The trip back to the regency hadn’t been a long drive, but it had been the longest he had felt worthless; it wasn’t the death of a team member that had gotten him to this state, not even taking Evans life after his turn. It was in fact that he was gunning to rescue Willow and the minutes wasted going back to the regency would have been more worthwhile in actually going to save her. He hadn’t felt like this for many years, but at one stage in his life, it was all he had ever felt. Geezer slunk to the side of the cold metal floor still clutching the rifle and looked into the worried faces of his teammates.
Growing up in London as a privileged child to a wealthy banker had found him at a loss when his father was arrest and charged with theft. His father thought he had devised an undetectable way of stealing the decimal money left over from transactions; he had been transferring these inconsequential amounts to an anonymous account, but his activities hadn’t gone unnoticed. With no mother or father and no money, he became a placement in the public fostering system.
After numerous homes, he had finally run away to live on the streets of London. One night a young, cold and homeless Geezer had witnessed a murder. Not just any back street butchery but the assignation of a highly respected member of parliament. The assassin didn’t count on a spectator that night, and he defiantly didn’t rely on introducing an intrigued young man to the dark world of contract killings. It had been a hard life choice, but something about killing came easily to the young orphan. It had been only a few steps from contract killing to the recruitment of the Regency.
After the event of the night, Abel had been frantic to go and rescue his daughter, but the Blood Banes had cautioned that they had already lost too many men and needed reinforcements. They had stopped briefly at the Regency to tell the Regent what had transpired and to rearm themselves for the rescue. The Regent had gone white as a sheet when Abel had told him the news and had sent all his men with the Blood Banes. Now four trucks full of armed Regency men and women hurtled down the road.
The Trucks eventually screeched to a stop, and the Regency unloaded on to the sidewalk. The contingent contained Three well-decorated army captains that had found emotional advantages within the organization, having lost loved ones to the supernaturals that walked the earth.
Pedestrians stopped to watch the elite force file out the back of the trucks and surround the dark wooden door to Allium. Thier mundane activities lost as they speculated about what was happening. Some suggested a bomb scare or terrorist plot, but none could begin to comprehend what waited in the club below.
The soldiers piled down the stairs into the club like a wave of retribution, within the club they fanned out from the door, some knelt while others poised over their heads aiming semi-automatics loaded with garlic tipped bullets. Only they didn’t find an army of the undead waiting for them but just one vampire standing leisurely on the polished club floor. Constantine smiled and raised a blood-red glass into the air, gone was his t-shirt and denim jeans replaced by a majestic robe of green trimmed with white.
“Ah, my friends you have made it. Good good, now we can begin.”
Abel fought down the bile rising in his throat. He took a step towards Constantine, and the vampire held up a hand.
“Ah ha. Not one step closer.”
A twinkle in his eye stopped Able’s next step as he reached into the folds of the robe and bent down to the floor. In one fluid movement, he slid a phone toward Abel and stood up.
“What the hell is that and where is my daughter?”
“If you care to pick it up you might find out.”
Abel reached down and picked up the phone, the screen was dark, but at his touch, it lit up to a screen saver of a sunrise. Abel swiped the screen to find a live feed of his shackled daughter straining against her bonds. Abel squeezed the phone, and it crumpled in his hand.
“Damn you, Constantine, you’ve gone too far this time, if it’s war the Yarl want then its war he will get.”
“Tyr? Oh, my dear boy. Tyr doesn’t know about this, how could he. He would never endanger his empire. He just sits on that nasty throne of his procrastinating about the agreement and never does anything about it.” Constantine continued conversationally.
“When I first met him, oh my what a man, what a vampire. The destruction he would wrought was breathtaking. When he wanted something, he would never stop until it was in his hands, just like my heart, but now, well let’s just say he’s grown old and weak.”
“Where is she, Constantine? I mean it.”
Constantine chuckled and reached into the folds of his robes again, the Blood Banes shifted nervously, and Geezer took a step forward. The vampire held out a small black box with a red button on it and glanced at the Englishmen.
“Ah my little British bulldog, I’m so glad you could attend I have something special in mind for you.”
Constantine pushed the button, and a loud thud echoed down from the staircase as the front doors slammed shut. The soldiers looked around trying to place a loud whirring noise, a moment late, ten heavy looking metal cages descended from the darkness of the ceiling as a door behind the bar opened up, and a stream of vampires came through.
Abel turned and looked behind as a series of growls reverberated in the staircase, some of the Blood Banes shifted their positions, and some pulled at magazines strapped to their side and reloaded their weapons. A man in a bearskin cape and beige cotton robe graciously stepped off the last step and smiling wickedly.
“I hope I am not too late?”
Constantine clapped his hands together and smiled broadly.
“Ah, Ivor so good of you to make it. Now that we are all here I believe we can begin.”
“God damn it, what fucking game are you playing. Where’s my daughter?”
Constantine waved a hand at Abel apathetically as he glanced at the attendees.
“I have brought you here to negotiate the terms of our agreement. And, as for your daughter, she is merely collateral. You know how it is I’m sure.”
Abel sighed but didn’t lower his sword, the vampires at Constantine’s back smirked and pointed to the Blood Banes like they were picking out their targets to toy with them.
“If you want to renegotiate the agreement then you need to talk to the Regent, not me.”
Ivor laughed as four large werewolves ducked under the door frame growling. Their heads were lost to the darkness of the ceiling, although the yellow glow of their eyes and the greenish saliva that dripped from their fangs could still be seen.
“You’re not so smart for someone who has lived a hundred lifetime ah? Do you not know why you don’t see my son or daughter here?”
Geezer cocked his head to one side and eyed up the old Russian, the bearskin was impressive, and he wondered if he could get one for himself.
“How the fuck are we suppose to tell when you are all just as fucking ugly as each other.”
Ivor lost his smile and stared back at the insult.
“You will die first,” he switched to Abel and continued his monolog.
“This is not a negotiation; this is an eradication. Very soon the Regent will be dead, my children will see to that, and then I will become like a god. The only thing that can stop me is you.”
The werewolves lunged forward, and the vampires jumped into the fray as Constantine, and Ivor sunk behind their warriors to watch from the darkness.
Gunfire erupted in loud claps that deafened them in the confined space. Abel and Geezer choose to wield swords rather than guns and used them to their maximum. Vampires that were hit with the blades instantly exploded into dust, and the werewolves found that their limbs soon became part of the carnage of the once polished floor.
Many of the Blood Banes didn’t survive the initial clash; their bodies lay crumpled and mutilated at their feet. The Blood Banes had only had time to switch some of their guns to silverpoint bullets, so the vampire diminished quicker, soon the remaining vampires fled as cowardice replaced their arrogance. As the tide of the battle slowly started to turn Ivor looked through the fight with a worried expression, the naked remains of this pack lay scattered across the floor. He glanced up to where is conspirator was, only to find that Constantine had already fled.
Anger clutched his heart and throat as he turned to the stairs, his family had paid with their lives for nothing, at the first sign of trouble the vampires had fled. He would see that treacherous bastard again and make him pay.
Able panted hard and wiped the perspiration from his brow, only then did he notice the long gash down his arm; a sickly burning sensation assaulted his throat as the vomit inducing smell of the bloodbath reached his nose. Captian Gomez slammed a knife hilt up and under the rib cage of a werewolf that had taken a bite of a soldiers neck, killing the beast instantly. He sat back sluggishly as the exhaustion of the battle took it toll.
He glanced around at Abel and smiled weakly. Out of the 40 men and women that had fought with him, only ten remained. The toll was a heavy one for Abel to bear, and even more, so that he now understood what had transpired. This whole scam had been engineered by Constantine to rid them of the confinement of their agreement. But why Cain was involved was unclear, he wasn’t one to take orders and certainly not one to follow them either. However, Abel knew one thing for sure.
He searched the floor steeping over mangled bodies and severed limbs and crouched down by a young female of no more than 21. She is only a few years older than Willow he thought. Slowly turning her over he pulled out the crumpled phone from her back. The glass screen was broken, but when he swiped at the screen, Willow could still be seen. Abel stroked the screen and noticed that his daughter’s mouth seemed to be forming the same words over and over again. He clicked the volume button on the side of the phone and Willow’s voice became louder.