That appeared to be all Fowler wanted to say. I removed the phone from my father's ear.
“Make sure your helicopter stays where it is,” Fowler said. “Police officers are heading your way now as we speak… No doubt, we will talk again soon.” With that, he hung up.
I was surprised that he had not asked to speak to Derek about TSL’s taking over now that the IBSI was disbanded. I wondered if it was his ego delaying the conversation, the fact that he would need to eat humble pie. From what I understood, the last words Fowler had exchanged with Derek had been Fowler “firing” him. Plus, it was clear that TSL was already inclined to take up the role of the IBSI—it was hardly like we were waiting for their permission. So maybe he thought he could afford to drag it out longer.
The police aircraft arrived swiftly. It closed the distance between itself and our helicopter before men laid down a ramp to connect their aircraft to ours.
As two burly policemen crossed the ramp, Ben and Kailyn relinquished their hold on my father and pushed him toward the men, who grabbed him by the arms.
My father twisted around one last time to look at me. I wasn’t sure what I saw behind those cold blue eyes of his. It was hard to tell whether there was even a flicker of remorse—genuine remorse—behind them. He mostly seemed deeply dismayed.
I couldn’t bring myself to care what he thought anymore. He would be placed behind bars and then the nation’s judicial system would decide what fate lay in store for him. Perhaps he would be given the death sentence.
Whatever happened, as my father reached the police helicopter and the ramp drew away, the chapter of my life that he’d been a part of was closed.
Derek
After Atticus was taken away, we left the press aircraft and headed to the ground. We finished sweeping through the city along with the rest of our army, until I felt comfortable that we’d searched as thoroughly as we could to find any surviving humans. All those we’d found were transported by witches back to The Shade’s hospital.
Next, I set my eyes on the IBSI’s Chicago HQ in the distance. Although TSL still had not received an official transference of authority, Fowler had basically said as much. I was still waiting for his call—I knew it would come. He would have no choice but to speak to me, sooner or later.
For now, I headed with Ben, Sofia, Lawrence, Aiden, Ibrahim and twenty other witches to the IBSI’s compound. The army the IBSI had sent out to fight us had been so big, I doubted there would be many people left in the buildings, or at least none of the dangerous ones.
But even if there were fighters hanging on in there, they must’ve known what had been going on out here. They would’ve been monitoring the news, they would’ve seen the destruction. I didn’t expect much trouble storming the hallways.
The IBSI members we found in the buildings were helpful in navigating the place. We stormed inside, passing through room after room informing whatever men and women we came across that the IBSI was shutting down. Nobody had made any promises to me that TSL would inherit the IBSI’s buildings, but I didn’t care. I was going to claim them.
We informed those left of their choice—leave here forever and find another job, or join forces with TSL. Most we came across opted for the latter, again demonstrating Jennifer Thornton’s suspicion regarding many of the IBSI members to be correct. Most were loyal to power, whoever held it. And to whatever entity would keep themselves and their families safe.
Once we had scoured the base, essentially marking it as ours, we returned to the entrance of the compound.
I left Aiden in charge along with Ibrahim and ten other witches. I needed Aiden and Ibrahim to start making the facilities suitable for TSL’s purposes, and induct our newly joined recruits into TSL’s way of thinking and behaving. That might take a while for them to get used to, given the years of brainwashing they must’ve received in the form of training under Atticus’s organization.
As for the rest of us, we headed back to the city. I climbed atop Neros, who barked out orders on my behalf for our entire army to gather, something that took a while. Many of the werewolves and ogres had wandered far off in their search for stray humans (or Bloodless). But eventually, everyone had gathered.
I started by congratulating them on completing our first milestone successfully. Then I explained the second stage of our plan.
Our next stop had to be New York and Los Angeles. We could not travel there one at a time; we had to hit the two at once because we couldn’t afford to waste any more time.
I split the army roughly in half, except for the dragons. Those I would send to New York, given their reluctance to travel by magic.
Lawrence and Ben headed one group, bound for New York, while Sofia and I headed the other, bound for Los Angeles.
The dragons shouldn’t be required anyway, except as a convenient means of flying. I didn’t see the remaining stragglers of the IBSI as a threat anymore. Currently our main priority was to deal with the Bloodless streaming through residential areas, work on curing them with the large batches of antidote Dr. Finnegan had managed to create, and save the humans who had not yet been touched.
I was thankful that the IBSI had not pulled down more walls, though I reminded myself that there were still many IBSI leaders running rampant. They would be seething mad. I expected out of spite they would pull down more walls before our job was done, and if they did, so be it.
We just had to be as fast as we possibly could. We had to work for as many days or weeks as it took to infiltrate every single IBSI base in America and take it over. Fix what was broken, convert the hunters to TSL’s side, and install leaders there who could begin training the men and women, and managing the operations.
And so began our journey.
When we arrived in Los Angeles, the city was in hardly any better state than Chicago. The Bloodless were running amok. It took us a full day to regain some semblance of order, all the while keeping in regular contact with Ben and Lawrence to check their progress in New York. By the sounds of it, New York had been an even worse mess. But once both cities had been re-organized, management put into place, and a deadline set for when they would aim to cure the last of the Bloodless that had been roaming the city, we moved on to other areas. And in doing so, we had to split our army up further for the sake of speed. It was a good thing I had gathered up such a large one. We needed as much manpower as we could possibly get. And equally as fortunate was the fact that Dr. Finnegan, with the help of a team of witches, had managed to mass-produce the antidote.
At least, the more cities we visited, the more IBSI members we gathered to help us. They proved to be invaluable since they knew the facilities inside out. We also trained them in administering the cure, which sped up the process further.
All the while, we were followed by the press. We encouraged them to film and snap pictures as much as they wanted. Let the world witness how we were curing the Bloodless, rather than slaughtering them… or deliberately creating more of them. There would be no secrets behind TSL’s doors.
By the time I’d finished touring the states, spending as much time as I thought necessary in each area, overseeing and providing guidance to the managers we had appointed, almost a month had passed. Almost a month of practically no sleep, and very little nutrition. I wouldn’t have been able to do it if I was a human. Even as a vampire, it was starting to take its toll. Sofia had remained traveling with me, and she was just as exhausted as I was. I had hardly seen my son, daughter, or the rest of our family and friends, because we were mostly scattered in different parts of the nation, each with our own responsibilities to fulfill.
Over the weeks, I did speak to several government officials (though still not Fowler). They informed the former employees of the IBSI that TSL was officially replacing them, and if they wanted to keep their jobs, they’d need to join us.
Finally, I felt that we had made enough headway to allow ourselves to withdraw at least for a few days—head back to The Shade to recuperate before returni
ng and resuming our management duties.
As for Atticus, he’d come down to Earth with a crash. No longer an “untouchable”, according to the news we heard during our travels, he’d been sentenced to a lifetime in jail. He should have been sentenced to death, but the authorities took into account the “service” he had performed over the years for the states and decided it was only right not to execute him. As twisted as he might have been, he had maintained some semblance of order in the country for the past couple of decades.
Something told me, however, that Atticus would have preferred the death sentence. I wasn’t sure what his purpose was for living anymore. He should probably avoid reading the papers or watching the news; it would drive him insane watching the “troublemakers” take over his empire. I would have liked to have watched him go through a more… physically painful punishment. But ultimately, I didn’t care as long as I never had to see him again, and he never got another opportunity to cause trouble.
Sofia and I made one last round of the largest IBSI bases, where we gathered up our family and core TSL group. It was a relief to see everyone together again. I wasn’t used to spending so much time apart.
Every bone and muscle in my body ached. I wanted nothing more than for Sofia and me to lock ourselves in our penthouse, collapse into bed and sleep.
Some dragons said that they would also return to our island for a break, and as for the rest of the supernaturals, provisions were made for them around the cities themselves, set aside from the humans. We had been sure to station ample witches in each place to keep an eye on the ogres—and assist with the general proceedings. However, I had to admit that the ogres were doing a commendable job. We truly were proving Atticus wrong in every single respect of his declaration that supernaturals were incapable of taking responsibility and becoming guardians to Earth. His convoluted idea that the IBSI was the only way to bring about peace again in the world.
So far, our focus had been primarily on the Bloodless; we hadn’t even started to hunt down the other kinds of troublemaking supernaturals. That would be our next step. On paper, the supernaturals we’d brought down had no responsibility for the Bloodless; the Bloodless weren’t members of the supernaturals’ own species. Yet they were working to help us get a handle on them. I was sure when the time came they would do a diligent job of keeping their own kind in check, too.
We made Chicago our final port of call, where we prepared to finally leave for The Shade. But as we gathered together outside the former IBSI, now TSL HQ, a crowd of press reporters approached. Their eyes were trained on me specifically as I faced them.
“Sir, would you mind answering a few questions?” a thin woman with a short bob of blonde hair asked, clutching a mic in her hands. Miss Porter, according to her badge.
I let out a sigh. “Go ahead.”
“Do you have a timeline for the Bloodless treatment?” she asked, moving the microphone beneath my chin. I clasped it and cleared my throat.
“As yet, I am uncomfortable about giving a timeframe. But rest assured that we have men and women working around the clock to administer it as fast as possible, in as many places as we can. We will also be introducing training programs to members of the public who wish to volunteer to help us speed up the process.”
“Many are expressing concerns about your supernatural workforce. How can we trust they won’t turn on us?” a male reporter asked.
“They will earn your trust,” I told him firmly. “You cannot paint all supernaturals with the same brush. Just as you cannot with humans.”
Dozens more questions were thrown my way regarding our methods and plans, until finally I had to put a stop to it and call for two last questions. My group was exhausted and it wasn’t fair to hold them up like this. We could hold a large press conference in a few days’ time.
“Where do you plan to go now, Mr. Novak?”
“Home, for a few days of rest.”
“Will The Shade remain your home, even with your newly appointed duties?” the blonde-haired woman asked.
At this, I couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, Miss Porter. No matter how far away my duties take me, or for how long, The Shade will always remain my home.”
Grace
The last month had been a mixture of awe, relief, and excitement for me, as I witnessed from afar, via the news and frequent updates from my father, what TSL and their massive new army had been doing.
And Lawrence. My heart swelled with pride for him, the way he had thrown his life on the line to bring down his father’s corrupt reign. My eyes filled with tears as I imagined how proud his mother would’ve been if only she had still been alive. He’d made sure that she had not died in vain. He had taken up her beacon and carried it the final all-important stretch. The world would never be the same again because of what he and all of our people had accomplished.
I wished that I could be there alongside them, but since I couldn’t, once I was allowed out of the hospital, I spent as much time assisting Dr. Finnegan and her team in mass-producing the antidote as I could.
When I wasn’t helping her, I was usually with Orlando and Maura, my mother, Aunts Lalia and Dafne, Grandma Nadia, and Field—glued to the news. My cousins Hazel and Benedict also joined us often—Benedict was making an extra effort to not be annoying to me. (He was actually showing a lot of concern for my recovery, which I found cute.)
Things had been a hundred times less awkward between Orlando and me since he had rediscovered his sister. She had filled a gap in his life, taking the pressure off me. I still caught him gazing at me in a way that I wished he wouldn’t from time to time—I supposed he couldn’t help himself—but he was happy now. He was genuinely happy.
As was Maura. She had been in a much worse state than I had been after returning to her human form. The recovery had been much slower and more painful because she had been a monster for longer than I had. But she was making steady progress.
I hadn’t exactly known Maura long before she’d gotten separated from Orlando and me in Bloodless Chicago and turned into one of them. Even during the short period we’d spent together, I couldn’t exactly say that we had gotten on like a house on fire—she would have turned me over to the IBSI at one point if it hadn’t been for Orlando persuading her otherwise. But since she had been cured, it felt like we had started a new chapter. We got to know each other afresh, without the strains that dystopian Chicago had laid upon us. She was much more relaxed, no longer snappy or moody as she had been. More than anything, she was just filled with relief and gratitude that she had been saved.
I could relate to that feeling. As for my own recovery, my hair was slowly growing back, I had put on weight, and my nails were also developing and strengthening. Although I was kept on a strict diet and medication routine to ensure that I healed as fast and thoroughly as possible, two weeks after TSL left the island I was allowed to go home with my mother. This was thrilling to me.
Orlando chose to stay in the hospital with Maura, since she still had some way to go. Field and the other boys were housed in a spare mountain cabin. They expressed their desire to stay together, and so we put them up in one of the five-bedroom homes.
Field ended up spending a lot of time with my mother and me at home, allowing us to discover more about his personality—something that appeared to be almost as much of a discovery process for him as it was for us. All he’d ever really known was struggle. He’d never had much time for recreation, discovering likes and dislikes. He’d lived each day in survival mode, doing anything and everything he could to survive.
Although we were often going in different directions during the day, we made a point to always meet for mealtimes. Field sometimes brought along his brothers to join us.
Victoria and Bastien also returned with Mona and Brock, which was a treat. I spent some quality time with Victoria, catching up on the crazy adventure she’d been through, causing my mouth to hang open. I could hardly believe that she was married now. Married! And to Bastien. We
had hardly seen each other recently and her returning with this news seemed so sudden. Apparently she had already told her parents about it.
I didn’t see a lot of her after our initial catchup; I guessed that she was busying herself with Bastien. Starting a new life with someone was no light matter.
When my father called one evening and finally told us of their plans to return, I could hardly contain my excitement. I missed everybody so much, especially Lawrence. It felt like an eternity since I’d last seen them. So much had happened. So much had changed.
They were due to return the next evening, and that night after the call ended, I could hardly sleep. The next morning, the only thing on my mind was their arrival, and I found myself leaving Dr. Finnegan’s side late that afternoon to begin preparing myself for their return.
I was holding out hope that they might even arrive earlier and I wanted to be waiting at the Port when they did. After taking a quick shower, I found myself in my bedroom, gazing at myself in the mirror and examining the progress my body had made. My hair was short and spiky, a look that I disliked, to say the least. Short hair didn’t suit me in general, and definitely not this short. One of the jinn had created a wig for me that looked incredibly realistic, but most days, I hadn’t bothered to wear it. Now, however, at the thought of seeing Lawrence again, I experienced a bout of self-consciousness. I decided to put the wig on before applying some light makeup to make me look healthier and give myself a boost of confidence.