Read The Blood Order (Fanghunters Book Two) Online
Authors: Leo Romero
The Blood Order (Fanghunters Book Two)
THE BLOOD ORDER
FANGHUNTERS BOOK TWO
LEO ROMERO
Copyright © 2016 Leo Romero
Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.
Cover art by Lou Harper © 2016
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PART ONE
CHAPTER ONE
L
eviah still hadn't slept.
The nights, and the days, had blended into one long repetitive sequence of boredom and apathy. He'd forgotten how long he'd been waiting for the darkness. A century? Two? Three? A part of him was already convinced the prophecies were a lie; a cruel joke just to keep him plodding along with his laborious existence. When would it end? Would it even end?
He released a languid sigh as he poured himself a glass of blood from the bottle on the table ahead of him. With a more contented sigh, he picked up his glass and leaned back in his leather recliner to take in the heady aromas of his drink. He nosed a good measure of sub-Sahara African, laced with peasant Arabic, with just a hint of regal interloper thrown into the mix. A delectable combination. A drink of rarest quality. A real delight.
He savored the scent, appreciating the good things about his existence. It helped stir the optimistic side of him. Despite the drudgery, a new spark of hope had recently been ignited within him. A new plan was afoot. One in the final stages of development. And this time it just had to work. It had to be the one that finally heralded the darkness. Surely, this time.
But, as always, something unrelated occurred, throwing the proverbial spanner in the cogs of his Order's master plan.
Drake.
The name was like poison on his lips. Just when things were looking up, along came Drake and his treachery. Leviah had a suspicion Veronica was involved in his two-facedness; it was her who originally brought Drake into the fold. But, he couldn't be sure. All he knew was that because of Drake's actions, there would be more waiting. And that meant more apathy. He shook his head in disappointment. His eyes then fell on the glass in his hand.
At least he still had blood to enjoy.
He smiled and put the glass up to his lips. Just as he did, the elevator to his chamber pinged and the doors slid open, the fluorescent light from inside spilling out into the darkened building floor. Ensconced inside was Sammy the Saint, much to Leviah's deep chagrin. He watched on from his recliner with sullen, apathetic eyes, tapping the armrest with his slender fingers in a disjointed, passionless concerto. The occupants of the elevator stepped out into the room; apart from Sammy, Leviah didn't recognize the others. Nor did he care. Instead, he drank blood, enjoying the myriad of lifelines swarming over his tongue, the sensation transporting him all the way back to the desert incarceration, the sweat of the slaves a delight on his taste buds.
"Hey, Pops," Sammy said in greeting, and Leviah was unceremoniously sucked through the void of DNA memory back into the dreary chamber he was confined to. He opened his black eyes and laid them on the people standing ahead of him. Their ordinariness was infectious.
He placed his glass down on the table in a lethargic fashion, then leaned back in his seat. Under the dimmed fluorescent lights, he took on a blue tinge, devoid of life. His thick
-
set jaw, which was home to some of the meanest fangs in all vamp society, jutted outward. His brooding eyes burned with impatience. "Yes, Sammy, what is it?" he asked with a labored sigh.
"We've found Drake," Sammy answered with what appeared to be a glint of excitement in his eye. Leviah was far too old to feel excitement; it was a trivial state of being, one that inevitably led to disappointment.
He placed an elbow on the arm of his recliner and used the first two fingers of his hand to prop up his head by the temple. "So, where is he?"
"Dead."
"That's unfortunate," Leviah replied with a frivolous shrug. "And the relic?"
Sammy's eyes began rolling. "Er..."
"You
did
retrieve the relic from him, didn't you?"
"We had a snag," Sammy finally said.
"A snag?"
"Yeah," replied Sammy, wringing his hands. "When we made it to his nest, he was
vamos
."
Leviah released an agitated huff.
So much for excitement.
"So, what you're telling me is you lost him."
"Not exactly."
Leviah rubbed his eyes. "My patience is not the best tonight, Sammy..."
"Someone else snuffed him!" Sammy blurted. "They bagged his body
and
the Eye."
Leviah's eyes snapped open. He frowned. "Who?"
"I think maybe these guys can tell you." Sammy cocked his thumb over his shoulder at the three blood sacks cowering behind him. They were disheveled and nervous.
Leviah could smell the perfume of fear on them. They reeked. "Come," he said, ushering them with a tired flip of his hand.
At first they were reluctant, the fear gripping them. They were taking nervous glances at the exotic torture devices stationed around the chamber. Leviah liked that; it was a pleasant appetizer to their suffering.
Sammy then grabbed one by the scruff of his shirt and shoved him forward. "The boss wants to speak with you!" he sneered.
The blood sack came to a halt ahead of Leviah; he stood before him, his head bowed, his shoulders shuddering. "Y-y-yes,
highness
," he said in a jittery voice.
Leviah rolled his eyes. "What's your name, child?" he then asked with a huff.
"Marlon." He turned back to the other two. "That's Craig and Jeff."
"Were you all Drake's brood?"
Marlon glanced to the side. "Yeah, I guess."
"Tell me what happened to him."
Marlon met Leviah's stare for the first time. "Someone came," he said. "Someone came to kill him."
Leviah remained unmoved. "And did you see them?"
Marlon's nod was fervent. "Yeah."
"How many?"
"Two. A guy and a girl."
Leviah glanced at Sammy, who nodded in return. Some semblance of urgency overcame Leviah; he clicked his fingers and pointed over to the desk in the middle of the room, which was strewn with empty bottles, guns, knives, and various pieces of communications tech. Sammy rushed over, picked up a tablet, and flicked it on. He began touching the screen as he approached the now eager Leviah. Once Sammy found what he was searching for, he turned the screen towards Leviah for him to see. Leviah gave him a brief nod, then pointed toward Marlon.
Sammy went and showed him the screen. "Is this the girl you saw?" Sammy asked, showing him an image of the Dentist's daughter.
Marlon craned his neck forward and squinted his eyes. He stared at the screen for a few seconds, his mind working over. Then, his eyes widened. "Yeah!" he said with a positive nod. "That's her!"
"You're sure?" Leviah asked, his brow furrowed in concern.
Marlon carried on nodding. "Absolutely, no doubt, man. I'll never forget that bitch. Who is she?"
"She's not your concern," Leviah told him.
"You
are
gonna smoke her
,
though, right?" Marlon asked, looking from Sammy to Leviah and back again with wide, eager eyes.
Leviah and Sammy exchanged glances once more. "She'll be dealt with appropriately."
"Good, cause I'm still hurting from what that bitch did to me!" Marlon rubbed his jaw as he spoke.
Leviah sighed in irritation. "You said there was a man as well."
Marlon faced him. "Yeah, he was already there before she came. I was about to take care of him when she jumped in and saved him."
Leviah caught Sammy's stare and then pointed at the tablet. Sammy began swiping and touching once more. Soon, he was nodding. He glanced at Leviah.
"Is this him?" Leviah asked while Sammy now showed him an image of the Dentist; the slayer of the old Order.
Marlon frowned, his mind working once more. Leviah scrutinized him; he expected at any moment to see a spark of recognition ignite in his eyes. But there was nothing, just a blank stare.
Marlon's mouth turned downward. "No," he said. "That dude's too old. The other guy was younger. A lot younger."
"A younger man?" Leviah echoed. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure," Marlon said with a vehement nod as if insulted. "I wouldn't have had a problem taking out the old guy, would I? It was a young dude; big, strong, difficult to take down. And I would've done if it wasn't for the bitch that shot me up with tranq."
"Yes, yes, yes," Leviah said with a flip of his hand. "You've informed us ad nauseam." He then fell back in his seat
. A younger man with the Dentist's daughter? A partner? A new apprentice of the Dentist? Someone to concern the Order?
"And what about you two?" Sammy asked the other two blood sacks, who were standing in the background, silent.
They both shook their heads. "No, it was a younger dude," one of them said in a timid voice. "Without doubt."
Leviah mulled what he was hearing with some concern.
Who was this new foe? What role did he play alongside the slayer and his daughter? Was he a danger? More complications.