Fratelli: The Awakening (The Vampire Cartel #1)

61. The Big Pay Back

Chapter 61

The Big Pay Back

B ellagio Casino, Las Vegas - Nevada

April 16, 2018

(5 Days Before Death)

The casino floor at the Bellagio buzzed with energy. The clatter of chips, the whirl of roulette wheels, and the low hum of excited chatter filled the air. Amidst the opulence and glamour, Lamont stood at the craps table, his eyes focused on the dice in his hand. The onlookers whispered among themselves, sensing his importance without knowing the true extent of his involvement in the underworld. Most were just drawn to his previous celebrity in hip-hop. Most a bit confused about his celebratory presence in Vegas when the news was broadcasting fans across the globe mourning the death of his partner.

Tristan walked through the crowd with his smooth stride and an air of unmistakable dominance. His half-Italian heritage mixed in with his golden blonde hair and piercing blue eyes gave him a striking appearance, and his presence too turned heads. He approached Lamont, then stopped at an unseen distance. His senses were peeking as his blue gaze swept the casino floor. He had cleaned out his casino for Lucio, but still the supernatural’s kept slipping in. And he knew one person was responsible for the breach—Shakespeare. Tristan took account of each unwanted wolf or guest mentally.

“Lamont,” Tristan greeted him. His voice a calm command into Lamont's thoughts. “Where’s the kid?”

Lamont glanced up momentarily, just as the dice fell from his fingers. The dice rolled and turned over a 5 and an 11.

“Winner! Winner! On the line!” shouted the stickman. Cheers erupted from the table and a few beauties jumped up and down with bouncing tits and wide grins. He didn’t see Tristan, but the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as if he’d spoken directly into his ear.

“Ah, he’s good,” Lamont replied in his head. “I got all of your men on him. He’s hosting a gamer con after-party. I’m supposed to pick him up in three hours.”

Tristan appeared. To his left. He glanced at the stack of chips pushed to Lamont and then at him. “Leave it. We need to go for a ride.”

“What? Man, I just hit?—”

Tristan walked off. Lamont had no choice but to follow. He called to the table and told the celebrity-struck crowd that the spoils were all theirs. Chaos immediately broke out as nearly ten people at once dove for his chips. Lamont cursed under his breath but hurried his steps to catch up. Without a word of complaint, Lamont fell in line at Tristan’s side.

Outside, the valet retrieved Shakespeare’s motorcycle for him. His Cajun roots ended in the 1940s, but every now and then he’d catch the sound of someone with the familiar dialect. Though the time of his past life was long past, it often sent a spear of nostalgia through him. Maybe that was why he was temporarily distracted and falling deeper into his dark thoughts. The fact that Tristan and Lucio now controlled the Bellagio, and Domencio ordered him to play along, only fueled his jealous rage.

He revved the engine with the turn of the bike handles; the power blasted fire out of the pipes as he rode out through the night without a helmet. The bike sped into the Vegas strip and swerved around the slow-moving traffic. He’d gotten a call from Sophie that she needed to see him. To meet her at the warehouse. It was new. She purchased it for more coverage downtown. She wanted to convert into a strip club. He needed a reprieve, so he agreed, even though Shakespeare knew it was bullshit. A night ride cleared his head. Because his mind seethed with thoughts of revenge.

From a side street, a sleek Bugatti shot out and nearly cut in front of him. It forced Shakespeare to react. He twisted the handlebars. The bike screeched as it swerved. He couldn’t stop in time. At top speed, the motorcycle crashed into a building. The impact would have killed a human, but Shakespeare, being a vampire, merely groaned in pain as he lay amidst the wreckage.

Tristan stepped out of the Bugatti with a predatory grace. Lamont, wide-eyed, was slow to do the same. His heart pounded so ferociously in his chest. He had never seen anything like this. Tristan walked over to the injured Shakespeare, his expression cold.

“You should’ve stayed down,” Tristan muttered right before he delivered a hard kick to Shakespeare’s already crushed skull. The force was so mighty Shakespeare skidded across the pavement. Tristan grabbed his enemy by the collar and hurled him into a nearby building. The concrete cracked and dented from the impact.

Lamont watched in shock as Tristan flew at him, grabbed his crumbled body up, and swept him into the air. Tristan’s flight was with impossible agility. He then torpedoed back down like a wrestler, jumping from the ropes into a ring with his opponent. He slammed Shakespeare into the ground with Hulk Hogan-like strength. The sound of bones crunching filled the air. Lamont winced and stumbled back; certain the vampire Shakespeare was dead. He was not. Shakespeare, with his vampire resilience, twitched in his contorted state and tried his best to regain enough control to heal and fight back. Maybe that was the secret to vampires defeating and killing each other, Lamont wondered. Maybe you had to always catch them off guard. He observed and learned.

“You fuck-boy! Instead of fighting me man to man, you want to play tit for tit. Do you think this makes us even? I’ll still piss on what’s left of you and Lucio when Domencio is through.” Shakespeare laughed, dark blood bubbling up from his mouth. A speeding pink corvette raced to the crime scene. Lamont feared the car wouldn’t stop. But it skidded to a complete stop while burning asphalt. A beautiful blonde woman, dressed in heels unnaturally high, and a hot-pink mini dress, was out of the car in a flash. She sped into the fight at superhuman speed and materialized between both men, facing Tristan, preventing him from going in on Shakespeare again. She pushed Tristan back.

“Stop it. You said you wanted to talk to him. That’s all. You said you two would work it out! What are you doing? This is stupid! We are family! You know, fighting like this goes against the order!”

Shakespeare healed himself during the reprieve, enough to sit up and focus on them both. “What did you say, Sophie? You set me up?”

Sophie looked back down at Shakespeare. “No. You two were supposed to meet me at my warehouse. I could hear this fight miles away. All I wanted was to get you both in the same place and end this war. For us to work this out.”

Tristan turned and started away from them both, headed toward the car. Lamont eased inside the vehicle. He could still hear Shakespeare raging on the blonde woman, calling her all kinds of obscenities. Shakespeare had healed enough to stand, barely. He shoved Sophie aside when she rushed to comfort him and dragged a broken leg as he went after Tristan. “We are not done! You hear me! This doesn’t end, motherfucker!”

Tristan stopped. He cast a look back. At first, Lamont thought he would walk away. He prayed he would walk away. Tristan did not. He turned with his hands in his pocket and let Shakespeare approach. His gaze was a blue fire as it swept over to Sophie and then back to Shakespeare. Tristan smiled. “Funny. That’s the same thing Sophie said last night, on her knees. Isn’t that right sweet, Sophie?”

Sophie froze. Shakespeare blinked in disbelief. He looked back to his paramour, a woman created for him, made for him. A woman who had been at his side for decades tending to an internal hurt he carried without complaint. The one thing Sophie was, consistently, was loyal. She took a step back in fear and guilt. “I can explain, darling. I only went to Tristan because I knew you were in trouble with the Fratelli for that fight you guys had in the desert. Things are getting out of control for all of us.” She crossed her arms and rubbed them as if chilled. “Something is coming. I told you, I have these visions, and I’m going to lose you. I won’t let that happen.”

“So, you fucked him?” Shakespeare asked.

“Many times,” Tristan chuckled.

“Shut up Tristan! Don’t lie to him! You know, I only did it to appease you, to make you soften to him. You used to be a fucking priest. Show some goddamn compassion.” She screamed at him with blood tears streaming down her pale face.

Tristan’s brows wiggled up and down with amusement.

“You fucking bitch!” Shakespeare said and stared at her in disbelief. “Him. Out of all the motherfuckers out there, all of them, you fucked him.”

“I’m sorry, I was desperate,” Sophie babbled.

“I see why you like her so much,” said Tristan.

Shakespeare charged at Tristan with tornado speed and pinned him down on the car, nearly half healed. Tristan laughed despite the menacing grip Shakespeare had on his throat. The laughter hurt far worse than any of the beating that Tristan had given him.

Defeated, Shakespeare let him go. He stumbled back and shook his head. “Phoenix thinks you’re some kind of innocent, deserving of rescue. But I’ve always seen the truth about you, Tristan. You’re just like Lucio. A fraud, a malignant fraud, that doesn’t deserve the Draca!”

When he turned, Sophie rushed him into a forced hug. Her vampiric strength made Shakespeare temporarily unable to push her away. She held onto him with all her might and spoke to him in Cajun, the way he had taught her years ago. Begged for him to forgive her and understand her desperation to give her body and soul away if it meant she saved him from himself.

There were many things Shakespeare tolerated from Sophie. He never cared if she fucked other vampires or even wolves. Their relationship was far past that level of jealousy. But she knew his reasons for his hatred of Lucio and, therefore, Tristan. It was too much. He shoved her off him and she went down on her butt, hard.

Shakespeare raged at the moon and shot up into the sky like a missile, leaving a weeping Sophie behind.

Lamont sat inside the car, enthralled by the drama, almost exhilarated. Was he getting used to these strange creatures and their insane behavior? Tristan returned and slid behind the wheel. When they drove from the crime scene, Tristan slowed his speed to look at a hurt and despondent Sophie. He smiled at her. She wiped her blood tears and smiled, then dropped her head in shame. Shaking his head, he drove away.

Tristan obeyed all traffic laws as they drove back toward the strip and the Bellagio. When he finally could summon a voice, Lamont spoke. “What was that about? Who is she?”

“That was unfinished business. And she is a young vamp who doesn’t know her worth.”

“Was she his girl? You fucked his girl man, dude is going to go crazy, on us both,” said Lamont.

“He’s already crazy,” Tristan remarked.

“Is it true? He said you were a priest. As in Catholic priest?” asked Lamont.

Tristan's gaze slipped over and then returned to the road.

“What kind of wicked shit is that? My family is catholic. How… how could that happen?” Lamont asked.

“There are many unexplainable things in the world. Consider this one of them. Never ask me that question again.” Tristan said. He reached in his dash for his hand-rolled cigarillo.

“I don’t get it. I thought you guys were invincible. That you are invincible. And why the fuck are you smoking weed, man? Can you even taste it?” Lamont asked.

“The motherfucker isn’t dead. He’ll survive,” Tristan mumbled, disregarding the rest of the question.

“Barely. And if his chick didn’t pull up, he would be. There is a way to kill you. Isn’t it?” Lamont asked.

Tristan continued to fiddle with the in-car lighter for his smoke. He didn’t respond.

“I mean, I’m not stupid enough to think I can do what you did to my man. But I just… fuck, I just got this thing that you were demons. And it’s impossible to kill demons. I didn’t think you guys would do that to one another. Like that la cosa nostra shit. You guys are family like she said.”Lamont said.

“Shit stinks in our world, and we vampires are at the top of that shit pile. You will dig into it, and figure it out. Best you learn that way. And remember…” Tristan said.

“Trust no one,” Lamont finished his statement. An oath that Tristan kept drilling in his head.

“Not even me, playa,” smirked Tristan.

Lamont chuckled. They coasted the rest of the way back to the hotel listening to his latest hip hop song. The duality of the supernatural and natural world, Lamont, now straddled, sank deeper than ever into his psyche. He had seen fights before, but nothing as brutal and wicked as what Tristan did to that piece of shit vamp who kept trying to spook him. The power and the savagery were commendable and personal. Lamont considered Shakespeare’s words about Tristan and Lucio. There is some serious beef between the three. It was beyond anything he could have survived.

“Shakespeare will be back on the scene in a few hours. And he will be in a mood. Do your best to avoid him.”

“Fuck man, he’s already stepped to me once.”

“I’m aware,” Tristan said and hit the button and let the top down on the Bugatti as he exhaled smoke from his slow drag of the herb into the night air. Lamont stared at him in disbelief. There was no way he used to be a catholic priest. He refused to believe it.

“Uh, bro, don’t want to sound like some simp, but, uh, shouldn’t we keep the top up?” Lamont looked up into the night sky. “I mean to say that motherfucker can fly. What if he wants some get back?”

“Not his style. He’ll heal and then make his next move. We’ve done this many times before.” Tristan yawned.

Lamont nodded, the lesson sinking in. He was in deeper than he had ever imagined, but now, more than ever, he understood the stakes. The underworld was a dangerous place, and survival required more than just courage—it demanded ruthlessness and a readiness to confront the darkest parts of newfound allies and enemies.

As the sleek Bugatti cruised through the neon-lit streets of Vegas, Lamont knew he was about to face challenges unlike any he had ever known. But with Tristan’s guidance, he was determined to carve out his place in this deadly game for power and survival.