The Vampyre Legal Chronicles - Daniel: Book: 3 (11 page)

Anais never held a grudge.

And instead of having make-up sex with his wife, Marcus had
been summoned to see his father. Urgently. He'd showered and dressed in a
business suit, shirt and silk tie, just in case it was an emergency virtual
business meeting. They'd been having a lot of those since flying between
continents was banned. The Ebola flu outbreak was causing chaos and disruption
across the globe. Australia had prohibited flights in and out and their navy
was taking a hard-line with anyone escaping across the ocean to their shores.
They were blasting boats out of the water. A bit extreme, but who could blame
them?

The death toll in Africa was already in hundreds of
thousands with people fleeing into neighbouring countries and spreading
disease. He knew all the world health organizations were on their knees as the
CDC and global pharmaceutical companies were desperately testing vaccines on
human guinea pigs, but so far no one had had a breakthrough. And now another
virus, this time a mutation of swine and bird flu had come together in China
and it was spreading like a bush fire. And just to add to the misery, after two
undersea earthquakes, scientists based on the Canary Islands were predicting a
huge landslide, which would send a tsunami over one hundred feet high racing
across the Atlantic. Apparently, the land had become seriously unstable and
underwater volcanic activity in the area was growing. The earthquake in Nepal
had killed over ten thousand with another one predicted for the area and that had
just been the beginning of what appeared to be a chain reaction across multiple
fault lines across the world.

Things were bad.

Very bad.

As Marcus entered his father's apartment, he found him
conversing with Ian Macpherson, an Ian who was dressed in full Centuri armour
of black leather. His torso was covered in a vest of a light-weight Kevlar
material. Must be something new the techies who worked deep in the underground
research labs had dreamed up.

"We checked the live feed security cameras covering the
entrances and exits and they're compromised, too," Ian was saying, his
Scottish accent no more than a deep growl of disgust. "The technical team
are trying to find the source of the signal that's piggybacked on our wireless
loop. No joy yet. Although they're scratching their heads at the data they're
receiving. It doesn't make sense."

Duncan looked up, his eyes met his son's. And Marcus read
the deep frustration, the worry in his father's eyes.

He knew how he felt.

"What did they find?" Marcus asked Ian.

Ian frowned as he shook his head.

"The signal is electronic and it appears to come from
outer space."

At his father's raised brows of disbelief, Marcus nodded in
agreement.

"I know. Fucking E.T. What next?"

"Johan's always been good with puzzles," said
Duncan, referring to a vampyre geek and technical expert who lived in his own
little world in the basement with his team.

"Aye. He's right on it," agreed Ian. "I don't
think I've ever seen him so happy. He suspects it’s a stealth satellite that's
bouncing the signal. Probably Russian or Chinese."

A theory that sounded a hell of a lot more plausible to
Marcus than E.T.

On the wall a vast flat-screen, the sound turned low, was
showing a twenty-four-news channel with a constant supply of breaking bad news.
The Ebola flu epidemic was gathering pace. The United Kingdom was quarantined.
Younger members of the British Royal Family had been evacuated to the Scottish
Highlands. The Queen was refusing to leave London. In Rome the Pope was leading
tens of thousands in prayer at the Vatican. For once the Middle East had something
more important to worry about than ethnic cleansing.

Marcus turned his back on events, over which he had no
control. He folded himself into a fat chair in front of his father's desk.
"Techies are born, not made," he said.

His father, face hard, jaw tense, got straight to the point.

"We need to make a plan to secure our family's
future," Duncan said, blue eyes serious and focused. "What do you
think of Scotland?"

"It's cold and it's very far away."

His father's mouth twitched at the droll response. "It's
also magical. A centre of supernatural reoccurrence, a seat of ancient
power."

All of that, Marcus knew, was nothing less than the truth.

"How do you plan to get there?" he asked his
father. "The airspace is closed."

"There are ways," Duncan said in a cryptic tone.
It bugged Marcus that his sire was unwilling to discuss certain things, even
with him. He must have seen something in his face because now his father sighed
and nodded. "The ancient stone circles are notoriously unstable to use as Entrées
to travel within this world. We will need Ezekiel's help to manage the
transition of our business and our research teams and equipment. We begin
tonight. Constantine is implementing the first stage of a disaster recovery
plan for all vampyre Precedential Elders, Princes and key people. Should the
worst occur, the sites of the emergency hemoglobin banks will be revealed and
opened. We must be prepared."

"And so you're saying we'll use magic to travel to
Scotland?"

His father nodded. "Indeed."

Marcus felt a tickle of... unease, at the back of his neck
and knew he was being kept in the dark. Not being
lied
to exactly. His
father wouldn't do that, but he was an expert in evasion.

He tried another tack. "Using magic is a bit of a
turnaround for you, isn't it?"

Duncan flicked him a look. "I cannot say that I
personally have ever been against the practice, as long as it used purely for
good rather than evil."

Now
that
was news.

Since when?

But the expression on his father's face told him that was
all he was going to get from him tonight. That didn't mean the conversation was
over. Anything but.

"What news of a vaccine?" Marcus asked now.

Duncan shook his head, his eyes tight.

"Nothing yet. The disease continues to evolve
incredibly fast. We can't get ahead of it. Bear in mind a virus needs hosts to
survive. Not everyone will die." His eyes flicked over Marcus's shoulder
to the flat screen on the wall. "Italy, Spain, Portugal, Germany and
France are burning the dead in an attempt to stop the spread. The United
Kingdom has closed its ports. Soccer games and large gatherings have been
banned. The Scottish government is implementing the same policy and the health
service is on high alert. We can only pray it will be enough." His eyes
returned to his son's. "James and Charlotte arrived this evening and are
settling into their apartment in the floor below. I feel better having all my
chicks in the same henhouse."

"Except for Adam."

"Adam is safe in Scotland and about to take his mate.
Soon, we will all be together."

"Why the big rush to leave New York?"

Duncan's eyes turned bleak.

"Constantine has contacts in the scientific community
and a tsunami red alert has been released. If the worst happens in the Canary
Islands, there won't be a New York. Already there are plans to begin early
stage evacuation of the city tonight. The President wants to be seen to be safe
rather than sorry in order to keep the populace calm. The American army has
been quietly repatriated from the Middle East and Europe as soon as the Ebola
outbreak became airborne in Africa. The national guard is being mobilized with
the police to deal with looting."

"It will be impossible to evacuate everyone from the
city," said Marcus.

"Indeed. Some theorists suggest it might take a month
or more."

"But what if the infected are moved, too? Surely the
displacement of that amount of people would just spread the virus faster?"

"I didn't say the plan was a wise one, Marcus."

"Better than doing nothing?"

"That is what the authorities believe."

"Christ, it's a fucking mess."

***

Meanwhile, in Daniel's bedroom, Gia was
busy making her own plan and acting on it.

Her vampyre was riding her hard.

How
dare
they dictate to her?

She'd packed a suit carrier with a black dress so slinky it
might stop traffic. She tossed black suede pumps into her backpack. Then she
changed her top, slipped into a flesh colored strapless bra that did the lift
and separate thing, tugged on a black roll neck sweater, pulled on her grey
hoodie and thrust her bare feet into her old running shoes. Taking out her
cell, she rummaged around her bag to find Jerry's card and quickly keyed-in the
number. He answered right away.

"Hi, Jerry," she said in a low voice. "Any
chance of a ride to work tonight?"

His gravelly voice rumbled in her ear. "No probs, babe.
Be there asap."

After two years of working for Gillespie, Pattullo and
Hindmarch, Gia knew her way around the building. Opening the door into the
hallway, she listened to the sound of muted voices coming from the sitting room.

It seemed the vampyres were still flapping their gums.

Good.

The thought only entered her head to glide down the corridor
to the maintenance entrance, when she found herself floating about half an inch
above the floor.

Hot damn.

Excitement skittered through her system and she damped it
down fast.

The last thing she needed was Daniel picking up her thoughts
and how thrilled she was. She knew the exit code and pressed it into the
electronic keypad with fast fingers. As she opened the door half an inch, a
sixth sense told her that there was a presence at the top of the stairway. She
held her breath and waited. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a large man
clad in black leather at the top of the stairs. He reminded her of a special
operations soldier. She knew he was a vampyre by the way he moved, smooth as
silk as he stopped, cocked his head and listened. For a heartrending moment,
she thought he'd heard her, but then he took a running leap off the roof.

Whoa
.

It appeared vampyres could leap tall buildings.

A little voice asked her what the hell she thought she was
doing to go up against and disobey such powerful creatures?

She ignored the voice and didn't hesitate as she slid out
and closed the door very carefully behind her. Avoiding the elevator due to the
CCTV installed, she knew there were no cameras inside the service stairwell.

But there was CCTV at all exits.

She raced down the stairs.

Her heart might be in her mouth but her feet flew as they skimmed
the steps. She pulled up her hoodie, kept her head down on arrival at the
service entrance. There was Jerry's taxi idling at the curb. Fast as a snake,
she slid through the side gate. And was in the back of the taxi in seconds.

"Jes
u
s is looking forward to listening to you
tonight," said Jerry, his smile splitting his dark face.

Relaxing back against the seat, Gia beamed right back.

"I'm looking forward to it myself."

And she was also looking forward to seeing one Enricho
Donatti.

The claws of one hand released and contracted.

Her smile didn't reach her eyes.

Boy, was he in for a surprise tonight.

Gia didn't see Jerry's eyes narrow with concern in the rear
view mirror as the taxi moved down the road.

***

"You realize he may have gathered
many to his cause? Maybe even the Higher Elves who frequently bemoan what man has
done to the Earth. Soul-eaters. The Reapers..." Ezekiel shifted in his
chair making his leathers creak as his eyes lifted to meet Duncan's. "You
do realize we cannot stop it?"

Duncan nodded, felt the weight of the heavy crystal glass in
his hand, took a sip of a twenty-five year malt whisky.

God knew, he needed it.

He let the water of life,
uisge
beatha
,
burn his throat and warm his belly before he
responded.

"Not yet. No."

"The end of days approaches."

Duncan nodded in agreement. "Nothing we can do about
it."

"No. But perhaps we have time to plan. To make
ready."

"And yet your power only grows?" Duncan mentioned
the one thing that continued to niggle him, his voice deep and filled with ill
will.

No matter how hard he tried, in his heart he didn't trust
the witch.

Ezekiel met his eye.

"It does," he paused. Then shook his head. "I
am not the only witch and vampyre in this world. All who believe in the power
of magic are reporting an increase in their ability."

"Are they aware of the portals?"

"No. But some... have felt the presence of a great
power, a sly power. It attempts to seduce. It whispers to them in the darkness.
It sings a song to the weak, the vulnerable, the disenfranchised."

Daniel was receiving the message loud and clear.

"Do they have a leader?"

Ezekiel inhaled deeply before he exhaled.

"You remember Ator?"

Duncan frowned, remembering a young vampyre from the past.

"A quiet boy. Shy."

"Quite. For many years he has been holed up in a
monastery in Tibet, out of the reach of The Order. He now has an army."

Duncan went still, placed his glass on the side table and
leaned forward.

"He has built a witch army?"

"Indeed. Right under my nose."

"How many?"

"Five thousand."

Duncan rose, stalked to the balcony and back. "How is
this possible?"

Ezekiel stared into his own whisky glass, took a sip.

"Divide and rule."

"You've lost me."

"The Order have grown powerful while the council
ignored their practice of the old religion. A religion that embraces torture in
an attempt to destroy magic, even white magic. Practitioners of the craft went
underground. Ator's parents entered Dyunik monastery, when he was a child and
they never returned. He now seeks retribution. And it looks as if he may get
it."