series of arcs. The flames moved around her, forced by the air from her sword movements.
The witch, to her, it seemed Zea had not moved at all. She watched the flames split around the vampire. Now it was her turn to snarl. “More!” she shouted.
Now a wall of flames encircled Zea. The ghostly old wise man’s voice asked concerningly:
And when they surround you?
Zea's eyes glowed red as she called upon her vampiric powers and her sword movements increased. The wall flames arched downward as if to encase her in a tomb of fire. However, they could only domed over her as the air around her sword movements kept them away.
“Just burn!” The witch shouted.
The flames grew taller and fiercer as if responding to the witch’s rage. Zea gritted her teeth. Her red eyes fading in and out with her true light blue ones.
The ghostly old wise man’s voice in her mind chastised her:
That won’t do. No matter how long you’ve trained—how many battles you’ve fought—even with your vampiric nature, eventually, you will get tired.
She took out a throwing knife from her coat with her free arm and threw it where she thought the witch was at. The fire kept on. Increasing in intensity.
“Your little knives are going to work. My fire will just melt them,” mocked the witch.
A tendril of flames broke through, jolting towards Zea’s chest.
Far into the distant in her mind, fading away, the ghostly old wise man’s voice laughed at her:
But that isn’t a bad thing! It is not over. No, it is at this moment you will see the universe, my dear student.
“Master, you rambled too much,” said Zea under her breath, pushing away that distant echo. She didn’t need to see the universe and it wasn’t over yet.
Not by a long shot.
She slashed her sword upward with such ferocity that it left her hand. The sheer force from that one moment created a whirlwind column of air. It caught the tendril in its vortex, pushing the flame upward.
The sword and the tendril of flame, carried by the vortex, thrust upward and crashed into the ceiling. The sword struck first, embedding itself into the middle of a rune. The flames came next and spread across like a snake uncoiling. Along its path, it erased all the burned in runes in a sea of blackness.
Zea, her feet free from the runic magic, bursted out of the wall of fires.
The witch had only time to open her mouth before she felt a fist in her gut. All air was knocked out of her before she felt a second strike across her back that sent her straight into the ground. All the fires went out.
Zea stood over the witch, slightly out of breath. She didn’t hit hard enough to kill but the witch will have bruising and some fractures tomorrow. “I commend you. That wasn’t easy,” she said.
The witch didn’t respond.
The vampire turned away. The scroll was there for her to take. All she had to do was grab it and run.
“Zea!” A familiar voice shouted behind her.
The vampire turned sharply in the direction of the newcomer. “What the fuck? You are supposed to be at the escape point!”
“Yeah but the video went dark. Looks like you had one hell of a battle,” said Peter who emerged where she had come from but stopped abruptly. He looked down in surprise to see a hand had curled around the collar of his sweatshirt. He was now face to face with Zea who was at his height. “You are really fast,” she said in awe.
“Go back, now,” commanded Zea before pushing Peter away.
He stumbled back. “But--” he sputtered.
“GO!” shouted Zea.
“The scroll is not there!” barked Peter.
Zea whipped back and saw that there was nothing in the glass box. She went over to the witch and kneeled beside her. She lifted the witch’s head by the hair. “Where is it? If I must, I will beat it out of you,” she threatened.
The witch only smiled. Zea let go of the witch disgustingly. She wasn’t going to get any answers.
“It’s a trap. Like you said,” said Peter. He took out a scroll from under his sweatshirt. “It was in another vault. I re-ran the surveillance video. There were weird glitches, and I noticed that the scroll was actually in two different vaults.”
Zea shook her head. Peter may have just saved her from further trouble. “I owe you one,” she said.
“I am actually a wine kind of guy. If you still wanted to buy me a drink,” smirked Peter.
“The one in his hands is also a trap,” smiled the witch, her eyes glowing purple once more.
The scroll in Peter’s hand burst into flames. Fire leaped up his arms. He screamed.
Zea, without thinking, dashed to Peter. She had only time to knock his hands, the burning scroll tumbling down to the ground. Flames jumped over to her from the scroll and singed down her half of her face, neck and shoulders.
The witch stood up, albeit she had a hand around her ribs. “I, Idina, will remember you, Zea, as I walked down the Halls of the Sisters of Dawn.” She murmured and then drew a rune into the air with purple light from her finger.
Zea’s eyes went wide. Remembering a witch in her past who did similar actions. “Stop!” she shouted and disappeared.
The witch’s eyes went wide when Zea reappeared in front of her and held her hand that had been tracing the rune in the air. The purple light of the rune faded away.
“No, don’t. Your life isn’t worth your coven,” whispered Zea desperately as if she was imagining the witch as someone else.
Idina curled a smile. “I am impressed by how you know this spell, but it seems your knowledge of it is incomplete,” she said. She turned her eyes to where she had drawn the rune. The purple light reappeared and completed the rune as if there was an invisible finger finishing it off. She then tip-toed up and planted a kiss on Zea’s forehead. “Goodbye, Zea.”
At first there was nothing. Then there was a light hovering the witch’s midsection. It started to grow.
Zea let go of her hold on Idina and ran for it, taking a still burning and screaming Peter with her. She didn’t look back. Madly, she dashed to the vault’s exit. She jumped right before she felt the heat wave hit her.
Boom!
A roaring explosion of flames blasted out of the vault and two dark shadows nearly escaped it. They landed hard on the ground and rolled before coming to a stop. The flames receded back. Smoke filled the area outside of the vault.
“Peter?” coughed Zea.
She pulled him behind a statue where she propped him against it. He was smoking and most of his skin was blistering. “I have to get you blood. Hang on.”
“No, too late,” croaked Peter. “They will come... you have to run.”
“We will leave together. Peter, fuck, stay with me.”
Peter tried to smile. “It hurts,” he whispered.
Zea pulled him up onto his feet. If she has to, she will give him her blood. They walked a few paces.
“I... wished…,” started Peter.
“Peter, you’re not dying. It’s just fucking fire!” assured Zea.
“Can’t. Feel strange... weak,” said Peter softly.
Zea she clenched her jaw. A trap indeed. She took one of his hands and found white markings like salt had been etched into the palm of his hand in a swirling pattern. The tightness of the coils in the pattern indicated it was a very lethal dosage. He must have got it when he took the scroll. “Vampire poison,” she said. She gently let Peter down. There was nothing she could do. Soon he would be gone.
“I wished I could…,” said Peter weakly. His eyes were hardly able to focus. “Have met her. Elizabeth.” He gasped.
Zea leaned forward and whispered into his ears. When she pulled back, he was smiling. He stayed that way for several minutes. His eyes staring blankly at something past her.
If there was an afterlife for her kind, she would have said rest in peace. Instead she crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. It was the traditional way a vampire would rest in a coffin.
In the distance she could hear footsteps heading in her direction. She stood up and left Peter, her eyes burning with intent. There was something she needed to do before she could leave the bank.
***
“Zea, we have to go now!” shouted a dark skinned man with haunting golden eyes. The moonlight highlighting his chiseled face which matched his tall and built frame. He waited for a response from the agent, not sure if she heard him above the sound of the helicopter repellers.
Zea was staring out of the helicopter open doors, looking at the Barclay’s bank from above.
“Zea!” repeated the man.
“I heard you, Robert. I just want to see this first,” shouted Zea. In her hands was a remote. She pushed the red button.
A few seconds later, the bank exploded in multiple spots.
“Was it necessary?” asked Robert.
Zea shut the helicopter’s door and turned to Robert. “Someone told me Elizabeth should make her explosions bigger,” she said.
Robert shook his head. “We wasted time!” He turned to the pilot. “Go now. Fast!”
The pilot acknowledged and sped the helicopter away. Twenty minutes later, they landed in a secluded small airport. A running private jet was waiting for them.
They exited the helicopter.
“It was not easy getting this,” said Robert as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it up. He took a puff. “Elizabeth had to shuffle a lot of stocks and, possibly, threaten a billionaire’s son. This is sloppy. Very unlike you.”
Zea said nothing.
“There’s a dark room in there where no sunlight can touch you. Has a nice bed,” said Robert before he stopped.
Zea nodded. “You aren’t coming?” she asked.
“Elizabeth pulled me out of my mission to clean up your dumbass shit. I suggest you stay out of Europe for a while. They got your face all over the news and internet as a terrorist,” said Robert.
Zea’s jaw cracked. The EC had their hands in everything these days. “Make sure Peter’s will gets fulfilled,” she commanded.
Robert nodded. He flicked a piece of his cigarette off. “You mean destroy the vampire poison source. Now get the fuck out,” he said.
Zea eyebrows twitched before going up the stairs into the private jet. Once inside, the jet wasted no time. She felt it move.
In the back, was a room with a bed. She went there and flopped onto the bed, noting that her shotgun was strapped to the wall and regretted not taking it with her before she entered the bank. She had left with Peter in case he needed it. Like it mattered in the end. He was dead, and it was very much her fault.
The jet rumbled as she sped down the runway.
Vampire poison she knew only the EC had it. After all, she was the one that gave it to them after she found it in one of Hitler’s labs during World War II. Another distant voice in her past echoed, a woman with a Japanese accent:
It nearly killed you! Why are you giving it to them?
The popping in her ear and the sudden jolt signaled that the jet went into the air.
Zea turned over and stared at the jet’s ceiling. She touched her face, it was still burned. She recalled the many regrets and failures in her life. Compared to her successes, she wondered why anyone would think of her as anything other than a loser?
A buzzing had her reaching for her phone in her pocket. The call was encrypted but on the locked screen on her phone was the name “Elizabeth R.” She put the phone to her ear. “Yeah?” she answered.
“How are you feeling?” asked Elizabeth.
“Crap,” Zea replied.
“I read the reports. It was his choice,” said Elizabeth.
“I knew it was a trap. I should’ve just left it be and returned to the states. He would be alive right now.” Zea was silent for a moment. She took a breath. “If I hadn’t given the EC the poison formula--”
“You, like Peter, trusted them. They betrayed. Same damn story. Look, it wasn’t in the cards for you to save him. However, it wasn’t for nothing. We now know the EC is utilizing the poison and sharing it with the Sisters of Dawn coven. We just need to get a sample and destroy the source,” assured Elizabeth.
“You didn’t just call me to regurgitate Robert’s mission, did you?” said Zea.
Elizabeth sighed. “No. We actually have a problem.”
“Problem as in that damn scroll?” asked Zea, bitterly.
“Maybe. It’s being researched right now. I am calling you because we have an outsider problem. One of our suppliers told me an outsider vampire has been buying blood from him,” answered Elizabeth.
“What’s the problem?” asked Zea, annoyed. She would think they would have taken care of one punk vampire. “Is the vampire a First?”
Zea almost snarled saying that last word in her question. A First was a vampire that was not created from another vampire. They are regarded as the creme of the crop of vampire society. They were also incredibly dangerous and one of them nearly decimated her entire elite agents.
Elizabeth scoffed. “Like they will dare cross the ocean for us. This vampire is... better to see her for yourself. I am sending you a video. Put me on speaker.”
Zea pulled her phone from her ear and, putting her phone on speaker, played the video. It was a short clip of a black haired woman with an unusual swooped up bangs entering the blood bank through the front door. The woman was dressed casually in shorts and white t-shirt with the Golden Arches logo.
“And am I supposed to recognize her?” asked Zea. She was confused as she had never seen this vampire before in all of her life.
“Look at the time,” said Elizabeth.
In the corner of the video was a time of 12:45 pm. Afternoon. Zea was speechless. She replayed the video, zooming in at the door. No doubt sunlight had hit the vampire full on but that was not possible? She of all people should know. Unless? she thought.
“Many times she has bought from him. All in the afternoon and one time at night. Our supplier didn’t want to contact us until he could confirm. He even made her wait in the sun for two hours,” continued Elizabeth.
“A vampire that walks in daylight,” said Zea slowly even though she felt her heart thumping madly, but she maintained her composure. “Is she an EC?”
“No as far as we know. Anyways, I kept this away from others. Right now only you, me and that supplier knows,” said Elizabeth.
Zea narrowed her eyes. She got the drift. “You suspect we have a mole in our midst?” she asked.
“For some time. When you land, I want you to track Aric in the shadows but don’t strike. I want to see how deep this goes. I will personally keep an eye on our daylight walking vampire,” said Elizabeth.
“Of course. See you soon,” said Zea.
She hung up and tossed her phone somewhere on her bed. She tucked her hands behind her head before closing her eyes. With everything that had transpired, she couldn’t help but feel that it wasn’t a coincidence. Something was brewing.
Chapter 4 - Twilight's Gate