Fangs of Fate (Untish #1)

Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

CHANCE

The assembly had been a rough one. Lucas was barely alive when we dragged him up to the assembly floor for his sentencing. The fact that he also was responsible for a councilman’s death had my teeth on edge. My gut said I was missing something. This young vampire withstood all the torture and not once relented any viable information; he walked, miraculously, to his death sentence—head high.

I’ve only ever seen that with soldiers who believed in their cause. That was what felt so wrong. If Lucas was willing to die for his cause, then the impending Vamp war was going to be a bloodbath, and not the kind I enjoyed.

I cleared my way through the crowded city streets and headed toward the nearest human district. It was only a twenty-minute walk for a vampire, but given my increased gift of speed, it took me less than ten. The outside of the human district resembled that of modern cities. Skyscrapers, suburbia, the modern sprawl of life. The humans who resided within the Glenn were guaranteed certain rights and were paid for their blood ‘donations’.

I pushed my way down a notably crowded street and headed for my favorite pub. I passed Patty’s on the right; the noise from within was nothing short of sex-crazed, drunken revelry. I wasn’t in the mood for a live feeding that ended in sensual pleasure. Glancing in, I noted several members of the guara engaged in feeding—their blood vessels perched on their laps with either their wrist or neck extended to their user. They’d better have their heads about them, even though I was leaving tomorrow evening, their drills were just about to double down. With war coming, they needed to be prepared, not drunk and horny.

I continued down the street until I saw Donavan’s. This was the closest thing to a pub the human district had to offer. Most places near the capitol highlighted their live feedings, but Donavan’s specialized in bloodwine and red beer. Just the right amount of nourishment and liquor to calm my nerves tonight. I stepped into the dim lighting. The wooden floor was worn from use and matched the beams on the ceiling that were cast in a warm glow from the torches on the walls. That was another thing that made Donavan’s unique, they were permitted to have fire. This was, as most knew, because Donavan’s was actually owned and run by some local vampires who commuted to the human district to run their business.

I headed to a solitary chair and table in the back when a whistle caught my attention. Turning to the left, I noted Dux Holland and Dux Phillips, the latter with his finger between his fangs as he finished his call to me. Like I’m a damn dog. Fuck ‘em.

I sighed; I supposed I needed to engage with them since they spotted me. I changed trajectories and took the last remaining seat at their table. It was still secluded, but closer to the stage currently occupied by a human girl and her guitar. She was painfully off-key.

“Didn’t expect to see you here tonight, Dale?” Phillips raised an eyebrow in question.

“Even the best of us need a break, Phillips. What are you drinking?”

“Help yourself,” Holland responded as she pushed her cup over to me, the pitcher in the middle of the table followed next. It smelled like mulled wine and was warm. I lifted it to my lips; the fresh taste of iron and berries hit my lips. Mmm, they splurged for the good stuff.

“So, what do you think we’re going to find in the Southern Outpost?” Holland asked, her stern face at odds with her stature. She was small, petite even, but evidently was gifted enough in skill or magic that she landed the rank of dux.

“The traitorous bastards I hope,” I replied, stating the obvious.

“Shouldn’t be hard. I’ve heard you’re the one who they call in to break the tough cases.” Phillips winked, his words starting to slur. Clearly, he’d been here long enough to get drunk.

“We’ll see. Traitors can be difficult to sniff out and even when caught, if they believe in their cause, they may never break.” The image of Lucas passing out from pain only to be reawakened to a new nightmare as Rusty skinned him filled my mind.

He was willing to die rather than give up any information. That was as scary as an approaching army. “If you are devoted to your mission, no amount of pain can break you. If you believe in the ‘why’, then the suffering you endure doesn’t matter.” I downed the glass of wine and refilled it from the pitcher. It was a thick sludge, and slowly filled into the cup.

“You think Lucas had something to do with the recent breach in the Outposts?” Holland asked, her light brown eyes far keener than I liked.

“That’s classified,” I responded, finishing my cup in three long swigs before refilling. Phillips motioned to the serving girl for another round.

“ Mmm . Classified.” Holland’s eyes pierced through me. “I know you don’t know me well Dale, but if we’re supposed to work together in the Southern Outpost’s breach investigation, I hope we can learn to trust one another.” What she didn’t say, her face told me. She would learn my secrets whether I wanted her to or not. I felt compelled to tell her my deep dark secrets, to talk and spill my guts. My tongue began to loosen.

“I—”

The pressuring sensation abruptly vanished as the server appeared. Magic, Holland undoubtedly possessed magic.

“Here’s another pitcher. We do have some fresher selections tonight, duxes, if you are interested.” She inclined her head to the door right behind the stage. The VIP lounge, with live vessels no doubt.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Phillips said as he got up and sauntered over toward the door, his path anything but straight. A small twinge of pity passed through me for the vessel—vampires were not gentle feeders when drunk.

“Place is pretty busy tonight.” I nodded to the packed tables. Normally Donavan’s was a bit less crowded as most vampires preferred live feeds if they came to the human district, and unless you had stature, the VIP lounge here was inaccessible.

“Yeah, Monty’s closed down recently due to…uh, staffing issues,” Joanne, the server, responded. Her face was taut and hand shaky as she picked up the empty pitcher.

“Staffing issues?” Holland asked, her eyebrow raising. A gentle intrinsic pressure flitted past me and smothered Joanne.

“Y-yes,” Joanne stammered. “People have gone missing. Monty’s lost all its servers in the past month.” Her eyes bugged out and the sensation ended. She backed from the table hastily and excused herself.

“Was that really necessary?” I asked, seeking to understand Holland more than question her use of magic on a human.

“I like to know what I’m dealing with.” She shrugged. “And if my favorite bagged blood establishment is getting crowded, that’s a threat to my leisure. I like to eliminate threats.” Her words were weighted in meaning.

New respect filled me for Holland. She may be small, but she certainly wasn’t afraid of me and didn’t give a damn about my connection to President Dale. It was refreshing.

“So, Dux Dale, are we going to be able to effectively partner on this mission?”

“I believe so, Dux Holland ,” I said her name with finesse and gave her a wink which apparently startled her as she moved back an inch.

A smile pulled at my mouth, so she did get shy, but it had nothing to do with war or espionage. No, something told me Dux Holland was reserved in her personal life and perhaps hasn’t had much experience in the bedroom. “Dating anyone?”

That earned an uncomfortable gulp from Holland.“I don’t see how that’s relevant.” She shifted in her chair before downing the rest of her bloodwine.

“Well, if we are to trust one another when trying to find our mole, I think personal relations can be important information.” While I meant what I said, in truth, I enjoyed toying with her.

“I see. Then to answer your question, no, I’m not currently engaged in any such relations.” She poured more wine before tucking a honey-golden stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“Why not? You’re not bad looking, even if you’re a bit…stiff.” I noted her shoulder-length dishwater light brown hair, square face, and strong jaw. Not the most feminine features, and yet they worked for her. Her light brown eyes bored through me in a way few did…it was oddly attractive. As was her small stature that seemed to soften her harsh jawline, even if her nose did seem a bit puggy for her otherwise taut face.

“I’ll ask you to leave my personal appearance out of the equation,” she spat, bloody saliva landing on the table to the left of my hand. Charming.

“ Mmm , I think I see your problem,” I smirked.

Her hand reached across the table and grabbed my jacket, while her other palm held a razor to my throat. She was impossibly fast, or I was drunk, either way it was a turn - on.

“You don’t see anything. I’ve been underestimated my entire life, but I will not be made to feel inadequate.” She released me with a shove before settling back down across the table.

“You know, I find violence rather attractive.” I tilted the glass to the side in my hand, swirling the wine.

“ Pfft . Of course, you do.” She shook her head and crossed her arms, but she didn’t retract her blade.

“You know, we have four hours until curfew. I can think of some fun ways to pass it…” I was half joking, but if she was open to it, who was I to stop fate?

“I’d rather have glass in my eyes.” I guess that was a no. “Besides,” she continued, “I heard you had a thing for unhealthy females like Tate.” Hearing Tate’s name always elicited an unwelcome throbbing.

“Nope, I’ve finally cleaned my system from her.”

“I doubt that’s true, but for your sake, I hope it is.” Her tone changed from sharp to a serious deadpan.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing really, just rumors.”

“Such as?” I wasn’t one to play this game, I may not have magic, but I sure as hell got my answers.

“Just that her guardian, a Fletcher Mitchel, has been speaking of the Untish and breaking the law by discussing forbidden topics, myths really. Such a stupid thing to do if you ask me, it just gets you listed on the guara’s watchlist.”

“He’s not on the list.” I was certain I would have heard of it if he was.

“As of this afternoon, he is .”

Shit, I’d been so preoccupied by the interrogation I hadn’t noticed the updated list.“Well, like I said I’m not affiliated with Tate anymore so whatever nonsense Fletcher is spreading is of no concern to me. Let the guara do their job.”

“Right.” She snorted. “You know, Dale, I do hope we can learn to be honest in the future, our lives may come down to it.” She stood up and grabbed her coat from the chair, the shoulders making her small frame look boxy. “I’m calling it a night. I’ll see you tomorrow for the trip debriefing. Please, do me the honor of keeping me updated on any relevant changes.” With that, she strode out of the pub.

I sat there alone, Tate and Fletcher on my mind. I shouldn’t concern myself with Tate or her business. Still, if Fletcher was in trouble, it could reflect poorly on Tate, and given our history, I owed it to her to at least give her a heads-up. Or did I? The wine was making my thoughts a bit murky.

I either needed to order another or head back to the VIP lounge. After a moment of hesitation, I dropped several coins on the table, and headed for the black door that promised a blissful distraction.