Chapter 81 #2
I watch, curious, until Marchman notices and smiles. “UV protection, in case. Easier to move around in than a cape. Bela Lugosi never did parkour.”
I laugh at his playful smile. The more time I spend around him and his people, the more ashamed I am of my initial mistrust and revulsion. You’d think I would’ve known better, but at least I’ve finally learned the lesson and vow to do better moving forward.
The vampires also put on body armor, riot helmets, and tactical gun belts, and have special protective goggles ready to slide down over their faces in case the attackers use UV spotlights or break windows.
Vampires aren’t impervious to injury and death, but they have better regenerative powers than humans and most shifters.
Combined with their speed and agility, they don’t die nearly as easily as one of us.
Holy water is bullshit—as is garlic and most of the other myths. Wooden stakes through the heart are effective, but all someone has to do is nail a perfect sniper shot with a hollow-point in their heart or brain. Decapitation also works, but that works on pretty much anyone.
My people also wear bulletproof vests and are fully armed because we’re not fucking around. No one except our people will leave the building alive. Hopefully, we can capture a few of the attackers alive and get taped confessions.
The next step is taking out Sterling in person.
But first, we need to deal with these assholes.
We settle in to silently wait once everyone has completed their final preparations.
It’s nearly 10:00 when a woman whispers, one of the fae.
“They’re here. Twenty-five. A block away. Coming in two waves.”
This building was chosen because it’s also blocked off on three sides by warehouse buildings that prohibit access to this building. The other buildings are vacant, but our attackers won’t realize that. The vampires own the entire block.
Meaning the attackers are funneled in the way we want them to arrive.
Then they run a gauntlet of metal containers we’ve set up in the front near the street, glamoured so our visitors won’t notice them on the way in.
Once the attackers are inside, witches will throw out rolls of razor wire glamoured to hide it.
If the attackers try to run, they’ll hit that and funnel into the narrow canyons formed by the shipping containers.
Where snipers lying in wait will quickly pick them off.
Any who survive that and manage to reach the gate will be held in place by the fae and witches, who will move in to secure the perimeter around the entire block.
Part of their charms involve disguising the sound of gunfire to make it sound like construction noises so as not to attract attention.
Two sets of small decoy work crews using jackhammers help sell that.
Inside this cavernous space is another gauntlet of shipping containers for the invaders to maneuver through, and more glamoured razor wire for them to get tangled in.
No one moves, no one makes any noise, as a sentry up at the windows on the second floor signals the progress of the attackers.
The fight is surprisingly quick and bloody, with the vampires and their spooky speed taking out most of the attackers before the rest of us even get off a single shot. In all honesty? They really didn’t need us. But still, I’m happy to be here ensuring all the attackers are dealt with.
We capture three of them alive, two wolves and a human, and after a severe hour-long interrogation I’ll spare you the details of, we find out that yes, they were sent by Sterling.
Even better?
One of the men whose head now lies a good five feet from his body is Sterling’s eldest son, Thad.
That’s one down.
Turns out we didn’t need the outside preparations, other than disguising the noises, because none of them made it out of the warehouse. The sentry was liquidated once the two sets of attackers were inside the gate.
Even better, we learn Thad was supposed to report back tonight, in person, to his father in Atlanta, at the family home.
As Marchman, Morning, Dahlia, and I stare down at the body of Thad Sterling, Morning smiles and turns to Dahlia. “We need a vampire of his approximate height and weight.”
She laughs. “Think he’s got enough left in him to drain to use for it?”
“Maybe.”
Marchman arches an eyebrow at them. “What?”
“There’s a spell I haven’t done in a while that Dahlia can help me with,” Morning says. “But we need his blood. We can glamour a vampire to look like Thad. They can also drink his blood immediately before entering the house to smell like him long enough to get close to Sterling.”
“I’ll fool the clueless humans acting as security,” Dahlia says.
“Why a vampire?” I ask. “Why not a wolf?”
“Speed,” Marchman, Dahlia, and Morning say in unison. “A vampire can kill before Sterling even realizes what’s happening.”
“And the security will see Thad going into the house and blame him for it,” I say, now following. “That’s brilliant. What if his other two sons are there?”
Marchman shrugs, then reappears on my other side, startling me, but he’s smiling. “Three throats are just as easy to slit as one.”
I laugh. “Jesusfuck, I forgot how fast you guys are,” I say without thinking, but he and the other vampires laugh.
“We are,” he agrees. “And we can position a couple of people in the backyard to make entry and help, if necessary.”
“He won’t expect an attack at home,” Dahlia says. “He’s too confident. We can’t take him out at his office—too many witnesses to risk it. Plus security cameras everywhere.”
“Then let’s get busy and do this before he completely leaks out all over the floor,” I say.
Sterling’s team in Dallas was wiped out en masse, all seventeen of them, but they managed to embargo the news until later that evening. Morning will confirm the identities with his friend later, once the press dies down.
Six hours later, ten of us, including Marchman and four other vampires, one masquerading as Thad, are waiting in our positions. It’s dusk, but with the sun far enough below the western horizon that there are no direct rays, the vampires can now move unimpeded.
I wish I had an interesting version of events to tell, but our plan goes off without a hitch.
Lucky for us, David and Harrison are also at the house and killed at the same time.
The vampire dropped the knife he used next to the bodies and escaped through the back door.
Said knife which was conveniently engraved with Thad’s name and was an item easily identifiable to others.
Police are now searching for Thad because the three security agents stationed outside at the front of the house swore it was Thad.
The security cameras outside showed it was Thad who entered through the front door and then fled through the back door.
They heard “Thad” screaming that he believed Sterling had their mother and Mal killed.
When the security team finally made it inside, they found the crime scene.
I should mention the whole thing about vampires needing invitations and not being seen on cameras or in mirrors is also pure Hollywood bullshit.
If they move at full speed, the ones who can, they might look blurry on camera because of that.
If they’re standing still, they’re just as visible as anyone else.
An hour later, we’re all sitting around a cheery firepit on Morning’s flagstone lanai surrounding his pool and toasting our success with our beverages of choice.
I should mention vampires can and do drink and eat things other than blood, although they require blood periodically because of their condition.
We’re all watching an outside TV hung on the wall when one of the local stations breaks in with news of the murder of Sterling and his sons, and that the police are looking for Thad.
Oh, and an anonymous tip just received says Sterling and his sons are shifters who haven’t registered.
And police are now also investigating the fact that Mal and his mom haven’t been seen in person in…a while.
We all toast again. “This was a group effort,” I say, holding up my bottle of beer. “Let’s hope this finally buys us peace.”
“Will Mal and his mother come out of hiding?” Dahlia asks.
“She’s done nothing wrong,” Morning says.
“We have dozens of witnesses that she and Mal were nowhere near Atlanta when the murders occurred. They’re not guilty of anything except not registering as shifters.
Even then, since they’re not running for office, that’s not exactly a crime.
Mal has never falsified financial documents due to his age.
Depending on how Sterling set up his finances, Iris might face a civil fine, at best.
“Considering the circumstances,” I say, “can’t she claim emotional distress and domestic violence, and being in fear for her life?
I know she mentioned wanting to disband the pack and liquidate everything.
It’d be a shame for her and Mal not to receive a dime from the estate, considering the years of crap they survived.
Besides, she’s only fifty-four. So, unless Sterling did it for her, she probably hasn’t even committed document fraud. ”
“True,” Morning says. “I happen to know a good family law attorney who’s licensed to practice in the state of Georgia,” he playfully adds before sipping his mead. “And I have it on good authority he’ll work cheap. As in for you and yours, free.” He winks.
I laugh. “I’ll make sure she talks to you.”
Our gathering breaks up a couple of hours later, and I head out with my people. Marchman and his folks have more business to deal with, but at least I can reassure my pack and the nest members under our protection that the worst seems to be over.
I hope.