Chapter 19 Kyle
Kyle
Istood at ease as Nic presided over our meeting.
None of us were seated, instead, we were all slightly on the defensive, despite the additional guards.
It seemed too comfortable, too complacent, to be any less aware of our surroundings, given the attack Brock had just launched and I’d been able to prevent the worst of. Thank fuck for that.
My blood heated at just the thought of that filthy Blackblood stomping through these hallways like he had a right to be here.
He no longer had a right to even walk this planet.
Not after the damage he and his group had caused in various cities and now New Orleans — and the things he’d let Esmé do to Sam.
“I think our best plan is to ambush Brock. We react swiftly and take him by surprise. There’s no point spending weeks planning.
He already knows I’m here, if his spies are any good, and we can capitalize on their lack of discipline and preparation if we move quickly.
” Nic spoke with purpose and the air of command from his place at the other side of the room.
I considered Nic’s words, but Sebastian directly questioned his brother.
“Are you sure? I thought we were gathering information and making a plan. Wasn’t that why we sent Kyle in undercover?” He slanted me a quick glance like maybe he disapproved of how things had turned out.
But Nic merely shrugged. “Plans change. Mates make a difference.”
Surely, that was something Sebastian understood? Maybe he did because he didn’t say anything further.
“I think if we go in like we did with Francois and do what we need to do then get out, we’ll be good. We’re a well-oiled machine. It worked before, and you know, if it ain’t broke…” Nic shrugged.
I grimaced. Francois’s mansion, tucked away from most of Baton Rouge, was a very different battlefield than Brock’s compound in the city of New Orleans.
“There are too many innocents who could be hurt,” I said, “and Brock won’t care.”
Sebastian glanced over this shoulder. “That’s the old soldier in you talking, Kyle.”
Nic met my gaze. “We’ll do our best to minimize damage to innocents — we always do.”
I nodded. That much was true. And maybe Sebastian was right. I still preferred the old ways — a deserted battlefield somewhere where men met, and the war was waged and won.
“Okay.” I stepped forward, ready to tell them everything I knew about Brock’s compound.
The main house and the outbuildings. It wasn’t as much information as I’d wanted to glean when I started this, but it was the best we had.
More than we would have known if I hadn’t infiltrated in the first place.
I picked up a dry erase marker and walked to the board on the wall.
“This is what the compound looks like.” I drew the basic shape of the house and yard, and I indicated the outbuildings with rough shapes alongside.
“There are always armed guards posted here, up the steps by the house. These gates remain closed and are covered by at least one camera.” I kept the marker moving as I spoke, filling in all the things I was mentioning.
Then I faced Nic. “The inside of the house is largely empty of belongings. The Blackbloods don’t seem to hoard or have collections. ”
Nic nodded. “Less clutter helps.”
“I don’t know where Brock will be, though.” He was usually at his stronghold, but I couldn’t guarantee it, and if he’d been warned ahead of time, he could be anywhere. “He puts his men through training, but it doesn’t match our level. Too many of them are fledglings, but they do have enthusiasm.”
Sebastian nodded this time. “Yes, we saw that the other night,” he said. “They shouldn’t be underestimated.”
I spoke a little more — just details on the vampires our teams might find inside, Demon in particular, but there wasn’t a lot else to say and after a short time, Nic drew the meeting to a close. He didn’t want to waste too much time or daylight.
We divided into our usual units, Nic and Sebastian each keeping their mates with them, and traveled to Brock’s compound in SUVs. But not all the way — no point in announcing ourselves by roaring up to the gates in a convoy.
After leaving the trucks about a mile away, we started to head in on foot.
“This isn’t all the vampires in his army,” I said to Nic, “but Brock houses a good portion of them here from what I can tell.”
“Doesn’t really matter.” Nic glanced at me. “All we need to do to end this is get Brock. The other vampires will fall in line once they have a new leader.”
Jason chuckled from his position where he’d joined us at the drop point. “That’s a very alpha way to think, Nic. I’ll have to let Conri know you’re becoming more like a wolf.”
Nic hissed fake displeasure then I broke away to start directing the different units to their missions.
We were close to the compound, and I wanted us all on a different building, a different entry point.
Scaling the fence wasn’t really an issue — Brock was living in a fantasyland if he thought his security measures would keep highly trained, highly skilled, disciplined vampires out.
His armed guards wouldn’t succeed at that either, but maybe it was preferable that he lived in faux-safety rather than having the sense to truly keep himself and his army protected and secure—although only good training would do that.
Each of our units entered without a problem — just as I’d known we would. We cleared our areas and arrived at the large training yard where I’d fought for Brock when he’d been testing me. Brock stood there, flanked by Demon and more of his men.
As soon as he spotted me, he spat on the ground and his fangs descended.
“There’s the traitor scum.” His laugh afterward was malicious.
He threw a look over his shoulder. “Let this be a lesson to you, boys. If any of you are found to be traitors, you will be dealt with.” At a lift of his arm, his entire group surged forward.
But what they had in enthusiasm, they lacked in skill.
They roared their intentions and signaled many of their moves before they even made them.
They were no match for the men I’d trained, or for Leia and Kayla, and blood spurted high into the air after Brock’s men started to fall, one after the other, until corpses littered the ground like discarded children’s toys.
Bloodlust colored my vision as Demon stepped in front of me and smiled, his fangs showing.
“Traitor.” He greeted me and nodded his head in mock acknowledgment, the gesture out of place for the large man who didn’t appear to have a brain.
I didn’t bother replying to him. Instead, I acted before he could even move. His faux politeness had been his weakness as I clawed across his face then gouged his jugular, slitting it and working the new ends out like a frayed wire.
His eyes and mouth went wide, and he clutched his neck, but his ginormous body swayed to the side, and he leaned at an awkward angle for a moment before he crashed to the ground, sending up a plume of dust and blood spray.
I hadn’t just gone to the mountain. I’d brought it to the ground.
Flexing my fingers, I scoured the area for my next target.
Then I glanced around until I found Nic.
He could handle himself, but I wanted to watch his back.
He’d saved me from a life like Brock’s. I was so lost I could have been a Blackblood if I’d stayed on my path of destruction after I’d killed Camille.
I owed Nic my life and I was sure as hell going to protect his.
Except, my king didn’t need my protection.
He was fighting with Brock, and Brock was strong and like a wall of muscle, but Nic was old and powerful.
He’d fought alongside me many times in more recent years, and he’d honed his moves while killing many, many enemies.
Brock was his enemy now.
But their battle was far less than extraordinary. Brock looked lumbering and slow around Nic, like he usually had the others do his fighting for him and he was out of practice. He stumbled as Nic feinted, and that was all it took.
Nic looked down at him, his claws already in Brock’s chest. Brock grasped Nic’s wrist and looked up at him. Around him, the fighting was already dying down, my men starting to mill around as they killed or captured Brock’s soldiers, subduing as many as they could.
I couldn’t tell which vampires were dead and which were just incapacitated, though.
Something a hell of lot like fear flickered through Brock’s eyes as he parted his lips to speak, like he was about to plead for his life. Stupid fucker.
But Nic drew back. Just a tiny amount, maybe imperceptible to anyone else, but I saw it. I knew him. He was relenting. His principles were overriding his common sense. Damn him.
Damn fair king with an overinflated sense of right and wrong.
His moral code was almost unshakeable. I shook my head.
He’d let Francois live, too. Francois who’d kidnapped his mate and killed her father…
None of us really understood that. I mean, Francois had been on dead man’s blood, but still.
Nic had overridden his instinct to kill the man who’d wronged his mate.
Overridden.
Fuck, Nic was one strong guy. He’d gone against an urge that must have nearly ripped him apart, and now he looked like he was about to show mercy to the man who’d tried to take his throne.
After a quick check that the rest of the yard was truly under control, I focused my attention on Nic. This could all go bad very, very fast.
“Mercy,” Brock croaked out, and I scoffed. “Let me live. Have mercy, The New… Orleans… King. The old… King…”
Well, fuck. Brock was invoking Francois, too. But would Nic’s earlier act of leniency count against him now? Would it be seen as a weakness? I was ready if Brock was about to try anything.
Nic nodded sharply, just one swift movement. “You can live. But it won’t be as a free man.” He intoned the words with the weight of justice.
It was his justice. As King of Baton Rouge and New Orleans, his word was law.
He had dungeon cells in Baton Rouge where it looked like Brock was about to be housed.
Nic had everything under control, and I directed two more of my men to help secure Brock. Now that he was still alive — I grimaced again as the full weight of Nic’s decision hit me — we needed to be sure that Brock couldn’t endanger anyone else.
When there were enough vampires around Brock to take care of anything he could dish out, I looked to the rest of the yard and the clean-up and sighed. This was the worst part. Always the fucking worst part.
So much wasted life, so much wasted opportunity.
It was bad enough when it was humans, but at least their corpses on a bloody battlefield didn’t risk vampire discovery.
I beckoned to Jason, and he jogged to my side, his face grim.
“Clean-up?” he asked, but he already knew.
He’d handled clean-up for Nic for years, knew the best methods and the best places.
“There are a lot of them to dump at once.” He sucked air between his teeth like a tradesman quoting a price on a big job.
I didn’t say anything, falling back on the silence to do the work.
“But I think I can do it,” he finished.
“As usual,” I said.
He grinned, his eyes lighting with warmth for a moment. “Yeah, as usual.”
I clapped him on the shoulder and moved behind him, signaling to the nearest men to follow me into the house.
“We need to see if there’s anything in here that’s useful.
” I directed them inside. “Work through methodically, turning out drawers, emptying cupboards and closets. Be careful of survivors. They could act against you in fear, or they could act against you out of belief in their cause.” I issued my instructions on autopilot.
This wasn’t my men’s first rodeo. They didn’t need to hear how to do their jobs.
I stepped back out onto the deck to send more men into the outbuildings, unsure what we’d find. The last time I’d been inside one, it was a makeshift prison.
Somewhere nearby, Brock cackled, and I turned toward the sound, watching as some of my guys dragged him over the ground so they could arrange his journey to Baton Rouge.
They weren’t sparing his pain, but he laughed again anyway, and then he raised his gaze to me before beckoning with just his forefinger.
I scoffed and shook my head. He thought he had that much power over me? Then I chuckled. Hell, what did it matter? Brock was pretty much a condemned man. Damned to spend the whole rest of his fucking immortal life at Nic’s pleasure.
I could listen to a few last words. I sauntered in his direction — in no hurry to get there and wanted to make sure he knew it.
He laughed again as I neared him, the sound setting me on edge. He really was one unbalanced motherfucker.
“Kyle? It is actually Kyle, right? No false name for your false story?”
I pressed my lips together and looked past him. I wasn’t here for a friendly chat.
“Where’s Esmé?” He was asking me that question? That made no sense.
She was his sireling.
Then every one of my muscles tightened at his words, and I felt for my bond with Sam. The adrenaline of the fight must have drowned her out, and now she was almost too weak to register.
Weak and scared.
Everything in me chilled, and I took off running, Brock’s laughter echoing through my head and the rest of the yard.