Madman's Monster Read online

  I quickly peeked around the door to the office and retreated almost in the same instant. There were three men in the office. Two were standing on either side of a third man, who was seated in one of the leather chairs we used for guests. I remembered that the seated man had something laying across his lap, a briefcase maybe, but the other two men had their Tokarev 9mm pistols aimed at my head when I took my look.

  "Please! We are not here for violence!" that same voice called out to me.

  I wasn't in the mood for explanations at that point so I simply said, "Have your men drop their weapons and kick them over to the door or I swear to God none of you will leave here alive."

  It wasn't a bluff. Lei and I were what our people called "Hunters." In the old days we would be the people who were sent out to "acquire" blood for the group...I'll let your mind wander on how we managed to acquire it. These days the Hunters had become protectors and defenders of our people, but our training still included all the deadly aspects of the old days.

  "Cton! Polozhite Gus’ vniz!" the words sounded Slavic, probably Russian, but I had no clue what had been said until I heard two loud thumps followed by a grating slide of metal on the concrete floor. I peered around the corner again and saw that the two men who previously had been holding pistols were empty handed, with their arms in the air. Surprised, I ducked my head back around and then quickly moved into the room with my Glock at the ready. Lei appeared from behind me and trained her revolver on the man to the right while I watched the man to my left, along with the guy in the center.

  "Now would be a very good time to start talking," I said as I backpedaled, knelt down to pick up their weapons and dropped them into the trash.

  "Be sure to include the part about why we shouldn't just shoot you in the first place.” Lei was visibly shaken at realizing how close I came to having my head removed by the shotgun blast. It resulted in making her very, very angry.

  "I apologize for Mikhail," the old man in the chair spoke in that same accented English and his voice sounded very much like a man who had smoked far too much, "The man is an idiot, but a loyal one. Is he dead?"

  I didn't know if he was or not, so instead of answering I moved to the first man on my left and spun him until his back was to me. Then I patted him down but found no other weapons on his person.

  I backed up and Lei said, "He's just taking a little nap right now, but he'll need a doctor when he wakes up. Probably never play the piano again, but he'll live," Lei said as she repeated my actions by patting down the other man just as I had, and then came back up to cover my position.

  I moved to a spot just out of reach of the man in the chair. He was old, really old, if the number of wrinkles and sagging flesh on his face were any indication, but as he rose to allow me to pat him down it was clear he still had full, if not excellent, control of his physical abilities.

  I extended a hand for the briefcase and the old man pushed it out of my reach.

  "Please, we are here to discuss business. You must accept the work before you see what is inside the case."

  I raised the barrel of the Glock up to the man's face, "That particular nicety went off the table the second your man pointed a gun at me."

  If the old man was in any way intimidated by the gun, he didn't show it. Actually, it looked almost as though he was about to start laughing and was having trouble holding it in.

  I acquiesced, "All right, you hold the box open. I am only looking for weapons, not papers or pictures, and if I don't see any you can close the box before I have the chance to memorize anything. Agreed?"

  The old man sighed, "It is acceptable."

  He spun the briefcase around, popped the latches and opened the case. I was able to see a letter size manila envelope, four passports and three stacks of what I thought were hundred dollar bills. Nothing else.

  I nodded and the old man slowly closed and latched the briefcase. I looked the old man in the eyes and said, "Take a seat."

  He complied easily enough before turning to his two associates who were still standing and said, "My men?"

  Without looking I said, "Lei?"

  "Mmm-hmm?" she purred in her way.

  "Would you mind bringing chairs in for our two friends?"

  I could feel her head swivel to the back of mine, "You sure?"

  I was still staring at the old man, and something about him was stirring a memory that wouldn’t surface.

  "I think level heads have prevailed for now." I inclined my head to the old man, "What do you think?"

  "Da, I believe so."

  Lei chuffed loud enough for everyone to hear, "Easy to say now that we have them dead to rights."

  I kept my gaze on the old man, something about his eyes reminded me of... To Lei I said, "I'm not so sure about that."

  The old man smiled at my words. His teeth were stained various shades of brown and yellow, evidence of a lengthy relationship with cigarettes...a VERY long relationship.

  Lei had been wearing a confident, perhaps even smug, expression at our apparent victory; and then my words had sunk in and her face transitioned instantly back into battle mode.

  "You are very perceptive for one so young," the old man drawled in that Russian accent as his face drew together in a mask of limitless rage and terrifying power, "but if I had come here to do anything but talk, then you and your, ‘shlyukha’, would already be dead."

  I lowered the Glock to my side and walked the three paces toward the old man until we stood practically nose-to-nose.

  "You sound like you know me," I said in a murderous whisper, "If that's true, then you should also know better than to threaten me," I grabbed the back of the old man's head and shoved the barrel of the Glock under his chin, "or call my woman a whore."

  If I hadn't been looking right at his face I might have missed the momentary flash of fear that darted over the old man's face. Apparently he wasn't used to having his threats met with anything but supplication. I could feel the strength building up inside the man as I kept my grip on the back of his head. He was strong, powerful and capable well beyond what his physical appearance would indicate. Despite my entire focus being directed at the old man I could hear a shuffling of feet and the sound of a large object hitting the floor before Lei called out to me.

  "Steve!"

  I shoved the old man back and into the chair that he had been sitting in then ducked and spun to my right. The fist of the large bodyguard flew over the area where my head had been as my body twisted away from the blow. I extended my gun arm as I spun and centrifugal force brought the butt end of the Glock back around, slamming into the guard’s face, effectively shattering one side of his jaw. The man went down in a heap, while the follow through of the blow left me standing once again with the barrel of the gun pointing directly at the chair where I had shoved the old man.

  I was aiming at the backrest of the chair. The old man wasn't there.

  I heard Lei gasp and whirled to see the immobile form of the other guard lying on the ground in front of her, but behind her the old man had one of her arms trapped behind her back, while his gnarled, claw-like hand seemed to be caressing her throat.

  Score one for my instincts: they told me the old man was more than he appeared... and damn them to hell for not giving me any idea how much more.

  I raised my Glock, "Easy there comrade, we wouldn't be in this position to begin with if your men hadn't kept attacking us."

  The old man's eyes narrowed, "In Mikhail’s case, that would be true, however, you made your particular threat plain when you dared to touch me. What were my..." the old man paused and looked disgustingly down at the pair of guards on the floor,"...men to do?"

  I sighed, "All right. Enough." I lowered the Glock and holstered it, "Enough of all this posturing. You say you came here to talk? Let the girl go and we'll talk."

  The old man's eyes had dropped to the holster at my belt, apparently shocked that I would semi-disarm myself so easily. Lei started giggling at the old man's apprehe
nsion and he took it badly. He tossed Lei aside with enough force to send her airborne into a wall of the office. Picture frames fell off their nails as drywall cracked and crumbled in a basic outline of Lei's flailing body as she hit and fell limply to the floor. I tried not to look but the moment my eyes left the old man to see if Lei was all right he appeared next to me. I never even saw him move.

  One hand encircled my throat the same way it had Lei's while the other grabbed my gun hand so I couldn't draw the weapon.

  His breath stank, though not from garlic or any other pungent food. It smelled of decay. Death.

  "You are right young one, I do know you...and I do need your service or I would kill you here and now for your insolence."

  I twisted my head around as he held my neck so I could face him. The effort abraded my skin beneath his nails and it took considerable strength to move at all, but I, too, was much more than I seemed to be, and not nearly as outmatched as the old man thought. Still, we could keep up with the "mine's bigger than yours" contest all day and it wouldn't get us anywhere. The truth was that if we decided to take this to a lethal level it would probably end in a stalemate...meaning we'd kill each other...and that wouldn't do for either of us.

  I smiled, "So, you done now? Can I go and check on my girl or did you want to throw me into the wall as well?"

  The old man's eyes narrowed, but his grip on my throat loosened and he released my gun arm. I walked around him and checked on Lei who was moaning softly as she regained consciousness. People like Lei and myself are tough, a product of our upbringing and training and we heal extremely fast as a result of our genetics, which makes us very hard to kill. Unfortunately, a broken neck or ruptured artery would do the job just as it would on anyone else, so it was always in our best interest to keep any lethal confrontations to a minimum. I breathed out a quick sigh of relief and turned back to the old man and gestured a hand for him to sit. He glanced at the side of the chair he had originally been sitting in, and retrieved the briefcase from the floor where he had dropped it.

  I cleared some of the debris on the floor so Lei didn't accidentally cut herself as she came back to her faculties, walked behind the desk and sat in my own leather chair.

  "So," I said, "what are you doing in North America Mr. Lagos?"

  There was a glimmer in the old man's eyes and a smile crept across his face. "As I said," barely keeping the laughter out of his voice, "very perceptive."

  Chapter 9

  Dimitri Lagos, leader of the vampire nation whose territory encompassed most of the countries that comprised the former Soviet Union. And yes, I did say "vampire nation." It turned out that the little collective group I grew up in was not unique in all the world. Apparently Alpha had known of the existence of other groups, but it wasn't until communications went global and the world became a much smaller place, that the rest of us found out that we weren't alone or unique. Turned out that there were hidden groups, similar to ours, secreted away on every continent. Dimitri's group was by far the largest as well as being one of the oldest; however, there were additional groups in Egypt, Uganda, China, Brazil, and France, while some younger collectives existed in Canada, Australia and, of course, the United States.

  Dimitri Lagos was the Russian collective's version of our Alphonso Diemo. Unfortunately for the populace at large within his territory, Dimitri and his kind rejected modern assimilation and were basically still the blood sucking serial killers that Hollywood so elegantly tried to reinvent every few years. Basically, the Russians are scary...very scary...and they comport themselves as if they are truly royals from near the turn of the 19th century. Having the enormous sums of money that they seem to have helped them to maintain this ridiculous image. It also seems to keep the authorities from noticing the countless bodies that disappear all over Russia. Where the money comes from, no one really knows. It is also unknown just how they manage to maintain ownership of vast areas of land, in spite of Communism where all worldly possessions and real estate were absorbed into the "State."

  I had to tread carefully. Clearly Dimitri was of the few of us who's life had extended beyond even what we can usually expect, which meant that he was hundreds, if not thousands of years old. It was a rare trait amongst our kind, but not unheard of. Alphonso Diemo, our founder, is long lived and, supposedly, Lei and myself are also, although neither of us have been alive long enough at this point to have experienced, or witnessed an extended life firsthand. It also meant that there was a great deal of the unknown in play. What happened to those of us who "continue on" in life was never well documented by our historians as most of our kind either went mad from our condition in times when blood was scarce or were killed before they ever managed to reach old age. The elderly in our society were a rather new predicament that our people had to prepare for, but Dimitri's people had their own solutions.

  They ate the old.

  Making it even more distasteful, if that were possible, was the fact that it didn't even serve a purpose, as the blood from our own kind won't sustain us, so the act had more to do with thinning the ranks and removing the weak. True, it made the Russians strong as a group, but physically they didn't have the dubious luxury of growing up underground. Rock climbing was a means of getting around in my world and my people could move up a sheer vertical rock wall almost as easily as could a spider. The Russians might be scary and capable, but none of them can compare to my people physically.

  I stared across the desk at Dimitri and waited as he placed the briefcase on the desktop and then set his gnarled hands on top of it protectively. We just looked at one another for a moment. I don't know if we were sizing each other up or if we were both just taking a respite to center ourselves after the earlier violence.

  I really wanted to get the monstrous bastard out of my office as quickly as possible, so I dispensed with the formal pleasantries.

  "All right Dimitri, as you well know, North America is Alpha's territory and, as his second, I am bound to enforce his will on any who come here. So I'm going to ask you again, why are you here?"

  The old man smiled and nodded, "I am aware of the protocols, but I am here on invitation by Comte Diemo himself." He produced a letter, the design on which I recognized immediately as being Alpha's, and held it out to me.

  I took the letter and read the familiar script. Basically it read that I was supposed to extend safe passage to the Russians as well as assist them if I were able. I didn't like it. I knew how Alpha felt about the Russians, which was not friendly to say the least, and couldn't believe he would ever willingly want to help them.

  I placed the letter on the desk, "This gets you five minutes of my time. Start talking."

  The old man looked down to his hands and shook his head in what might have been disappointment. I thought he might drag out the time deliberately, but he started talking quickly enough.

  "It has come to my attention that certain of our financial interests are in jeopardy of being taken from us."

  He waited for me to respond. I didn't.

  With another sigh he continued, "It would appear as though our claims of ownership to certain mineral rich lands in Siberia have come under scrutiny within the new administration. We are at risk of losing these lands and I would very much like this not to be so."

  I chortled, "I always heard you Russians had pockets deep enough to sway any political decisions your way."

  Dimitri looked confused, "Deep pockets?" It took less than a minute for him to grasp the meaning, "Ah, yes. I see. That is true; however, if a proper bribe was all that was needed I would not be here now."

  It was my turn to nod, "I suppose that makes sense. What doesn't is that I am based here in Nevada, which is in the southwestern United States, not Russia. What do you expect me to do?"

  "Directly, nothing. This is our fight for our land and my people will turn the soil crimson to a degree such as never been seen since Stalin's time if anyone dares to try to take what is ours."

  The look in Dimitri's ey
es went bestial and I hadn't initially realized I was holding my breath until the ache to breathe in my chest overwhelmed the apprehension that flowed through me.

  Dimitri was looking past me in a kind of daydream and I watched his eyes as they flicked back and forth wildly in their sockets.

  "Okay," I said calmly, hoping it would be infective, "so what do you want of me?" Dimitri suddenly seemed to wake from the daydream and his eyes shot back to mine in a deadly glare full of threat and intent. His breathing was irregular and he clenched his fists, but managed to calm himself enough to continue the conversation.

  "You," he said and pointed a crooked finger at my face, "I need you to recover some property of mine."

  "Excuse me?"

  Dimitri nodded, "I have taken steps to counter what is happening in Siberia. Unfortunately, the man I put in charge of the project has betrayed me and I want what he owes me.”

  I held up my hands, "Wait a minute, are you telling me that you want me to steal for you?"

  "Not stealing. Recovering what is already mine."

  I laughed, "As you say."

  Dimitri's eyes burned into me, "I am not lying, boy."