Fratelli: Eternal Bloodlines (The Vampire Cartel #2)

35. The Goddess and Consiglieri

Chapter 35

The Goddess and Consiglieri

B ellagio, Nevada

April 18, 2018

(3 Days Before Death)

The trunk of the car opened. Sonya was unceremoniously hauled out. Her head spun from the reckless drag race that Phoenix, the vampire consiglieri, had subjected her to along the Vegas strip. It wasn’t their attempts to intimidate her that caused her dizziness, but the magical cuffs clamped around her wrists, which muted her powers. Since they had taken her from the Pink Pussy, she had repeatedly tried to reach out to her sister Liora, but all she encountered was darkness.

“Time for your debut, Your Highness,” Phoenix's smirk curved the left side of his mouth, revealing his fang that gleamed in the dim light.

Out of all the vampires, Phoenix was the only one she remembered. Almost as old as Vittorio, he was, in her opinion, the deadliest. She eased herself out of the trunk, her movements sluggish and disoriented. Neither Phoenix nor Raven, his equally sinister counterpart, offered her any assistance. Yet she could sense their barely contained desire to do much more. If either of them touched her, she’d do her best to drag them into her power and destroy them.

Phoenix draped a cloak around her shoulders. He pulled the hood up to cover her head, face and hair. With her cuffed hands hidden beneath the cloak, he gave her a gentle yet firm push toward the elevators. Sonya looked around. She noticed they were in a parking garage. It was eerily dark; all the electricity was out.

“Is this for me?” she asked, her voice dripped with sarcasm.

“No, Your Highness, it’s an outage. In the city,” Phoenix remarked.

“Strange,” Raven commented, his eyes narrowed on the dark shadows near the parked cars. “Smells supernatural.”

They bypassed the elevators and headed for the stairs. Raven opened the door, and she was nudged to descend instead of ascend. Sonya tried once more to reach out to Charmaine, to make a connection, but nothing worked.

“Where are you taking me?” Sonya asked, her voice echoing through the stairwell.

Phoenix did not respond. They went down five flights of stairs before reaching a door. The keypad was blank, powerless. Phoenix blasted the steel door open with minimal effort, and Sonya recoiled, enraged at his display of power. She felt utterly helpless.

Tristan made his way down the final stairwell, arriving at the door on the opposite side of the hall. When he entered, he was greeted by blinding light, a stark contrast to the complete darkness of the stairwell because of the electrical outage.

Downstairs, the vaults operated on a different power system. Security was tight; both vampires and humans patrolled the halls. As Tristan entered, everyone instinctively parted for him. He knew exactly where to go, taking an elevator down to the belly of the beast.

At the bottom level, he encountered Phoenix and Raven. Under the cover of a cloak was a woman, her face partially visible, cast in shadows by the large hood. Tristan wondered which guardian she was.

“What the fuck is going on? What caused the outage?” Phoenix asked in his demanding tone.

“Dolly Brown escaped. The guardian or the Brown descendant took out the power. I tried to stop them both, and…” Phoenix’s voice trailed off as Tristan’s gaze locked onto the woman under the cloak. “I failed.”

“Why are you just telling me this now?” Phoenix snapped. “We spoke!”

Tristan stood his ground. “It happened fast. I engaged them. The guardian struck back in the lobby and injured me. She was powerful. I had just recovered when you arrived.”

Phoenix’s eyes narrowed, calculating the truth from deceit. He glanced back at Sonya, then at Tristan. The tension between them crackled in the air.

“ Va bene . You take her,” Phoenix ordered. He thrust Sonya toward Tristan. “I need to handle the situation above ground.”

“What? I don’t want her! The guardians are dangerous. Did you not here what I said?” Tristan asked.

“It’s an order!” Phoenix commanded.

“What is happening above ground?” asked Tristan.

“The brothers have arrived. Lucio is being judged,” Phoenix said in the most casual of tones.

The news rocked Tristan to his core. Several times Tristan had reached out for Lucio’s counsel, only to be pushed away. Had it really come to this? How could Don Vittorio sit back and let one of his sons die? Not even his ravaged Alzheimer’s state of mind should allow it.

“I must stand with him. I must! Lo difenderò con la mia vita! ” Tristan stepped forward, an act of defiance he had never committed when it came to Phoenix.

“You must stand down,” Phoenix said, stepping forward. “His judgment is not one you can defend. You are consiglieri. No matter the outcome, you belong to the Draca, not to Lucio.”

“I served him! Him alone! Kill me. Because you won’t stop me!” Tristan countered.

Before Phoenix could react, the serpent king Draca, who now ate away at what was left of Don Vittorio’s black soul because of Julia Brown’s curse, roared in the vampire consiglieri’s head the word: “NEVER!”

The dark energy crackled in the air, nearly bringing all three vampires to their knees. Sonya stepped back. She frowned in the face of the oppressive force. The lights in the hall blinked on and off.

Tristan roared back in defiance, as if in pain. The mere thought of his master’s death shattered something human within him. He bulged with rage, and Sonya stepped further back, recognizing the threat. Phoenix looked up as Tristan charged him and Raven. The three vampire consiglieres engaged in a maelstrom of violence. A quick and losing battle for one consiglieri against two, especially against the oldest consiglieri, Phoenix.

Phoenix threw Raven out of the fight and the vampire crashed into the elevator. Tristan was grabbed and slammed down on the ground. Phoenix snarled, his warrior position indefensible. He was older than all of them, even older than Kaida. Phoenix was an ex-slave, gladiator, servant of the Senate, created by the counsel of vampires and Draquria himself.

None of them could stop him, not even the Fratelli. Kaida knew this history. It was her sister in the darkness, Aries, who had fallen in love with Phoenix. Her sister could not resist the unnatural urge to mate with a disciple of the Draquria and was sacrificed by that love. The real catalyst of the war. Until that moment, Kaida and Liora had never known the vampire by name. They thought it was one like Vittorio, who was part of the coven of the senate. But it was not. It was a servant, a simple servant, just like them. The history surfaced in Sonya’s mind when she absorbed the dark energy from the fighting consiglieri.

It was a shared connection that Phoenix recognized. His dark gaze lifted from Tristan and latched onto her.

“It is true. I loved Aries. But I am of darkness and love did not serve my duty to the Draca.” He gave her a smirk.

The cuffs tightened on Sonya’s wrists, and with just a look from Phoenix, more of her power was drained through the strange magical restraints. Sonya was brought to her knees, unable to defend the dark energy in her or speak for Aries, lost to her for over thousands of years. Only the Phoenix had risen to the top of the ranking from the ashes of his dastardly deeds and reigned supreme as consiglieri over them all.

He then lowered his gaze to Tristan, and his voice was straight from the Draca. “You are nothing but a servant, dust beneath my feet. I have tried with you, priest, to teach and discipline, but if you ever raise a thought, let alone a fang of defiance to me again, I will shred you.”

Tristan stopped fighting and glared up at him.

“I gave you a command. You will obey. Lucio’s condemnation is from the Fratelli. You can save no one. Not even yourself. Capisci ?” asked Phoenix.

Raven stared at them from his position on the floor. He barely sat up from the blow Phoenix delivered. He watched in terror. None of them ever defied Phoenix’s orders.

Tristan blinked his compliance.

“Take her. Watch her. Wait for my orders. That is what you will do,” Phoenix commanded.

Tristan nodded; his expression unreadable. Phoenix stood. He offered a hand to Tristan and helped him stand. Raven stood as well. He saw that Phoenix was reasonable enough not to object.

“What about her restraints? Is there something I need to know?” Tristan asked, remembering how Charmaine in his arms enslaved him. He would never want to feel that with any other guardian but his sweet Liora. The bruising around his neck healed.

“Here,” Phoenix gave him a tiny wand of a key. “Possessing it will keep her in line. Return her to our people in the vaults. They will use the wand to release her if they decide or put her on ice.”

As Phoenix and Raven disappeared back up the stairs, he turned to Sonya. “We have little time. Follow me.”

Sonya’s eyes widened, and a mix of hope and suspicion flashed across her face. “Why are you helping me?”

He glanced back at the cameras mounted in the hall's corner.

“I… Liora er, Charmaine and I… Because Dolly is in danger,” Tristan replied, his voice urgent. “I know where they are, and I have to get you there.”

Tristan looked around once more and punched the button to summon the elevator. “Can you cut the electricity the way Liora did above?”

“Liora didn’t do that. It had to be Dolly. Her power with Charmaine isn’t that developed,” Sonya said.

“Are you sure? Because you’ll need to try,” he replied. “If we don’t get to them, they are dead. I think the First People have them.”

“First People? You mean Greenlee’s cult?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Tristan.

The doors to the elevator opened, and they both entered. He pressed the button to go down to the lower floors and into the vaults. Quickly, he released her cuffs. Sonya closed her eyes. Nothing. She touched Tristan, stunning him with her touch. She was equally stunned by the truth she sensed—he had mated with her sister. Enraged, her psychic powers surged. And she unleashed it with a purpose. Plasma blasted them both in the elevator, causing the electricity to go out. She looked up from her position on the floor and over at him. Tristan seemed equally confused.

“You mated with Liora! You disarmed Charmaine and mated her to you with your bite!” Kaida said breathlessly. “Why!”

“We don’t have time!” she shouted.

“I’ll fucking kill you!” Sonya hissed and charged him. When they touched again, she absorbed more of the truth, and it was too much emotionally for them to handle. The entire elevator shook as if it would snap from the cables.

“STOP! You must let me go!” Tristan threw her off him with what strength he had left in him.

“Kill me when we get outside.” Tristan shot up and blasted a hole through the top of the elevator ceiling. He reached down for her. Sonya had no choice but to take his hand, and she learned all his history in doing so. His suffering and Liora’s choice of him made sense. She understood the danger her sister was in now, even better than Tristan.

“What now?” she asked, breathless from all the pain she carried.

“We’ve got to go up, and we have to go fast,” he said. “You can’t touch me again. I can’t take it,” Tristan mumbled.

She agreed in disgust. “Me either. I’ll go first.”

Sonya scaled up the cables with Tristan following. They reached several floors above, and then he called to her.

“Here! Take the ladder to the doors. Jump!”

She glanced over and saw a maintenance ladder bolted to the wall. Without hesitation, she jumped and slipped but caught a rung and climbed to the doors. The vampire, Tristan, was right behind her. Sonya pried the doors open and heaved herself inside. Tristan followed.

They were on a casino floor. They could hear the intercoms beyond the hall. When Tristan looked around, he saw where they were and smiled. “Good. Good job. Follow me.”

Once outside the hotel, Tristan led the way through the maze of stranded cars and confused tourists. They reached an alleyway where a Bugatti was parked.

“Get in,” he ordered.

Sonya did as she was told. Tristan hit reverse and drove a mile backward around cars and people until he spun out into the open street. He then accelerated into the night.

Shakespeare rode his motorcycle between the parked cars that clogged the Vegas Strip, weaving through pedestrians and stalled vehicles.

The chaos of the night mirrored his inner turmoil. Grief had consumed him, an intense pain he hadn’t felt since he lost his beloved Sophie. Her death was his fault, as was her cursed existence. Blinded by blood tears, he was unprepared for the mental jolt that struck him like a bolt of lightning. The Supreme Draquria had sent a command from Sicily.

Shakespeare lost control of his motorcycle, nearly crashing into a car. The bike threw him off, causing him to hit the back of a vehicle while the bike itself skidded across the pavement, sending sparks flying.

Stunned, he lay there for several minutes. People gathered around him. One even knelt to render aid. The blood on his face was not from the accident, but from his vampiric tears. He lay there and suffered in his own misery.

Join us! Phoenix's voice commanded in his head.

Something had gone wrong. The message from the consiglieri was clear. The Fratelli had judged Lucio, and today was the day of his death. Shakespeare sat up, and the crowd backed away. His mangled body healed in front of the mortals. Some gasped and covered their mouths, others ran off screaming as if he were a devil. Once recovered, he closed his eyes and reached out to Domenico. He received nothing, no request, no instructions. In fact, he felt nothing from any of his brethren. Just the fragments of Phoenix calling out to him.

Assuming he was needed at the Bellagio, he climbed onto his bike and revved the engine to take to the night at a suitable speed. By choosing the sidewalk over the street, he made people run or jump out of his way.

Within minutes, he reached the Bellagio and noticed the aftermath of the battle between brothers from across the street. Only he and the other supernatural’s could witness what the Fratelli had done to their own. Marcello took Lucio, and the brothers disappeared in a blink, turning to smoke.

“Lucio is dead,” Shakespeare muttered.

But there was no relief. Decades of craving revenge had come to this—an empty, hollow feeling. Domenico had predicted this moment, but some part of him had never believed it would come.

He exhaled sharply, turning his bike toward the Bellagio and rode hard. The power outage was a nuisance, the crowd outside the hotel even worse. A blockade prevented entrance, so he veered to the side, and cut through the valet area and headed toward the garages. Just as he did, Tristan and the guardian burst from a secured exit. Shakespeare paused; his gaze fixed on them. The bitch had killed his Sophie. They jumped into Tristan’s Bugatti, speeding in reverse through the alley.

Shakespeare narrowed his eyes. Lucio was dead, but the consiglieri lived. There was unfinished business here. And why was Tristan with the guardian, unprotected? Where was Phoenix?

Confused but fueled by rage, he took off after them. Tristan swerved into the open street, accelerating, and Shakespeare dropped his headlights, slipping into pursuit. The chaos in the night around him only intensified his need for vengeance.

Sonya took a deep breath and braced herself for what lay ahead. She glanced at Tristan, the priest who had once been sacrificed by the vampire Lucio. He was fixated on driving, lost in his own thoughts. Images of the fight between him and Charmaine—her sister, Liora—flashed through her mind. She remembered how Charmaine had welcomed the fight, meeting Tristan’s strength head-on. And then she thought of her own reaction to Shakespeare, how she had returned to heal him despite knowing she shouldn’t.

How could she judge Charmaine for what she, too, had almost done in the face of their enemies’ pain? She turned her gaze away.

“You are Kaida?” Tristan asked.

“To you, I’m Sonya,” she muttered.

“I’ve studied you and your sisters for years,” Tristan continued, a faint reverence in his voice. “Especially your story. You, Liora, Aries, Zia—you all drew me in.”

“You’re a vampire, a slave to the Draquria. You have no right to my sister’s history. You’re just a dead priest.”

Tristan glanced at her, unbothered. “Yes, I’m dead. But your sister chose me as much as I chose her. And in that choice, she reminded me what it was to feel alive again.”

Sonya scoffed.

“When this war is over, Liora will honor her vows, and I will honor mine,” Tristan said quietly. “All of you will be purged from this realm.”

“That’s fine with me,” she replied coldly.

Tristan merely smirked. He pressed a button to lower the top of the sports car as it accelerated up the expressway ramp and headed toward the desert. “Just so long as I get one more taste of Liora before the end.”

Sonya’s eyes narrowed, her expression lethal.

Tristan refocused, answering Charmaine’s distant, desperate call for help in the night.