Justice.
Neither Betta nor I knew the identity of all the men who raped Bryn, but she was certain, however, that Gus and Will were the ones who stole Bryn’s virginity. The only other name supplied by Betta was that of Jack Jeffers, someone who was next on my list. Of course, I knew Luce was the ultimate orchestrator, the puppet master himself. It only seemed fitting that he would be my last victim.
Approaching Will, I deftly wrapped my hands around his neck before snapping it as easily as if it were a dried twig. He dropped in a heap on the ground. Pulling out a handkerchief from my breast pocket, I wiped the blood from my face and then smoothed the creases from my shirtfront as I faced the front door and pondered my next move.
Two down and two more to go.
SIX
The power of persuasion was among one of my more impressive skills. There were, however, also some very simple things I could do to aid my abilities. While dressing in the clothing of one of the plonkers (read: idiots) I had just killed might not sound like a large feat, it allowed me to better convince anyone I came across that I was one of their own.
The blue track trousers were an ankle too short and the matching blue shirt too tight in the biceps for my comfort, but both would have to do. If the very real chance that I came across someone eventuated, I wanted to look the part. While my identity would certainly be questioned up close, from far away I had the advantage. Especially with the darkness of the night on my side. When it came to meeting up-close and personal, my powers of persuasion would aid me. Nonetheless, I despised the fact that part of my plan was predicated on wearing anything from one of the dimwits I had come to kill. The clothing smelled of him. It stunk.
According to Betta, Jack Jeffers was a citizen who preferred to train during the evenings, so he slept during the day. This was not a surprise because Jack was a Daywalker. They evolved (or devolved as the case may be) from vampires who, of course, preferred the evening hours. Betta taught me that although Daywalkers did not perish if exposed to the daylight, they nonetheless still favored the darkness.
As I made my way across A Street, heading for C Street, I could feel the blood pumping through my veins. My excitement heightened, and I became thrilled by the chase, anxious to see justice dealt where it was sorely due.
“Soldier.” I heard the scratchy voice coming from behind me. In response, I immediately spun around, smiling and bringing my hands up into the air to show I was not armed.
“Evening,” I said in a calm, easy tone of voice.
The man was a Daywalker; I could tell by the dearth of magic surrounding his person. He had no electric force field, nothing that would hint to otherworldly or magical abilities. He was dressed in black, no doubt, to blend in with the night, given that he was a guard. He was also heavily armed, carrying a rifle and hoisting a large pack that he slung over his shoulders.
Once our eyes met, I had him. I widened mine and stared into the deep recesses of his, testing his strength and power. Quite like dogs sniffing one another’s bums, vampires can learn much just by looking into another’s eyes. And Daywalkers proved to be no different. By studying his eyes, I could decipher his power, his age and his health. No male Daywalkers ever lived long enough to see their twenty-first birthday, so it was safe to assume that this one was young. I did not have to read that in his eyes to know as much. But his eyes told the truth all the same. Being as young as he was meant he was also inexperienced. His superhuman strength was just budding, still in its infancy, and I had no doubts he would be very gifted where physical combat was concerned. Despite his expert training, he did not threaten me.
Tell me where I can find Jack Jeffers, I asked him in my silent thoughts.
“He’s supposed to be training,” he started before appearing as if he had some misgivings about offering any other information. Unluckily for him, however, if I wanted information from him, I would damn well get it.
But he is not training, so where is he? I demanded.
“He’s visiting the Breeders,” the young Daywalker responded, sounding and acting suddenly nervous.
The term “Breeders” immediately ignited an indignant flame that lit up inside me before I managed to force it back down. When the Lady Bryn was mercilessly held captive here, she had been assigned to the class of the Breeders. That particular group of females, according to Betta, was basically deemed useless except where procreation was concerned.
Where are the Breeders located?
“You can take a shortcut through those two buildings to get to B Street,” the young man started. He turned around to indicate the two buildings in question, which stood directly in front of us. “When you get to E Street, make a left; the Breeders are in the house at the end of the street.”
Very good, I answered with a quick nod. I tightened the hold I had on him through our locked gazes. You will forget our interaction and go back to your patrol as if you never saw me, I ordered, opting to spare the young man’s life, mostly because I did not want to sully my disguise with his blood.
The man did not say anything more and I did not wait for him. Instead, I started up the small incline of the hill directly before me, being careful to stick to the side of the wall on my right, lest anyone see me. The path was clear, so I continued forward until I reached the unpaved road, where I turned left. At the end of the street was a two-story building that easily dwarfed the rest of the “homes” along the street. There were a few lights glowing in the numerous windows that shone onto the road. How ironic, I thought. Not only was the residence of the Breeders akin to a brothel, but it also looked the part.
I glanced around before tuning my expert sense of hearing to detect any footsteps or breathing in the vicinity around me. When I could see and hear no one, I darted forward, seeking shelter from the shadows along the wall created by the angle of the moonlight against the roofline. There were no windows along that particular wall, but I did not require them. I held my ear against the wall and listened for the familiar sounds of frolicking that might suggest some carnal activities taking place in the rooms inside.
I could hear nothing, which led me to conclude that either the occupant on the other side of the wall was asleep, or I was not adjacent to a bedroom. No matter. Closing my eyes and summoning my strength, I began to levitate, feeling my feet lifting into the air as the rest of my body grew weightless. When I reached the second story of the box-shaped building, I stopped my upward motion and held my ear again to the wall. This time, I could hear grunting and heavy breathing. I sincerely hoped the animal sounds emerging from behind the wall belonged to Jack Jeffers, as I was not in any mood for a hunt.
I scaled the wall, using my hands to guide me as my body floated. When I reached the front of the building, I glanced down to ensure there were no soldiers below who might spot me. Thankfully, there were none.
I floated around the corner of the building before I found myself in front of a window. The room on the other side was dark, but I knew this was the room from which the sounds of carnal activities had come … and, as I listened now, I could still hear them.
The moon overhead was shrouded by quickly moving clouds. As soon as the clouds broke free, the milky rays threw themselves into the window, lighting up the room. As I glanced through the window, I watched as the woman on the bed, who was underneath the man, looked right at me. I immediately widened my eyes as soon as I captured hers.
You will disable the wards protecting the room, I commanded her.
She did not respond, but by the fact that she held my gaze for as long as she did, it was safe to assume that she was under my influence. I placed my palms on the pane of glass and pushed upward. I was slightly surprised when the window slid right open, as I had assumed it might be locked. The opening was large enough to allow me fairly easily to slide my lower half in as my upper body followed.
When I stepped foot into the room, I was pleased to find that I did not burst into flames. It was good to possess the power of persuasion …
/> The woman on the bed was now staring at the ceiling while the man continued to bounce atop her, not in the least bit aware of his guest.
“Ahem,” I uttered once it became fairly obvious that my entrance was going to continue to go unnoticed.
The man lying on top of the woman immediately stopped thrusting inside her. He rolled off her in record time, gripping the bedsheet and using it to cover him up to his chin. When he faced me, he was understandably angry.
“What the hell?” he started, narrowing his eyes on me as his suspicion grew evident. He was a Daywalker, for he had no magical aura. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded.
I took a few steps toward them. Because I broke eye contact with the woman, she was no longer under my spell. She pulled herself to the top of the bed and hid beneath the comforter to cover herself. She did not say anything either, but neither did she look overly concerned at my untimely interruption. Of course, after glimpsing the brute’s less than attractive visage, I was almost certain she was more than grateful for the intrusion. It was probably more appropriate to say she even hoped I might be her next partner.
“I am looking for Jack Jeffers,” I announced while taking another step closer to the man. I opened my eyes wide when I stared into his. There was obvious power there. Much more so than in the eyes of the soldier I encountered outside.
“You found him,” he responded as he continued to scrutinize me.
The bitter realization that this bastard was one who had abused Bryn, ruthlessly forcing himself on her, filled me with the same fiery heat that formerly threatened to overtake me. The rage inside me grew in its vastness. He was so large, easily outweighing her by more than double, and the thought of him hurting her so cruelly made my hands tremble with anticipation. I planned to rip him into pieces. I felt my fists curling at my sides and forced myself to release them. I had to calm down. Anger was simply another emotion; as such, it served no use or advantage to me. I had to control my inner gladiator; I had to be stronger than my instincts and the irresistible urge to kill.
Jack’s eyes locked onto mine as he began fighting the power I planned to ensnare him in. This one would prove more difficult than I could have hoped for.
I faced the woman next. “I respectfully suggest you stand up and kindly take a seat in that chair over there,” I said, motioning to the chair beside the bed. I immediately detected the stream of magic flowing from her and the sensation was strong. “And you would do well not to interfere,” I warned her before staring into her eyes. She immediately nodded, the only sign I needed to know that she was helplessly under my spell.
She stood up and padded over to the chair before sitting down and facing forward, just like an obedient lapdog. I turned my attention back to Jack and found him studying me. Having broken eye contact with him, my power over his mind could now be threatened.
Where were we? I began, while concentrating my control fully onto his eyes, sending my telepathic waves of persuasion in order to command his mind.
“Who are you?” he demanded in a softer tone, saying the words much more slowly.
You can consider me the dark angel of retribution, I replied, struggling in my quest to continue to manipulate his mind. He was certainly stronger than any Daywalker I had ever come across before. Betta mentioned as much to me, saying he was the only Daywalker who managed to live beyond his twenty-first birthday. I could only assume this was a source of his remarkable power, which he possessed in spades.
“Retribution?” he repeated defiantly. His voice was beginning to slur as I channeled my power into him. The woman in the chair continued to sit there idly, staring straight ahead as though she were in a trance. Given the incessant flow of her magic, I was mildly surprised her mind was so malleable.
I am here to avenge the Lady Bryn, I announced. As my jaw tightened, I reminded myself to calm down again. The intensity of my anger surprised even me. I readily admit my affection for the queen’s sister, but the vitriol, which continued billowing inside me, gave me more than enough reason for reflection. I had not endured an anger this deep in a very long time.
“The Lady Bryn?” the bastard scoffed as he shook his head. “There’s nothing to avenge!”
Abandoning all control of myself, I sailed across the room and gripped him by his throat, lifting him off the bed. The ire inside me began pumping through my veins. It took charge of me and its hold was powerful. “Nothing to avenge?” I seethed.
He shook his head. “I didn’t do anything with her!”
I narrowed my eyes on him as my fangs lengthened of their own accord. I released him and he dropped back onto the bed, scrambling in his effort to cover himself. Shaking his head, he appeared to be waking up from a heavy sleep. As soon as he looked at me, I recaptured his eyes with mine and forced my raw power back into him.
Explain, I demanded.
“I was ordered to go to her,” he started as he began rubbing his throat. “And I did go to her, but when I tried to take her, she burned me!”
Burned you? I repeated, my unbridled anger slowly turning to surprise before developing into outright curiosity.
“Yeah,” he nodded. He continued to rub his throat while shaking his head in a way that revealed he was just as shocked by his words as I was.
“How did she burn you?” I inquired.
“It was weird,” he started, while taking a deep breath. I fought to maintain my hold on his mind. With all the questions running through my own head, it was difficult for me to consider his.
What happened? I demanded.
“Her skin got really hot before she just erupted into flames! Right there in front of me! But it didn’t look like the fire was hurting or burning her. It was more like it was a part of her.”
I nodded, all the while wondering what the Lady Bryn could possibly be hiding from me.
SEVEN
I did not know quite what to make of Jack Jeffers’s story regarding the Lady Bryn bursting into flames in an attempt to defend herself from him. Even though I was not certain what this meant, nor even how it was possible, I did not doubt his story. A Master Vampire’s powers of persuasion will not allow the victim in question to lie. Thus, whatever Jack Jeffers told me was what he actually believed to be true. Whether it actually was true remained to be seen.
Of course, I was relieved to know he did not force himself on the Lady Bryn. But I would have been foolish to believe that nothing of a physical nature ever arose between the two of them. I knew what sort of a man Jeffers was. The self-impressed and arrogant type. The kind of man who could not tolerate the Lady Bryn’s independence, much less her barbed tongue. Despite the knowledge that he had not forced himself on her, he still intended to commit that act, which meant he was guilty in my eyes.
You said you did not have intercourse with the Lady Bryn. Did you hurt her in any other way? I demanded, keen to hear the extent of his crimes.
“Yes,” he answered with a brief nod. My insides churned and the blood inside my veins suddenly burned like fire.
Explain, I commanded between my clenched teeth, my fangs fully emerged.
He continued to stare forward, unblinkingly. “I punched her in the stomach and when she doubled over in pain, I squeezed my hand around her throat so she couldn’t breathe.”
As I pictured the grim details, a newfound anger seized me from deep inside. It was all I could do to stop myself from destroying Jeffers right then and there. But ending his life prematurely would not avail me, and I still needed him. I had to glean all the information he could provide regarding Bryn’s unusual … gift. Once aroused, my anger does not recede so readily. I had to calm myself by shaking my arms out violently as I counted to ten in my head, and more than once. This was a tedious task as I was not accustomed to losing my temper, thus I had forgotten how to regain it. I extended each one of my fingers out and mentally commanded myself to remain unruffled.
You hit her, I accused him, and a shudder raced down my back, which I deftly shook away. I
would get my revenge soon enough.
Jeffers nodded, but his expression failed to reveal any remorse or regret. Not that I believed he possessed any. If anything, he would only regret the fact that he had not embedded himself inside her. “That was right before she caught fire and burned me.”
Were the flames real? I inquired as I studied him pointedly, growing ever more eager to learn all the information he could tell me. It did not surprise me that the Lady Bryn had not entrusted me with this information. Being a private and suspicious person, I suppose it was wise that she dare not safeguard such personal information to anyone. I now wondered if Betta had any inkling about it. My initial guess was she did not.
“Of course they were real! My shirt caught on fire,” Jack exclaimed while nodding his head a few times in quick repetition.
And then what happened?
“I put the flames out in the sink before I got the hell out of there.”
Tell me then, was that the extent of your interaction with her to date? You did not attempt to see her on another occasion?
“No,” he answered immediately. “I told Luce everything that happened …”
What was his response?
“He called her a witch. And said it was just another example of black magic and her treachery and betrayal to our own kind.”
And what happened then?
Jeffers shrugged and his expression went unexpectedly blank, as if my question threw him for a loop. “Well, nothing happened then,” he responded, looking like a deer caught in headlights. “Bryn disappeared after that and no one ever saw her again.”
I had no idea that Betta and the lady’s escape occurred so soon after her run-in with Jeffers. However, it pleased me to learn he never had another chance to hurt her.
As this revelation raced through my mind, I suddenly realized I was losing control of Jeffers. I failed to retain my grip on him. His uniquely advanced age rendered my control over him tenuous at best, placing a strain on me despite my efforts to maintain my grasp. The time for justice was now upon him, as I had no further use for his knowledge or confessions. I had learned all I could from him.