Fratelli: Eternal Bloodlines (The Vampire Cartel #2)

40. The Cult

Chapter 40

The Cult

M ojave Camp Ground Zero

April 19, 2018

(2 Days Before Death)

They had arrived. Dolly and Darlene walked toward a fortified camp deep in the Mojave Desert. One sister physical, one sister metaphysical, both had dried tears streaked over their cheeks. The First People surely spent years constructing it. But why Vegas? How could they have known they would need refuge here on this exact day, at this exact moment?

Charmaine stepped to Dolly’s left; her distress clear. The sisters read her thoughts; something felt off.

“We shouldn’t go in. This is planned. It doesn’t feel right. My power… it’s changing. Liora isn’t strong in me now. I can’t let you cross. We should find another way and wait for Tristan and Sonya.”

Professor Eric Brown halted. He faced the group of women. He raised a hand, silencing all conversation. Darlene, as her metaphysical self, lifted into the air and hovered, her loathing for the man apparent. The professor pressed a handkerchief to his bleeding neck. His eyes held concern as he glanced at Darlene, and then at the others.

“We… no, I… I want to welcome the daughters of Julia Brown. Everything you see beyond these doors is for you. This was foretold to Julia and the slaves of Manchac Swamp before the end of the Civil War. Our journey has resulted in significant losses. So, few of us understand what’s at stake. But we made it here, and it’s because of my sister, Wanda Brown, that you two are here today.”

“You’re a liar,” Darlene spat. “I know who you are and the games you played with Lucio. You’re his footstool, and this—this is a trap!”

“Tell them,” Dolly urged the professor. “Tell them how you helped Lucio hunt down our family for years if it is your family. Then you’re a traitor!”

The professor didn’t flinch at the accusation, simply nodding. “I did. I sacrificed everyone, including your mother. And after what I show you and tell you today, if you still want revenge, I’m ready to die for it. Time and grace are necessary to demonstrate the truth and the potential outcomes if we collaborate.”

“He’s right,” came a voice from behind them.

Darlene whirled around, her body half black smoke, half dark energy. She glared at Greenlee.

Greenlee shrugged off the support from Nzinga and others. Using a cane offered by another woman, she stepped forward.

“We’re not here to escape our crimes against your family and the realm. Thanks to Julia, we, the final few, have one chance to save our world and its people. Darkness dominates all supernatural entities in this world. Where has the light gone? Have you thought of it? Why Lucio is drawn to you both? If you love Lucio, consider the truth,” she said. Her gaze shifted to Darlene, who seethed with more rage than her sister. “Lucio wants to protect you from his family, I believe that. If he didn’t, he would have done to you what he did to your mother and countless others. He protected you. But he is not yours. He belongs to the Supreme, and soon, he will be your greatest test. The one you were born for. The one you’ve always known you will win. Let us help you prepare before it’s too late.”

Charmaine stepped forward. “We’re not defenseless. Know that. If this is a trick, I’ll finish you.”

Greenlee smiled. “Ask your Goddess Liora why she spared us. There is a reason.”

Charmaine glared.

“Please. We will have visitors soon enough,” said the professor. “Let us begin.”

Before them stood armed, combat-ready women, guarding the camp with their lives. Behind them was a team assisting Greenlee and her entourage.

Darlene, now in the sky as a shadowy, metaphysical being, glanced down at her sister.

What will we find inside? Dolly asked telepathically.

I found two metal tents, heavily guarded. One holds weapons and strange golden objects—I think the professor calls it ‘lyrical.’ Looks like they’re preparing for some kind of ritual and battle, Darlene replied.

And the other tent? Dolly inquired.

A lab. Cyro chambers. An exam room. Two scientists and a black woman, definitely supernatural, are on a table giving blood and undergoing tests. She wasn’t hurt or angry, just sitting there. She saw me. They didn’t. She looked directly at me and smiled.

Dolly glanced at Charmaine. “Try to get Nzinga to tell you something useful. If necessary, take it from her. And stay close to the camp doors for Sonya and Tristan. My guess is they’ll separate us, so be ready.”

“I agree,” said Charmaine.

As the tall gates opened, star-struck gazes—no men, only women greeted the women. They focused on Dolly and Darlene, bowing as they passed. Their arrival had always been intended.

Bellagio —

“Where do we go? To the desert?” Raven asked as he followed Phoenix, not above ground, but through side doors to more secure rooms in the vaults. The magistrate and crowned leader of the consiglieri ignored him. He moved with a single-minded purpose. Raven fell silent. His unease grew. They needed to reach the upper floors, to make it to the streets. Why waste time on a useless detour?

As they wound through the labyrinth of dark corridors and passed through door after door, Raven tried once more to reach out to Sebastiano—his Don, his mentor, his savior, and his lover. Raven had never confined his desires to a single gender; with Sebastiano, he discovered the freedom of fluidity, an existence beyond the binary. Yet, the absence of his master’s voice was a gnawing void in his mind, an anomaly that unsettled him. Why hadn’t Sebastiano contacted him? And why couldn’t Raven reach him in return?

They approached a final door, taller than the others, forged from impenetrable steel, black as a starless night. With a command from Phoenix, it creaked open. Raven paused at the threshold. An inexplicable force repelled him. The energy in the room was overwhelming, almost sentient. It pressed against his psyche with a feminine intensity. Phoenix entered and seemed unbothered by the force that kept Raven at bay.

Raven watched as Phoenix moved with reverence toward a black chest encrusted with black diamonds and dark jewels. From within, Phoenix retrieved a staff. Raven’s breath caught in his throat. It was the most beautiful weapon he had ever seen—a golden baton that seemed to pulse with its own life.

“Come in, Raven,” Phoenix called. His voice hit him like the strike of an iron fist in a velvet glove.

“I… can’t,” Raven replied. He struggled against the invisible force that held him in place.

Phoenix’s gaze turned sly, almost mocking him. “Come in.”

Raven braced himself and pressed against the invisible barrier. It felt strangely familiar, like the comforting embrace of a woman in the quiet of the night. The air carried a scent that was both sweet and commanding, the essence of feminine power. He pushed harder, enjoying the challenge. It reminded him of the way mortals’ resistance tested his will when he intended to corrupt and consume them with his vampiric bite. Raven prided himself on being an alpha in all his pursuits, and this was no different.

“What is this place?” he asked in breathless wonder. He crossed the threshold. His eyes widened as he took in the trappings of ancient royalty—gowns, crowns, sandals, all from an era that belonged to a goddess long past. It was unmistakably a queen’s chamber.

“Aries,” Phoenix murmured. His voice was thick with love and sorrow. He held the golden staff with the tenderness one might show a cherished lover. He pressed his lips to it in a kiss that spoke of lifetimes of love and passion lost to him. “This is my wife’s home. What remains of her in this universe?”

A beam of light shot from the staff, sharper than any sword. Raven barely registered it. Too entranced by the surrounding relics, the remnants of power could not be ignored. What did the shields and daggers do? He yearned to touch them, to inhale Aries’s essence, but a flicker of doubt held him back—Phoenix would not tolerate such a trespass.

“Are you saying you were married to a guardian?” Raven asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“Mated, for a lifetime,” Phoenix replied, his tone distant, lost in memories. “The best and only good lifetime I’ve lived.”

“Then why are we?—”

Phoenix moved with the speed and precision of a seasoned warrior. The golden baton, now a deadly weapon, sliced through Raven’s neck with a single, fluid motion. His head flew across the room, severed cleanly, and his body collapsed in a lifeless heap. Black blood spilled onto the sacred chamber floor, defiling the space Phoenix had so meticulously preserved in Aries’s honor.

Before Raven could resurrect, Phoenix kicked his head aside. Two monks in long robes and dark cloaks entered the chamber. They worked in swift action to bag Raven’s head and body separately. They moved with practiced efficiency, cleaning the floor of any trace of the black blood.

“Take him to the Venetian with Sophie,” Phoenix ordered, his voice cold, detached.

As they left, Phoenix inhaled deeply. He absorbed the last vestiges of Aries’s presence. After thousands of years without her, he was closer than ever. He retracted the staff’s blade, shortened the baton, and secured it in the loop of his belt. A glance at his watch reminded him it was time to deal with the last two consiglieri in the desert—the guardians would kneel.

Mojave Desert

Tristan slowed the car to a stop. Sonya stirred. She sat up and looked over her shoulder for Shakespeare. “Why are we stopping?” she asked.

“Can’t go further. Look—look at that,” Tristan replied. He nodded in the direction ahead.

Sonya squinted into the distance. “I don’t see… oh?” Her eyes adjusted, and she gasped. The barrier ahead was a perfect mirror of the desert behind them, an illusion designed to keep them from stopping but crashing into the force field. The membrane shimmered, almost imperceptibly, a wall of energy as the blockade.

“Oh, wow,” Sonya muttered.

“You ready, Guardian? He’s here. Showtime,” Tristan said, already out of the car before she could respond.

“What—?”

The jarring impact of Shakespeare’s motorcycle cut Sonya’s words off, slamming into the back of their vehicle. The force sent a shock through the car, but Tristan escaped unfazed, his focus locked on the battle ahead as Shakespeare flew right at him.

Macy Lynn stood with hands on her hips, surveying the camp. Her team had successfully erected the protective barrier, keeping the guardian and consiglieri out. She watched the approaching headlights with a satisfied smile. To witness the consiglieri crash into the force field and kill that bitch guardian, Kaida, would be her greatest joy.

But the car came to a stop.

“Commander?” one soldier asked.

“Shh…” Macy Lynn warned. She took a cautious step closer to the forcefield. The car idled quietly, the energy barrier strong but not completely invisible. She couldn’t make out the details inside the Bugatti. Was she wrong? Maybe it wasn’t Tristan and Kaida after all. Then the car door opened, and Tristan, the consiglieri, stepped out.

“They know the camp is fortified,” Macy Lynn murmured, her confidence faltered for the first time. She turned to the women under her command. “Run.”

The alarm blared a shrill sound that echoed through the camp. Chaos erupted as the camp’s defenses activated.