Marco grinned at Wake. “Make sure he comes through this and I’ll triple the monies I’ve been funneling to you. If he dies, I’ll cut you off at the knees.”

Wake simply smiled.

A new voice sounded on the loading bay, one groggy and unsure of itself. “Uncle Marco, is that you?”

Wake moved before anyone else. Pulling a patch from his coat, he knelt by the struggling form. “Rest now. You’ve had an accident, but we’re going to take good care of you.”

Wake slipped the patch over Warren’s jugular, and Marco watched him drift immediately back into oblivion.

6

At its highest levels, Ordo Maximus is the tool of a secret cabal of a: least half a dozen vampires-perhaps more-all skilled initiates who use the Ordo’s funds and political connections to conduct biomagical research well hidden from the public eye. Their goal is simple and terrifying; they seek to create variant strains of HMHVV, new viruses that will confer the strengths and weaknesses of vampirism at the Ordo’s sole discretion.

– 

Martin de Vries, Shadows at Noon, posted to Shadowland BBS, 24 May 2057

The following morning, seagulls swirled in an azure sky over Marco’s mansion in Magnolia Bluff, some four kilometers from the heart of downtown Seattle. The area was favored by the sprawl’s elite and wealthy, including those who earned their nuyen on both sides of the law. The mansion was surrounded by a three-meter stone fence topped with wrought iron spikes, track-mounted Ares security drones, and trid cameras. This served to deter all but the most well-equipped burglars from even thinking about attempting a break-in.

The mansion grounds were spacious and well-landscaped in Italian-garden style, with roses and olive trees and fountains shaped into the forms of Roman deities. Today, the sun glimmered off the moving water, though Marco, groggy and just awakened from his daily slumber by an irate Julius, could not see it.

The two men were in Marco’s inner office. High ceiling fans provided the only movement of air in the completely enclosed room. Even though Marco could now sustain the touch of sunlight, on days like today, with the light so blazing and clear, he would still be severely burned.

Marco shook his head. He hadn’t anticipated Julius learning of Warren’s disappearance so soon.

“And I’m telling you he’s gone!” Julius’ voice was like a diamond saw cutting through stone. “Warren’s been taken by someone who knew our release codes.” Julius turned and paced across the Persian rug.

Marco knew he had to handle this with extreme care. “Maybe he simply went to one of his art shows.” He made sure to add just the hint of derision that Julius would expect.

Julius shook his head impatiently. “Impossible. When I tried to get in touch with him this morning. I got no answer. So I checked the guard logs, which showed he was left unattended from just before midnight last night. I went over there personally, and his front door was wide open. There was no sign of forced entry and no sign of a struggle, but Warren is gone. He would’ve told me if he was planning to leave Seattle.”

“And who do you think did this?”

Julius stopped pacing and turned to face his brother. “I’ve been warning you for months that something like this was bound to happen. Our contract with Don Bigio makes us a target. The yaks, the Seoulpa, it could be anyone. But whoever it was, it looks like they took a page from Derek’s killers and decided to get to us through Warren.”

Marco suppressed a smile. This anger on his brother’s part would serve his purposes nicely. “First off, we have contracts with a number of Mafia families as well as with the yaks. None has ever considered it a conflict of interests, and I don’t see why they would start now. Also, if you say there was no sign of forced entry, then it’s nothing like what happened to Derek. In case you’ve forgotten, Derek’s car was completely shredded. If Warren has been kidnapped, then he must not have put up a fight. Therefore, it might be something you haven’t considered, though I don’t think you are too far wrong.”

Julius’ face grew still, and in a soft voice he said, “You’re keeping secrets from me.”

Marco nodded. “I’m sorry, brother. Derek’s death seemed like a personal attack, and it pained me so much, I didn’t want to share what I’ve learned. However, in light of Warren’s disappearance, there’s something I’ve got to show you.”

Marco crossed the room, his nearly useless legs dragging on the floor as his will carried his misshapen body. Sitting down heavily in the overstuffed chair behind his desk, he pulled the trid recording from the center desk drawer. “Have a look at this.”

Julius’ face became even more still. “What is it?” His voice was little more than a whisper, the soft buffeting of a breeze through fallen leaves.

“It’s from the man who killed Derek.”

As if reaching for a live scorpion, Julius took the chip over to a tall bookshelf. He put his race to the hidden retinal scanner that had been placed in an ancient hardcover of Moby Dick. Then he stepped back, and the book case recessed and slid down into the floor, revealing a security console and a large trideo rig.

Marco slotted the chip and stood there as Martin de Vries came into view. Julius watched the whole thing without making a sound. When the monitor faded to black, he turned back to Marco.

Julius was nearly shaking with anger. “This explains a few things, like the unusual distribution of our Sec forces for the last couple of weeks. You shouldn’t have kept this from me.”

Marco forced himself to seem contrite. Bowing his head, he said, “You’re right, brother. It was short-sighted of me to think that this de Vries was through, that he would only come after me.”

“I want him. If he’s taken Warren, he’ll find that we have ways of making even vampires suffer before they die.”

Marco nodded, once again keeping a smile from his lips only by force of will. “Find him. If you can get to him soon enough, Warren might still be alive. Go, use whatever resources you need.”

Julius turned and headed for the door. “I will, brother. I will hunt this Martin de Vries, and if he’s hurt Warren, then I’ll make sure his death is neither clean, nor painless.”

Marco squinted at the bit of sunlight that peeked through as Julius opened the door and left. Be careful, brother You’re still human. At least for a little while longer.

7

A creature with the power of mist form can transform its physical body into a mist by controlling the molecular cohesion of its cells. The mist can pass through any crack or crevice that is not airtight, even penetrating filtration systems that are proof against gases or pollution.

– 

from Paranonnal Animals of Europe. first edition, by Charles Spencer, Department of Parabiology, University of Oxford, 2053

While Short Eyes slept the night away, de Vries hunted. This nights hunt was just part of the long hunt, the kind that required months of tracking, preparation, and that would culminate in violence and death.

Short Eyes was one of only a few humans who understood his hunt. But de Vries had a feeling about this other one, this stripper who looked so much like Josephine. He wanted to believe she would be another, even if it was only to help retrieve the one she loved.

From across the street, he watched her exit The Joy Club. He crouched on the roof of The Headlight Factory, just behind a monstrous set of neon breasts. De Vries took in the sight of her and found himself forgetting to breathe.

With a sharp intake of smog-laden air, he tracked her as she walked through the early evening heat. it was Josephine, and yet it was not. He trembled slightly at the proud way she tossed her head not letting the heat humble her as it did the other denizens of the district.