Chapter 9 Kyle
Kyle
If I’d expected the air to be fresher at the dock, I’d have been wrong.
I tried not to breathe too deeply, to avoid drawing the odors of rotting fish, oil, and sewage into my chest. A small container ship had just arrived, chugging slowly to moor and unload.
Water slapped against the sea walls and jetties.
I moved closer to the docking ship, staying within the shadows, skulking by the wall, to try to identify if that was our mark, and the two guys Brock had sent to meet with me seemed to wait a beat before following.
They always waited before doing anything, and it was unclear whether that was because they didn’t like working with me, they didn’t agree with how I acted, or they were just stupid.
They were both young enough vampires to be stupid, though, so I went with that. And maybe they hadn’t been all that bright before they were turned. Becoming a vampire didn’t gift anyone with brains, and they looked a lot more like the hired muscle than the thinkers of any operation.
I drew closer to the small group of humans unloading the boxes and raised my fist in the universally understood signal for the guys behind me to stop before stumbling forward as the vampire behind me walked right into me anyway. I tossed a glare over my shoulder.
“Why didn’t you stop?” My irritated words barely made a sound, but his hearing picked them up.
“You didn’t say,” he hissed back, and I shook my head.
Brock needed to get some proper training in place for the army he seemed to be trying to build.
Or maybe not. I needed to be careful what I wished for. Their weaknesses would make them easy to bring down, and certainly my group of men would run rings around them when the time came.
Luckily, the humans didn’t hear me skidding around in the shadows as they banged the crates together and grumbled about the lateness of the hour.
“Michelle is going to fucking kill me if I keep getting home after midnight,” one gruff voice said to the darkness.
“Pay’s worth it, though.” The lit tip of the second man’s cigarette bobbed up and down as he spoke.
“Time to go, gentlemen. Night shift’s arrived.” A group of vampires — Nic’s crew — approached from down the jetty, and the two men put the crate they were holding down like this was part of the normal routine.
“We’ve got it from here,” a second vampire said, and the humans moved away without argument.
With the vampires in charge, crates were unloaded much more efficiently and quickly, and without any of the moaning and grumbling the humans had been doing.
They worked with minimal chat — Nic and Sebastian’s usual well-oiled machine — and I watched them for several minutes, trying to identify the patterns in their movements, trying to pinpoint their weakest moment.
We needed those crates. There was no way I could return to Brock without them.
I glanced behind me again. Brock had sent his two strongest fledglings, at least, which meant loading the crates into our transport wouldn’t pose a problem.
I had our truck driver’s number on speed dial, and he could be here in bare seconds.
The whole operation would go smoothly once I gave the signal.
I took a deep breath and lowered my ski mask over my head. I couldn’t take the chance one of the Dupont vampires would recognize me and blow my cover. My undercover operation was only need-to-know information, and it was entirely possible these guys didn’t know—or have any need to know.
Behind me, fabric rustled as the fledglings lowered their own masks.
“Move out,” I muttered, and they were surprisingly stealthy for a pair of such big dudes.
We took the Dupont guys by surprise, and I hit both of them hard over the head, my gut clenching at the squelching noise the iron bar I’d grabbed made when it connected with their skulls.
They fell to the dock, surprise still evident on their faces, and I dragged them behind a stack of boxes. After a quick glance in the direction of my fledglings, I tipped some bagged blood into each of the unconscious vampire’s mouths to try to stimulate healing.
“They’re down,” I called as I reemerged and grabbed my cell phone to get our truck on the scene. The sooner we left, the better.
We loaded up quickly and soon I was sitting in the passenger seat of a truck as it bounced over unexpected potholes on our way to the drop.
“Careful,” I ground out. “We’re not carrying cheap shit back there.” I jerked my thumb behind me, to the trailer, where the fledglings were with the crates. Stealing from Sebastian was one thing, but allowing some dick driver to break all the bottles of his fancy-ass spirits? Sacrilege.
The vampire driving nodded and eased his foot off the gas as I ripped my ski mask off. Shit, it was hot in here.
We pulled off a quiet street and to a warehouse with most of the windows busted out. As I opened the door and jumped down from the cab, Brock stepped around the corner, his fangs glinting in the moonlight.
“All done,” I said, and his grin widened.
“I knew you wouldn’t have an issue,” he said. “And the vampires who were there?”
Brock’s fledglings emerged from the back of the truck.
“Kyle took care of them,” one of the guys said.
“Yeah,” the other confirmed. “And you should have heard the noise their heads made when he hit them. They won’t be a problem again.”
I kept my face blank. I very much hoped for them to be a problem again, although not immediately.
Brock walked around the truck and lifted a flashlight as he examined the contents. He whistled a low sound of surprise. “Well, fuck. This is the biggest haul so far.” He clapped my shoulder when I joined him. “You done good, boy. Done good.”
It was high praise indeed, but I didn’t acknowledge his words. I never liked to interrupt people when they might speak without being guarded — and Brock seemed happy enough right now that he might just do that.
He clapped his hand against my shoulder.
“Believe me. This is just one of the first steps in bringing the Duponts down. They’ll notice us now.
We’ll be that irritating thorn just under their skin until I’m ready to attack properly.
And if nothing else, they won’t doubt our message now.
They know we’re here, and we’re not going anywhere.
” He stopped and looked at me, his eyes both manic and searching.
“And you…” He paused and seemed to make a decision.
“We needed to make sure you were all in. With us.” He cocked his head as he watched me, the gesture one of fake empathy and a plea for understanding. “You get that, right?”
I nodded and looked beyond him into the truck, my mind still on the two vampires I’d taken out. They should be healing by now… hopefully. “Let’s get the crates out of sight.” I signaled to the fledglings, and they began to unload the wines and spirits into Brock’s warehouse.
They made quick work of the lifting and carrying, but I mostly directed. I’d done enough disrupting of Sebastian’s business without dirtying my hands even more.
Luckily, Brock didn’t notice that I hung back now that I’d passed his test. He approached me as the last box was left inside, and I was fixing a new padlock to the rusty old chain securing the doors.
I tested the strength of it. We’d need to up the security if Brock wanted to keep hold of his contraband in a neighborhood like this one.
I could almost feel the eyes watching us. A prickle on the nape of my neck. Human criminals were no match for us, and Brock wouldn’t tread carefully if anyone attacked while we were there.
“You coming back to the house?” He slung his arm around my shoulders like he was my new best bud. Like we’d officially started our bromance. “We have a bunch of bloodwhores you can take advantage of. Maybe I can make it a party.” He lifted an eyebrow in suggestion.
My stomach roiled, bile clawing inside my throat. “Nah, man.” I forced a grin as I leaned heavily on my drawl again. “Have my own at home.” It was a lie, made about Sam at Esmé’s direction, but there was no way I was going back to the Blackbloods’ house and feeding from some unknown humans.
Hell, not even Sebastian and Nic knew I couldn’t actually face the thought of feeding from a human since the night I’d killed Camille.
Memories of her lifeless body in my arms, her blood coating my throat and clothing flooded my mind.
She’d been such a pale corpse, her eyes wide, her lips parted as if in disbelief at what I’d done.
My Camille.
I’d killed her. And I’d never let my bloodlust take another human again — every person I’d killed since Camille had been an exercise in control, in strategy, on purpose. I never lost myself to bloodlust now.
I couldn’t allow it.
But Brock shook his head slowly, and it was mocking. “Oh, Kyle. I think you’ve misunderstood my generosity.”
My chest tightened as I waited for his next words. They weren’t going to be good.
“It wasn’t an invitation to the house. It was an instruction. You’re one of us now, and you belong at the celebration.” His words were heavy and laced with a meaning I couldn’t fail to understand.
It was another test.
And he didn’t add where I can see you, but the phrase was implied.
“Tell you what.” His hold locked harder around me. “Get the warehouse opened back up and we’ll take a couple of cases with us right now. Drunk humans are the most fun, right?”
His laugh was dark and almost sticky as I stepped forward to unlock the padlock once more.
“One of the guys will drive you, Kyle. I’ll see you there with the booze.” He yanked the door open and strode into the dark space.
I withheld my sigh and turned to face the two fledglings who’d met up with me at the docks.
“This way.” The youngest one jerked his head toward a beaten-up car.
Without hesitation, I strode toward it, each of my steps purposeful and deliberate. Brock had made it very clear that he expected to see me at his house, and there wasn’t a way out of this one.