Coalition of the Damned - 03 (21 page)

“Roger that, sir.”

“Make sure that our guests understand that we’ll be leaving at sunup. Mr. Thorn needs to make arrangements,” Matt said. “I don’t know if he has something that is light proof that he can be flown in or…”

“I’ll see to it.”

*****

Paul Foster hung up his phone and turned to his enforcers. “Pack up everything. We are leaving this area and heading to Nevada. Our Master will be texting us GPS coordinates to a mi
litary base. As soon as we get them, send them out to
everyone
and inform them to get there as soon as possible. Time is of the essence.”

The enforcer nodded then turned toward the trailer where Damien had been locked away. “What of him?”

Foster’s shoulders slumped and he stepped over to the trailer. He placed a hand against it. “He has been silent for how long?”

“Days,” the enforcer replied.

“Get him out and check on him. If he is still…unstable, destroy him,” Foster said quietly.

The enforcer opened the trailer and Foster stepped back, holding a hand to his nose. The stench of the dead woman’s body was nearly overpowering. Damien sat in the far corner of the trailer cradling what was left of her corpse in his lap. He held a hand over his eyes to block the dim light that came from the open double doors. Foster stepped to the rear opening and peered into the gloom. “Are you calmed down?”

Damien looked up at his maker and held the woman’s skull in his hands. “She won’t wake up,” he sobbed.

“Of course she won’t. She’s dead,” Paul stated flatly. “You killed her.”

Damien slowly stood on wobbly legs and the woman’s corpse slid away from his lap, her skull still in his hands. He looked down at the rotting remains and simply stepped over them, firmly grasping her skull in his hands.

“Damien, we need the trailer. You can come out if you’ll be good, otherwise, I’ll have you put down like an untrustworthy dog. Do you understand me?” Foster stated matter-of-factly.

“Yes,” Damien replied softly.

“Come on then.”

Foster noted the lack of flesh on the corpse and the apparent bite marks about the bones. “Did you eat her flesh, Damien?”

“Only parts of it.”

“You do realize that only ghouls eat the flesh of the dead.”

“She wasn’t dead to me.” He looked into Paul’s eyes. D
amien’s eyes were searching for some unseen meaning but Paul saw nothing behind his. Damien’s eyes were void of that spark that indicated that he was still there.

“How much of her did you eat?” he asked, not sure he really wanted to know the answer.

“The naughty bits. And the fleshy bits. And some of the crunchy bits,” he said with a smile that never reached his dead eyes.

Foster cringed inwardly but allowed no outwardly showings of his emotions. He knew that Damien’s mind was as close to being lost as he could be and not be retrievable. It was said that when vampires feasted on dead flesh rather than blood, they b
ecame ghouls and ghouls were just a half step above zombies both in intellect and in actions. They lost their minds, their abilities and their taste for blood. They’d sometimes be found digging up corpses in graveyards, especially those graveyards that catered to the religions that frowned upon embalming since formaldehyde would sour their stomachs.

Damien staggered toward the rear of the trailer and bits of the young woman fell from him with each step with a wet and sickly plop and stuck to the trailer floor. Damien’s feet squished through various mucks and blood and shit and intestinal fluids and the flies were horrendous. Paul noticed maggots clinging to his clothes and crawling slowly about in his hair. His own dead flesh shouldn’t be prone to maggots, but if he became a ghoul, then all bets were off.

Foster helped Damien step down from the trailer and nearly gagged at the dead flesh clinging to his clothing and the rot and blackened goo dripping from him.

“Get him to a bath and burn his clothes,” he ordered. He pointed to the inside of the trailer. “Dispose of…
that
. And pressure wash the inside of the trailer. We’ll be needing it, and I don’t want anything of mine put in there. Use bleach if you have to. But get rid of the smell.” He fought back a gag. “It smells like a horde of zombies were in there.”

He walked Damien to the rear of the warehouse and had two of his female vampires prepare him a bath. Damien did not want to give up the skull in his hands and Paul had to promise that they were going to wash it for him and make it pretty. Damien acted as though his psyche was very damaged and Foster treated him with kid gloves. He whispered to one of the women, “Boil that skull, strip it of all flesh and then acid wash it. Buff and polish it if you have to, but make it shine for him.” He turned to another of the females who were about to strip down and scrub Damien, “As soon as he is cleaned up and dressed, get some blood into him. Maybe if we can get some fresh hemoglobin into his system, we can salvage what’s left of his mind.” She merely nodded as she continued to undress.

Foster wasn’t exactly sure why he was trying to keep Damien alive any longer. With his father dead, his connections in Washington were limited, but he had this nagging feeling that Damien would be important one day and keeping him alive would be in his best interests. He couldn’t put his finger on why he felt this way, it just seemed like the right thing to do at the time. As he watched the damaged vampire stagger off to be scrubbed clean and made presentable, he wondered if he weren’t making a big mistake keeping the little bastard alive.

The text came in from Rufus and Paul studied the coord
inates. He forwarded them to his enforcers who in turn forwarded the information to all the vampires in their legion. Word was spreading as fast as electronics could forward it. By the end of the night, every vampire in their army knew where to assemble, and they had less than twenty-four hours to be there. For those who were stateside, it shouldn’t be an issue. For those traveling from overseas, it might be slightly problematic, but they would do what they had to.

Plans were made and blood was stored for the journey and upcoming battles. Weapons were forged and armor fitted. Va
mpires and familiars made ready to either kill or die trying, and most weren’t even sure what their cause was. They knew only that their masters ordered them to make ready and lay life and limb on the line for blood honor, and each was more than willing to do so.

*****

Viktor stormed into Natashia’s room as she finished packing her few belongings. She had only arrived when she was sent back out to find Max, with the intent of gleaning information to point her in the direction of Claudius Maximus Veranus, but her things had been somewhat scattered as she had repacked for her trip to Europe and now she found herself trying to get her things ready to move once more. Viktor allowed the heavy door to slam into the wall as he entered the room, his breathing coming in huffs and his eyes, dark.

“Why didn’t he tell me?” he growled.

“I’m assuming you mean your father,” Natashia responded as she continued to refold and pack her belongings.

“Of course I mean Max. Who else would I be speaking of?” he barked.

“Perhaps you should ask him rather than barge in here and yelp at me like a wounded pup,” she snapped.

Viktor’s eyes narrowed at her. He was used to her speaking her mind with him, but never with such a sharp tongue had she ever lashed back at him, especially when he was obviously so angry.

“What did you just say?” he growled slowly at her.

She turned and gave him a droll look. “I’m quite certain you heard me, my love.” She placed her hands on her hips and stared him down, daring him to move against her. “All of this time you’ve held nothing but animosity towards your father when he expected you to step up and take your rightful place amongst the pack.”

“You know I couldn’t do that,” he said through gritted teeth.

She leveled her stare at him, her eyes slowly turning amber. “You could have if you truly wanted to reign,” she said. “You chose to allow your mother to maintain control. You allowed a
bitch
to be alpha of the pack and you tucked tail when she branded you
outcast
.”

Viktor’s eyes widened with shock at what his Tasha had just said to him. It was as if she were channeling his mother. He couldn’t believe his own ears to hear such things from her mouth. “How could you expect me to stand against my own—”

“I’d expect you to be the Alpha!” she practically screamed. “You are a Lycan of the First Order!” she demanded, slamming her fist against the table. “You should have stood up to her as your father intended.”

Viktor felt her knock the wind from his sails. He couldn’t believe what was coming from his own mate. She had surely turned against him. It had to be Max’s doings. The time they spent together had poisoned her mind, turned her heart against him. He shook his head as he backed away from her toward the door.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about—” he started to say just as he backed into someone solid. He turned to find Max standing in the doorway, watching the two of them. “What are you doing here?” he growled.

“She’s wrong, you know,” Max said softly.

“What are you talking about?” Viktor asked, stepping away from him and backing into a corner where he could keep a watchful eye on both Max and Tasha.

“Tasha,” Max answered. “She’s wrong.” Max shrugged as he entered the room and pulled a chair to him and sat in it. “I never expected Victoria to turn against you, nor did I expect that she would go against my orders.”

“What difference does it make now?” Viktor asked, his voice a mix of hate and despair.

Max shook his head and turned his eyes to the floor. “Son, you’ve always been so damned proud, but you simply can’t see the forest for all of the trees, can you?”

“Make sense, old man,” Viktor growled.

“Oh, you don’t want to challenge me with your growl,” Max said. “I may have tried being a pacifist, but if I’m about to go back into war, I’m not going to roll over and show my stomach to anyone, least of all you.” Max gave an evil smile, daring his son to try something. “Remember who
trained
the Lycan, my boy.”

“How am I wrong?” Tasha asked. “What else could he have done then if not stand against Victoria?”

“He could have challenged her, yes. But he need not destroy her.” Max said. “To meet a challenge doesn’t mean you have to kill to win.”

“But it’s written—” Tasha interrupted.

“No, it’s not,” Max cut her off. “Who told you this?”

“Victoria,” Tasha answered.

Max threw his head back and laughed heartily. “She played you, son!” he practically yelled. “She knew that you wouldn’t kill her, so she convinced you that you would have to kill her to remove her from power.” He shook his head again. “I think when next you two meet, perhaps you should take her up on her offer and see how quickly she backs down.”

“And if she chooses another to act as her proxy?” Viktor asked.

Max’s eyes narrowed on him and his lip curled. “Then do what you have to do, but take that which is rightly yours,” he snarled. “Then beat your mother’s ass and teach her a lesson.”

“Won’t you be coming back to the pack with us once this is done?” Tasha asked.

Max stared off for a bit and then shook his head. “No. My time leading the pack is done,” he answered softly. “I have other interests now.”

They sat in silence for a few moments before Viktor spoke, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Max asked. “That I’m Claudius Veranus?”

“Yes.”

He smiled at him. “And what would you have done had you known?”

Viktor thought a moment and shook his head. “I don’t know. But I still feel that I should have known who you were…who I am. Who
we
are.”

“We are wolves, son. Where we come from…makes little difference. It’s what we do with ourselves that makes us the men, and the wolves of legend,” Max said. “You can live your life as quietly or as grandly as you choose. You know the risks of both. The quieter you live your life, the longer you may be allowed to live and the more mundane your existence. The grander you live your life, the more you run the risk of being hunted down by others with little understanding and the greater your risk of being killed.” He stood and placed the chair back and turned for the door. “As for me? I choose to live my life keeping the balance. God has placed me here to keep the Sicarii in his place. I am the Sentinel. I am the Captain of the Guard of the
Legio X Fretensis
and I keep watch to ensure that, should he rise and threaten the world, the hand of God is ready to smite him back to his proper place.”

“And who is there to keep you in your place?” Viktor asked.

Max smiled at him and gave him a wink. “You are, my son. You are.”

*****

Jack was shaken awake from a very restful sleep and looked up to see Kalen rousing him. The common building was practically glowing from the unearthly light outside that must be what passes for early morning daylight in this dimension. He felt as though he had slept for ten hours and his body almost ached from the too long slumber. He stretched, listening to his joints protest and pop. He peered about the room as the rest of his squad woke and gathered their gear.