25

n the rolling forest east of Seattle, a modern building sat tucked away, concealed from the stretch of road that snaked over the land miles away. The building looked like a three-story hospital. No vehicles were seen outside, but this was expected. Charles’ layout pointed out the garage that also served as a loading bay, and as Charles had also noted, two guards were stationed outside, having started their shift at 1A.M. It was now fifteen minutes after 2 A.M., and the guards remained as vigilant as the first minutes at their boring post.
Down the single, paved road, leading away from the facility and the bright exterior lights, a rumbling began. The guards exchanged glances and looked toward the dark road. The rumbling grew louder, shifting in pitch the closer it drew. Two bright headlights turned on and flooded the guards’ view, but it was clear what came screaming towards them.
At the last second, the guards dove out of the way as a large semi-truck, minus the trailer, barreled past, crashing into the metal door of the loading bay. The vehicle came to a dead stop as it fell short of breaching the reinforced door. The guards, with weapons trained on the cab, inched closer to the driver’s side and found the seat empty.
Back down the road, where he had leapt from the cab, the driver held up a small remote. The corners of mouth curled into a grin as he uttered one word, “Bang.” His thumb pressed on the remote’s button.
The truck exploded. The eruption of fire engulfed everything around, lighting up the surrounding woods and the small army cued into action by the blast. The vampires ran toward the fire as it began to die down. The explosion had ripped into the building just as planned, and the first wave of the attack was underway.
Lori followed Arden into the smoldering debris. Behind her was Mikolas, the bold vampire who wanted to be the driver of their battering-ram, but was turned down by Lori.
Upon entering the main building, the group split into two teams; one to clean out the upper floors, while Lori and Arden led a team downstairs to the holding cells. As they came to the first level of cells, they were met with a team of Crifton officials. The faux soldiers opened fire, some using bullets while the others fired darts. Several of the darts struck their unlucky targets, dropping the vampires in a matter of seconds.
Mikolas heard the horror stories about this drug and switched into action. He raised his gun, chosen from the amassed pile at the haven, and began to fire, dropping the enemy faster than they could reload. The other vampires used Mikolas’ first shots to will themselves into action. Out of all the modern weapons gathered for this mission, Arden still used his knife.
The hall soon fell into silence. The vampires looked around for anyone else to kill. Mikolas bolted into action, once more, as he went over to the hall’s control panel and opened all the cell doors. Lori went to one of the fallen guards and removed the keys from his belt, then tossed them to Mikolas. One by one, they entered each cell and removed the prisoners’ restraints. At the end of the hall, with the last cell opened, Lori’s stomach knotted.
Okay, so he’s not on this floor. There are two more floors left of holding cells.
The newly released inmates followed the orders of their rescuers and ran upstairs and for the safety of the woods. The team then continued on to the next floor, and again they were met with more guards, this group flanked by men with rifles. Lori hung back as the vampires began clearing the way. Through the chaos, her eyes saw the faces of The Brotherhood guards—those stern, emotionless expressions. And then she saw him.
Owen Hartley.
Lori stepped from the doorway, eyes locked on Owen. Everything around her faded as all of her focus surrounded this man.
Owen lowered his rifle as he too spotted this ghost from his past. But this wasn’t the right place to confront her. Moving back, he ran past his men and into the stairwell. Lori ran after him, ignoring the firefight still going on.
Arden hurried before her and killed the remaining men with his knife. As Lori reached the stairwell, he grabbed her arm, pulling her back into the hall.
“Stick to the plan,” Lori ordered. “I have something I need to do on my own.”
“Not alone!”
“Yes, alone!” She stared at him, unable to hid her anger. “Stay up here with them. I’ll be alright. Go find Nick.” Lori felt his hand loosen, then release. “Thank you.”
Continuing on, she entered the stairwell and listened. The thumping of boots echoed, fading as Owen reached the bottom of the stairwell. She then heard the sound of a heavy door close. Lori retrieved the gun from her waist and readied the chamber as she hurried down the stairs.
On the lowest floor, the one set aside for executions and disposal, Lori walked cautiously along. So far each room was empty, not too surprising given the nature of the floor.
A metal rustling of a doorknob sent Lori into action, gun aimed high. A man stepped into the hall and fired. The dart struck the wall behind her. Lori fired her own gun, her bullet hitting its target. The man fell to the floor, blood pooling from the back of his head. Hurrying over to the door he exited from, Lori checked inside for any other workers. The sound of whimpering came to her sharp ears. Behind a steel table, two women cowered. They pleaded with her not to shoot. Lori lowered the gun for a moment. These two women weren’t to be pitied. How many had they killed in the name of their sciences?
Lori raised the gun, firing twice into each of their heads. It was her own order. Cleanse the place.
Back in the hall, she made her way to the end, a room she had feared to see once more. It was larger than the facility in Arizona, and the fire within the boiler seemed even hotter. But this was it—the place where The Brotherhood disposed of their “trash”.
An object on the floor drew her attention. As she went over to inspect the discarded handgun, she found its magazine missing. A trap.
From further in the boiler room, shots rang out. The bullets struck Lori in the hip and upper arm. She fell to the ground, yet managed to swing arm around, still holding her gun. Another shot rang. The bullet smashed into her hand and sent the gun across the floor and out of reach.
Owen stepped into the open and aimed his gun at her head.
“Talk about a coincidence,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s almost kismet, really. I’m transferred here three days ago, and now you show up. The Powers That Be must have answered my prayers.”
“I don’t belong to you,” hissed Lori. “I never belonged to you.”
“So vain. I never wanted you back for one last fuck. I wanted you back so I could kill you.”
Lori seethed at the smashed bones in her body as she fought to sit. “So why the change? The last time you pointed a gun at me, you wanted to shoot Jonas instead. Did Big Boss Man have a long talk with you about getting too close to your pets? And now, I bet you’re wanting to prove to him that you aren’t some mindless soldier, always thinking with that tiny morsel you call a dick.” She started to laugh.
Owen reaffirmed his grip on his gun. “We both know you enjoyed our time together. You were so eager to please me.”
“Did I have any other choice? I’d rather play nice to a total prick than face a permanent death. Come on, shoot!”
Owen relaxed his hand and lowered the gun. “I know now that won’t work.” He went for the knife sheathed on the outside of his boot. “But I know that removing the heart and head kills all.”
Lori moved fast, going for his wrists with her hands as she pulled him towards her and threw her head forward, smashing into his own head. She then brought knee up, burying it into his abdomen. The abrupt attack, though as violent as she could make it, wasn’t enough to stop him. Owen still struggled against her, fighting to aim the gun into her body. Lori gritted her teeth at the pain within her hand as she worked the gun away from him, and then with her good hand still holding onto his other wrist, she squeezed until his bones snapped. Owen let out a cry, mixed with cursing aimed at Lori.
The half-breed let him fall to the floor where she once sat. Emptying the gun, she tossed it across the room, followed by the knife. Lori grabbed him once more, holding him by the throat with her good hand. She checked him for anymore weapons. Finding him unarmed, she heard him begin to laugh.
“You win,” he said. “Kill me.”
“Now who’s vain?” she sneered. “You’re not mine to kill.”
“You’re going to let someone else have the satisfaction of killing me? After all of these years?” He began laughing again, a sound that annoyed Lori more than nails on a chalkboard.
She stared at him, waiting until his eyes returned to her. “You are going to be a gift to my husband.”
“Husband?”
Lori’s hand tightened around his throat. “Demetrius of Gysai.”
Owen’s heavy breathing subsided as his mind worked out what she was saying. As the theory, brought forth by her statement, was added with the facts, he felt his legs begin to buckle. It all made sense now—how she survived were normal dhampirs were so easily destroyed, and how her body reacted differently to the drugs, and no amount of mental conditioning seemed to work.
“You’re…” The name refused to leave him. He felt her hand relax as he fought to speak again. “Dianthia? That’s not possible. She was never real.”
“Believe what you wish.”
Owen’s jaw tightened. She wasn’t bluffing. The fate she was promising him—a gift to her husband—death would surely follow, but only after weeks or months of torture. “Go ahead,” he choked out, “kill me.”
“And where’s the fun in that? I would much rather see him deal with you. Far more entertaining for me.”
“Are you that pathetic that you can’t kill me yourself?”
“Wow. You’re trying to anger me. Why? Are you more afraid of him than me?” Lori pulled him closer. “He and I are of the same flesh, or as so marriage states. I am capable of the same painful delights as he.”
“Quit lying to yourself. You’re just a coward. You can’t kill me. You’ve grown too fond of me. Over these years, I’ve become your Holy Grail. You’ve planned for the day you would get your chance to kill me. Now that the moment has arrived, you can’t go through with it. Because when it’s over, you’ll have no other goal in life. How pathetic.” He continued laughing, again.
Lori dug her nails in deeper and sneered, her fangs answering her boiling anger as they made themselves known. “Don’t flatter yourself. In a thousand years from now, you’ll be just another footnote in my endless life.”
In a quick tug, she ripped her nails through his skin, his blood spilling fast. Stunned, Owen grabbed onto her as his strength left him. Lori followed him to the floor. She leaned in, whispering into his ear, “Consider this me showing you mercy.” Moving to his neck, she tasted the blood pulsating from him. It was untainted. Lori closed her mouth over the opened skin and drank in the clean blood.
In the top corner of the far wall, a camera picked up on the events below. The images, transmitted a thousand miles away to another office—the flagship of The Brotherhood, would be replayed before the eyes of the society’s creator.

On the floor above the boiler room, the last of the cells were being opened. Mikolas saw the guardian, Arden, head straight for a certain cell. Inside, the form of Nicholas lay, shackled and chained to the wall. Arden grabbed the heavy chains and pulled, ripping them free with one tug.
Mikolas entered the cell. “I have the keys, you know,” he said, giving them a jingle. He then went to the werewolf’s side and unlocked the collar and shackles. “Is this him? The one you all were after?”
Arden didn’t answer as he kneeled beside him, gathering the werewolf into his arms.
Nicholas’ eyes fluttered open and saw Arden’s blurry form come into focus. “It’s about time,” he said, voice raspy.
Shouting came from the hall, but this wasn’t the sounds of a fight, but rather arguing. Mikolas left Arden to investigate and found a crowd gathering by another cell. He pushed his way inside. Two vampires, both of them once prisoners, argued over another prisoner still shackled. But this prisoner was different from the others. He was human.
“What’s going on?” demanded Mikolas.
The vampire prisoner pointed at the human. “He’s with The Brotherhood!”
Someone else called out, “Then why was he locked up?”
“He was a prisoner for a reason,” Mikolas pointed out. He approached the frightened human. His ash blond hair was disheveled and his green eyes looked wildly about room. He looked sick with his pale skin and sunken in features.
The other vampire prisoner spoke out in his defense. “They used him to feed us.”
“What’s your name?” asked Mikolas.
The man’s eyes continued to moved about the room, taking in the new faces. “M-my name’s Christoff.”
“Why did they lock you up?”
“They labeled me a traitor.”
“Are you a traitor?”
Once again, he looked around, nervous. “Yes.”
“Good.” Mikolas turned to the others. “He is to live. Now hurry up! We have one more floor to clear.”
The crowd dispersed as they went for the stairwell. Mikolas finished unlocking Christoff’s restraints and guided him into the hall. Arden waited in the hallway with Nicholas’ arm over his shoulder, keeping the weak werewolf from collapsing.
Mikolas nodded at them. “Take this guy with you, and keep an eye on him.”
Slowly, Christoff shuffled off to follow the vampire and werewolf. Mikolas, however, wasn’t finished with his job. With a gun in one hand and keys in the other, he headed into the stairwell.

Lori sat beside the dead body of Owen, her eyes staring at nothing. It was finally over. She can live her life once more. No more hiding.
As she found herself lost in the absence of thought, she failed to hear the sound of the vampires entering the level and searching the rooms. A few more muffled shots rang out as other humans were discovered hiding, overlooked as Lori centered in on her prey. With the sound of ransacking growing louder, Lori’s body remained still. A hand gently rested on her shoulder, snapping her back in reality.
Lori looked up to see Mikolas.
“We’re ready,” he said.
Looking down at Owen’s wide-eyed stare, she gave the order. “Burn it.”
Mikolas opened the door to the hall and called out, “Time to light it up!”
The vampires entered the boiler room where the ransacking continued, and opened the large boiler. Lori felt the rush of heat, and with it, the rush of panic. She need to get out of there and into the coolness of the woods. As she entered the hall and walked toward the stairs, she found herself moving faster and faster until she broke into a full run. Passing through the fractured loading bay door, she stepped into the coolness of the night. She hurried a few strides more, then stopped and turned to face the facility. The fires on the top floors were already beginning, and the fires on the lower half would meet them in the middle.
With the final phase underway, the vampires started to flee, some carrying the ones who fell under the weight of H13. But the antidote was already in their possession, found on one of the top floors, though using it had to wait until they were a safe distance away.
Smoke began to pour from loading bay as well as the first flickering light of fire. Again, Lori felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Remember,” said Mikolas, “the window is a small one. The fire trucks will be here soon.” He took her hand. “The fire is a nice sight, but we need to go.”
Lori tore her eyes from the scene and followed Mikolas down the road. Other vampires ran alongside them to the waiting vehicles. Parked a mile down the road, the two tractor-trailers rumbled into life, including the waiting cars and vans. Lori climbed into the lead van with Mikolas and found Arden with Nicholas in the back. Another person sat with them, head down and arms wrapped tightly around his body.
“Who is he?” she asked as the door was closed behind her.
“A traitor to The Brotherhood,” replied Arden.
“Let me rephrase. Why is he here?”
Nicholas spoke up. “He was too weak to be left behind.”
“He might be useful,” added Mikolas.
The van lurched into motion as it sped down the road.
“For what?” Lori snapped back. “My dealings with The Brotherhood are over.”
“But for the world it isn’t,” Mikolas calmly pointed out.
Again, Nicholas spoke up, his words for Lori. “Thank you.”
Lori glanced at him. “I did this for her, too, you know. She’s really worried that something would go wrong.”
“But everything went off without a hitch,” Mikolas chimed in. “I was amazed at how accurate our info was.”
“We’re not finished, yet,” she said. “We still have the injured to tend to.” Glancing at the clock on the dash, she mentally counted their route. “We’ll need to stop somewhere before dawn, access the damage, then continue to the haven.”
“Speaking of injured…” He touched her arm. Lori flinched. “The bullet is still in there.”
“Of course it is,” she said sarcastically. “I’m like a bullet magnet.” She then held up her injured hand. “This is the lucky one, I guess.”
Mikolas took the hand into his, looking it over. “Already healing. Uh, that’s pretty fast.”
The ride back south was on an alternate route, this one heading southeast before entering the road that would take them back to Redding. A few hours before dawn, the caravan stopped along a remote area where they spent fifteen minutes to recuperate. Lori remained in the van during this time, while Mikolas removed the bullets from her body and bandaged fast healing wounds.
The whole time spent in the van, the human named Christoff remained quiet. His time to speak wasn’t now. And he really didn’t know when he should. But the information he carried, though assumed to be irrelevant to Lori, would send her back into another battle.