Tribes Of The Vampire - The Jaded Hunter Part 2

"What about Champagne for the ladies?" Sizemore asked. "And scotch for us men?"

"And dinner afterwards," Stevens added quietly, talking more to his friend than to the group.

"All will be taken care of," Tom a.s.sured with a bob of his fair head. "If you have any preferences feel free to tell me as we go over the final details."

"Yes," Mack acclaimed with a wave of his hand. "Follow Tom. There are just a few forms to fill out and then he'll help you transfer your payment to my account."

The two men quickly took their leave with many thanks. As they were departing, Sizemore boomed, "So you actually do this for a living, son? By George, what an adventure! If I wasn't born so d.a.m.ned rich, I like to think that I might have become a vampire hunter. In my college days I was quite the experienced boxer...."

When the door closed behind his clients, m.u.f.fling the bl.u.s.tering man's words, Mack smiled in self-satisfaction. His eyes narrowed.

His face became less charming now that he was alone. Slowly, he walked back to his large oak desk.

The tall ceiling of his library curved high overhead with Renaissance women painted on the wooden panels. The dark wood of the shelves housed endless volumes of books and artifacts. It was the pinnacle of his written collection. Large drapes hung from ceiling to floor, covering the crosshatched panes of gigantic windows. Tastefully expensive artwork decked the walls. A sculpture nestled on the planked wood floor and a thick Oriental rug gave relief to the dark wood.

Lifting the lid on his cigar box, Mack helped himself to an imported cigar. Smoke curled around him as he made his way around his desk to his computer. With a click of a few b.u.t.tons, he brought up his account. Then, sitting at the leather chair before his desk, he flashed a wide, dreamlike smile as he waited patiently for the money to transfer.

Jaden stretched her arms over her head as she wearily climbed the steps to the second level of her uncle's Upper East Side apartment. Mack owned the building, reserving many of the rooms below his penthouse for the men who worked for him. He liked to keep his employees close and being above so many talented vampire killers was an added perk in his line of business.

On the first level of the penthouse was the open main hall, showcasing the curling staircase and railing along the upper hallway.

The marble covered floor gleamed with understated elegance, the swirling cream pattern and dark wood was an ongoing theme in the apartment. To the right, the servants worked and even lived on the first level alongside the kitchen and utility rooms. Jaden never went beyond the hall in that direction.

Next to the kitchen was a large entertainment room. No one ever watched television in the house. Their lives were too interesting without it. But the large flat screen and a leather couch were kept there nonetheless. If not for the servants they would've acc.u.mulated dust long ago.

To her left was the dining room. Mack often held dinner parties for those of higher rank who worked for him. Jaden made a point of being unavailable on such occasions. Those of his men who didn't know her would frequently gain too much encouragement in drink and find themselves asking the rudest questions about her heritage and every one of them wanted to see what she was like in bed. She made it a rule never to be with anyone who knew what she was. She wouldn't be a game to the lot of immature boys Mack employed.

Jaden made her way quietly up the stairs. She ignored the long windows at the top of the staircase showing the brilliance of the familiar New York skyline. She had lived with her uncle for many years, growing up in the luxury of his many homes. But to her the luxury wasn't what it would appear to most. To her, it was a place to crash after endless nights of training and working had taken its toll.

Nowadays, she rarely stayed in the same house as Mack. Her work carried her all over North America and occasionally overseas. She lived out of hotel suites and boarding houses. She didn't mind. She liked the travel and she was left to her own, which she preferred. And if she ever decided to have a meaningless affair then so be it. The men she picked rarely spoke her language. If they did it was usually broken and she would be gone before they woke up the next morning. Not that she did it often.

In the highest level of the penthouse were the bedrooms--hers and Mack's only. Her uncle didn't invite guests in the house. He liked his privacy too much. There was a library and each of them had their own bathrooms off the hall. There was a small room resembling a study. Jaden knew her uncle sometimes used it for business.

However, her preferred area was the gym. It was an empty room with a wooden floor and a wall filled with weaponry. Mack had them installed in all his houses for her when she was a girl. Jaden favored the openness of s.p.a.ce. If only the penthouse had been out of the city, it would've been her favorite home.

Jaden frowned, slowing her steps as she came to the top of the stairs. She heard voices, but couldn't make out the words. Seeing Tom coming from her uncle's library, she moved out of sight. It was too late. Tom saw her. He gave her a polite nod of acknowledgment, but the greeting didn't erase the coldness in his eyes. She didn't bother to return the pretense.

She waited until he led the two men with him away, not wanting to be forced into smiling for her uncle's friends. No doubt they would wish to impress her with their bank accounts. She s.h.i.+vered. When she heard a door close above her she moved to the library and wearily pushed her way in.

Mack's eyes met hers instantly. Jaden didn't even pretend to smile.

"Who was that with Tom?" she asked in distraction. For the hundredth time since picking herself off the alley floor she flicked her tongue over her stinging bottom lip. The mark was still there. She grimaced.

"Just a couple of men who lost their sisters to a vampire. They wished to donate a large, anonymous sum to the organization,"

Mack answered easily. He did not elaborate and he knew Jaden wouldn't ask him to. He leaned forward in his chair and stroked his keyboard with a decisive punch of his fingers. The computer screen cleared.

Jaden shook her head. She always knew her uncle's venture was well funded. She just didn't know how. And, frankly, she didn't care to ask.

"Do I need to take care of it?" she asked, distracted.

"No. I'll put the guys on it," he answered. "It's simple enough."

Mack studied his niece for a long time. He couldn't ignore the large bruise forming on her jaw. It wasn't a spectacular sight seeing her thus. She always came home a little banged up from her fights. Luckily, due to her unique bloodline, she had a high tolerance for pain and quick recoveries. Beyond the bruises, Jaden was a beautiful woman just like his sister had been. She had strong, Scottish cheekbones, a smooth pale complexion and hair of luxurious dark brown with just a hint of red. But what made his young niece striking was her eyes the color of precious jade. Those she had been given from her father.

When Jaden was a girl, he and a small group of scientists had tested the limits of her abilities. It was ironic that the one feature she carried from her father--her magnificent eyes--was the one feature on her that was practically normal in function.

Seeing his unusually long perusal, Jaden frowned. "What is it, Mack?"

"You look so much like you mother, Jade," he murmured with a shake of his head. He kept his real thoughts from her.

Jaden ignored his words. She didn't like to talk about her parents. Instead, she crossed over to his desk. Taking a seat in a comfortable leather chair, she asked indifferently, "Tom still angry?"

"Do you blame him?" her uncle asked. He reached over to pour a gla.s.s of scotch. He offered it to Jaden. She took it gratefully.

Gulping the contents down in one swallow, she set the gla.s.s down on the desk with a decisive clink.

"No," she grumbled. And she wasn't sorry for it. "I would be p.i.s.sed off too, if I'd been beaten up by a girl."

"Jade," Mack scolded lightly. His scowl couldn't last. His eyes turned fondly over her emotionless face. With a sigh, he whispered, "You've been insolent since girlhood. I remember your tutors nearly pulling their hair out at your quick, sarcastic wit."

"Hum," she mumbled, showing no particular fondness for the same memory.

Mack cleared his throat. "You still haven't given me a full report of what happened in New Orleans. If you told me, maybe I could talk to Tom and smooth things out. He is one of my best men and I would like it if you would work together."

"And I won't give you a full report either," she answered evenly with a yawn. "The vampire is dead. That is the report. Type it up yourself. Or hand me a pen and I'll write it down for you."

Mack chuckled, "All right, Jade. You win. I'll stop asking. But will you consider working with To--"

"No," she broke in before he could finish. Wryly, she added, "I would be too tempted to let the vampires have him."

"Then what about Rick? You seemed to like him when I first lured him away from the Marines," Mack continued to try and persuade her. Jaden smiled ruefully, shaking her head in denial before the words were completed. Mack sighed and let the matter drop.

"How's the shoulder?" her uncle asked instead of prying. He suspected something happened between his niece and the man.

Jaden never had much to say when he mentioned Rick Fletcher. And Rick was just as uncomfortably quiet.

"Doesn't hurt." She shrugged, s.h.i.+fting awkwardly. After what happened in Louisiana, she wasn't sure she trusted her uncle completely. But she wasn't about to admit it to anyone.

"And your jaw?"

Jaden scowled at the reminder. For a moment she had forgotten. Lightly, she touched her face. Wincing, she drew her hand to fall back on the arm of the chair. Wrinkling her nose, she said, "It's nothing."

"Need a doctor?"

"No," she answered just as wryly. A small smile threatened her lips but never surfaced. A flash of ice blue eyes flickered through her mind, disturbing yet calm.

"Who were you tracking?" Mack asked, busying himself with the papers on his desk. Casually, he placed them in a folder and turned to put them into his safe hidden beneath a decorative sundial. Jaden watched him curiously, but couldn't see how he opened it. "I haven't given you an a.s.signment for months."

"Just felt like a bit of a spar," Jaden lied. Before he could call her on it, she rushed, "Have you ever heard of a vampire named Tyr?"

"Tyr what?"

"Just Tyr." Jaden again shrugged.

"I can't say that I have," Mack answered thoughtfully. Shaking his head after silent deliberation, he asked, "How old? It is so hard to log all the new ones. It seems like someone is going about building an army of late. The guys have been running into a lot of newly turned."

"I'm not sure how old. I just heard his name mentioned and wanted to know if he was worth worrying about." Jaden stood, crossing over to the expanse of old books lining the wall. Running her fingers over the volumes, she stopped at a thin leather bound record book. Pulling it down, she flipped open the yellowing pages. After careful searching, she sighed, "I don't see him on this list."

Jaden snapped the book shut and slid it back into place.

"If he's one of the old he more than likely would be," Mack answered. "That list was taken directly from the vampire tribe's own records in the 1700's. If he isn't listed, he must be a young one. I'd say he was nothing to worry about."

"I'm not so sure. Maybe it is a nickname for one of these others," she said quietly. She again reached for the book and carried it with her to the chair. She flipped through it, ignoring the crossed out names signifying the vampire was confirmed dead. Seeing the name of Bhaltair still boldly displayed, she ran her finger over it lightly before moving on. "And I really have doubts about the thoroughness of the tribal council's record keeping ability. How do you know this list is an honest account?"

"The source is fairly reliable," he murmured.

"I doubt it," she clipped. "The only source I would call reliable is one of the tribal leaders themselves. And they wouldn't turn on their own kind."

"Let's just see." Mack sat at his desk and started typing. He ignored her words about the council. "Tyr, you say. T-I-R. Nothing." "Try Tyr, T-Y-R," Jaden murmured in distraction as she turned another page.

"Ah," Mack said. "Here we are. You're right. It must be a nickname. It says here that Tyr is the Norse G.o.d of war and justice, son of Odin. He carries a spear in his left hand and is missing his right hand. It was bitten off by a wolf, Fenrir."

"That makes no sense," Jaden muttered coming to her feet. She thought of the vampire in the alley. He did resemble a Viking G.o.d of sorts, though he still possessed two hands. "None of the young ones would pick such a name. They always call themselves so- and-so the b.l.o.o.d.y or the mace, the hammer, whatever weapons have you."

"Someone must be teasing you, Jaden," Mack mused, leaning back. "Maybe one of the guys is playing a prank to cheer you up."

"I don't think so." She scratched behind her ear. She licked her lip. It was no prank. She was marked.

"Wait, Tyr." Mack suddenly sat up. He pressed his forefinger thoughtfully to his lips. "I think I have seen that spelling somewhere before."

Within moments Mack pulled a large tomb of a book from the highest shelf. Dropping it on the desk, he pulled it open.

"What's this?" Jaden asked. She eyed the French words she couldn't read.

"An old book of myths that I bought several years ago in India," he explained. Mack flipped through several more pages before finding the one he wanted. "Here. The Dark Knights."

"Dark Knights?" she repeated with a doubtful chuckle.

"Yes," Mack murmured before translating. "The Dark Knights are a legendary band of enforcers created by the vampire council in the year 888 AD. They number eight, one from each of the existing tribes. It says that if the vampire council of elders is the political force behind the vampire nation, then the knights are their elite military. Not much is known about these dreaded soldiers of the darkness except that their numbers were chosen by the council after rigorous testing, their existence is well guarded and they are feared by not only mortals, but by vampires. They are the only creatures, aside from the council, that are allowed to feed on their own kind."

"A cannibalistic knight?" Jaden questioned in bemus.e.m.e.nt. She rolled her eyes in disbelief. "Vampire's can't feed on their own kind. I thought you said the dying blood would cause them harm. Besides, it contradicts all we know of the council. They would never allow it. By all accounts, they are too greedy for power and would never permit such a creature to exist. One of their sacred laws is that no vampire can harm another vampire, especially from the same tribe."

"Ah," Mack argued for the sake of being controversial. "In theory, if the council chooses them, then they might be allowed special privileges."

"But to break a sacred law?" Jaden countered skeptically. She shook her head, "What else does it say?"

"It references some old text. It is said that they act with ruthless force and that their decisions in any matter are final, unless overruled by the council elders for some spectacular reason. The existence of the knights is widely accepted as a myth between vampires and mortals alike. They are generally not believed as anything more than an old folklore created in the superst.i.tious times of the Middle Ages to get new vampire children to obey their creators. See attached list for names and known descriptions."

Mack turned the large page. Jaden leaned over for a closer look. Touching the small print, she found a word she recognized. "This is a list of the eight tribes. The Moroi tribe must have created Morana. The Myertovjec's knight is called Chern.o.bog." With a smirk, she added sarcastically, "That's a pretty name."

Mack chuckled at her cynicism as he walked over to his computer. He began typing in the names she read.

"Ah, the Llugut knight is Aleksander," Jaden continued with a deepening frown. "Vrykolatios is Hades. The Vrykolakas is Ares. Are you getting the feeling these were all named after G.o.ds of some sort?"

"What about the name Tyr?" Mack asked.

Jaden gulped, freezing as her eyes picked out the name. Weakly, she whispered, "Yes, he is the Drauger knight."

"It would make sense. The tribe is said to be of Nordic decent."

"Ah, s.h.i.+va is of the Rakshasa and Osiris is of the Impudula." Jaden looked up from the book, hoping her last words didn't quiver too tellingly. "What do you think?"

"I think someone is playing with you. In all my research I have never heard mention of a Dark Knight actually existing.

Occasionally they are blamed for a vampire's death, but nothing is ever proven. And in the old superst.i.tions it was said that they killed hunters amongst the gypsies. But really, the deaths could be linked to any number of things, not necessarily a Dark Knight."

"You mean dhampirs," Jaden said as quietly as possible, thinking of the gypsy myths. A fear gripped her heart. She knew the stories of the old dhampirs. She knew what had been done to them--especially the hunters. They were tortured for days and saved each time they were brought near death. When aided by the healing properties of vampire blood drops, the process could last for years--decades. When he didn't answer, she added, "Like me."

Mack swallowed uncomfortably. Not meeting her eye, he nodded. "Yes, but it has to be a joke. It isn't as if your profession is low profile in the underworld. They probably revived the old name to scare you."

"Can you translate this description here, just in case," Jaden asked. She pointed to the short paragraph following Tyr's name.

"Sure." Mack came over to her and read. "Tyr is known as a heartless and cruel warrior. He uses his strength to execute his duty and to obtain whatever information he was sent to acquire."

"That's all?" Jaden asked in sinking dread. She stared at the foreign words, wis.h.i.+ng she could translate them herself. A suspicion crept over her as she noticed the word vampijorivic, little vampire. It was another name for dhampir. There was more her uncle wasn't telling her. Memorizing the page number, she turned her eyes away.

"It pretty much says the same thing for all of them," Mack answered soothingly.

Jaden wasn't concerned with the rest of them at the moment. Wearily licking the wound on her lip, she thought in dejection, Boy, do I know how to pick the good ones. It seems I can't even get my own suicide right.

Even as she thought it, she wasn't as ready for death as she had been at the beginning of the night. She knew it should have shaken her how close she had come. But not being as eager to end it didn't mean she wanted to continue on. She was thoroughly exhausted--tired of the isolation, tired of being forced to hunt, tired of feeling too much of the wrong thing and especially tired of living with the guilt of what she had allowed to happen.

Seeing she was unconvinced, Mack laid an arm around Jaden's shoulders. In a low whisper, he murmured, "You know I would never let you get hurt. You are my only family and I love you."

"I know." Jaden pulled away, unused to the affection. Mack let her go. "So you think it is a hoax?"

"I would stake my life on it." Mack gave an a.s.sured nod.

Jaden sighed. "All right then. I'm off to bed. I've had enough excitement for the night. I'll see you at dusk before I go out."

"Jade," her uncle said, stopping her from retreating. "Why don't you stay in tomorrow? Or maybe we could go out together-- catch a play. I can get tickets to anything you want."