Hunters

Chapter 12

Vlad watched the red stickers spread on the map of Canada, which finally took the aspect of an organized conglomerate. It had been hard replacing the heads of an entire country and reorganizing divisions and ranks, but after a week of hunting down those unfortunate enough to believe there was life for a vampire outside his control, everything was set in order.

It was a night for celebration. He would call on some of his brides later to complete the picture, but for now, he wanted time alone to contemplate his success.

Everything had fallen into place, and nothing would ever bring disorder into his world again.
He took a bottle containing some recently collected blood out of a cabinet and poured himself a glass. As he sat at the massive wooden table, he let his mind wander to the one bride he'd lost.

The golden-haired angel who had once been Daniel Paxton's fiancée.

He'd never imagined the boy would have the strength of character to kill her. If he'd known, he would have taken her along and she would be his now. Not that it mattered much. He had a bevy of beautiful women at his disposal.

"My Lord!" Stroe entered the room at a run and stopped before Vlad, panting. "I have some very good news and some— slightly troubling news."

Vlad put his half-drained glass down and stood. "Well, man, speak."

"The Head Hunter is dead, my Lord. The scheme has worked marvelously. It is only a matter of time before the Hunters fall completely."

Vlad grinned. It was about time. This plot had taken over a century to complete, but now that Gabriel was out of the way, everything would move much faster. "That is indeed great news." He picked up the glass and took a long sip. "What is the troubling news?"

"Three of our vampires from France have been killed." Stroe shuffled his feet. "At the same time."

Vlad raised his eyebrows. It was troubling, but not worrying. "When did this happen?"

Stroe swallowed. "About ten days ago."

"What?" Vlad's eyes widened. This couldn't be possible. Not again. "We exterminated the Hunter division in France a month ago."

"I know, my Lord. We suspect... I mean to say, we are almost sure..."

"Speak up, man!"

"We suspect it was Daniel Paxton and Rachel Giuliani." Stroe's words poured out in a terrified avalanche. "We have no confirmation, but no other Hunter team is known to travel—"

"They were supposed to be dead!" Vlad slammed his fist on the table. "He was driven mad and she was a useless pile of flesh after her boyfriend left her. I made sure of that myself. They posed no threat. I ordered them killed that very night."

Stroe whimpered and fell to his knees, his head in a deep bow. "They left Prague before they were found. We lost their trace."

"And you're telling me now?" Vlad threw the glass against the wall. Blood splattered the across paint and shards rained on the floor. The thick red liquid trickled to the ground.

"I-I didn't k-know. I've only found out today."

"Where are those damned Hunters? Up to no good, I presume."

"We do not know where they are. After Paris—"

"I know, you fool! It was a rhetorical question."

Vlad frowned. A shiver ran down his spine and his skin crawled. A black wisp of smoke entered the room. A bold, skeletal head and a pair of claw-like hands materialized from its midst. In a shimmer, the black smoke turned into a handsome man with dirty-blond curly hair, blue eyes, and a chin-full of days-old stubble. He wore some dreadfully tight jeans, a leather jacket, and a scarf around his neck. His entire form was slightly transparent.

"I know where they are."

"Who are you?" Vlad snarled.

"You don't recognize me?" He did a pirouette. "I am Justin." He sighed and shook his head. "You vampires should get down with the times. I'm a wraith."

"I know you're a damn wraith, you pathetic smoke particle. You're just not one of my wraiths."

"Well..." The wraith polished his nails on his jacket. "I decided to see how much you would pay for certain information."

Vlad narrowed his eyes. "Give me your information and I will assess how much it's worth."

"You're looking for the brunette guy, the one who looks as though he'd stepped out of one of those steamy romance novels. And the gorgeous redhead." He put the back of his hand on his forehead and let out a dramatic sigh. "Yeah, I've seen them."

A vein pulsated in Vlad's temper. "Where have you seen them?"

"How much is the information worth to you?"

"So far, your miserable existence," Vlad growled. "And if you don't tell me everything you know, I might change my mind."

The wraith gulped loudly. "Well, if you put it that way. They visited that ugly Banshee in Nămăieşti. That's where I first - and last saw them."

Vlad's insides froze. They were in Romania? Those brats hadn't given up on the idea of hunting him after what had happened? How dare they? "Where did they go from there?"

"Up to that damn mausoleum. I couldn't follow them there. You know that wraiths can't enter or exit Holy Grounds unaccompanied by the living. Or by vampires." He rubbed his hands together, a humble grin on his face. "So, how much is this information worth?"

"Very much. It is...prized information. It will need to be kept safe, to be accessed only when needed." Vlad sneered and snapped his fingers. "Stroe. Pay our informer."

"Yes, my Lord." His servant bowed his head and showed the wraith out.

Vlad returned to the table and dropped on the chair. Those two were turning out to be more trouble than he'd thought. But with this information, he would hunt them down himself and make sure the job was done. And that wraith would never see the light of day again.

Then, there was the matter of Gabriel finally being dead. The Hunters would be extinct by the end of the century.

He grabbed another glass and filled it to the brim. He raised it, and smiled at himself, delighting at the rich redness.  This was a reason for celebration.

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