Akeldama

Air rushed out of his lungs as the fiend propelled his bulk into him. Conner was taken aback momentarily yet soon took hold of the man's flailing arms. Conner looked into the man's eyes and only saw the insanity that fueled his rage. Conner knew how intoxicating it was, how easy it would be to just give into the insanity. No. Conner couldn't walk that path if he wished to see those destroyed for their crimes against him.

A pang of pity for the man swelled within his chest, yet that was all there was for the man. Bringing his leg up, pressing it against the man's chest, flinging the man across the alley. Jumping to his feet as the man crashed into the brick wall. Conner readied himself if the man thought he'd be taken unaware once again.

"Please, hurt no more," Daniel said, bringing up his arms to shield his face. "Forgive me, I did not know," he said, eyeing the sword wearyingly. Conner eyed the woman's mangled neck, sickened by the man's brutality.

"Who is your master?" Conner asked in a monotone voice masking his emotions. He needed information, and bashing in the man's skull would get him nowhere.

"Master?" Daniel asked, perplexed as he looked up at the strange man. "You master, yes?" His eyes displayed feigned glee.

"No, the one that made you," Conner said, arching an eyebrow. Wondering just how far gone the man's mind was, wondering if it was worth allowing him a few more moments of breath.

"Not master," Daniel's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Master was here then, not here. Master Dustin said he only be gone a day, yet it feels longer than that. I do not know where he has gone." Conner was surprised to hear the sadness in the man's voice.

"Dustin, you say?!" Conner latched onto that bit of information like a tick to a dog. "So this Dustin left you and your house leaderless, interesting. Do you remember which direction your house is?" The man's mood brightened as he vehemently shook his head.

"Yes, yes, I know Dustin told me to always be home before the sun rises," Daniel said, pouring on his madness to lower the man's guard.

"And where is home?" Conner asked, eager to be on his way.

"That way, towards the river, the big brown building looks dull and rundown. Yet inside, it's filled with lights and shiny things," Daniel said, letting out a deranged chuckle.

"What of Dustin's chamber?"

"Hmm." Daniel contemplated for a moment tapping his chin. "Top floor all his, he allows no one to enter, not even poor little old me," he said, picking at his fingernail. "Big windows along the wall he's likes to watch the sunrise. He told me I was too young to join him, although one day I will be able to join him, he told me, that he did."

"Thank you, mad one, you have given me what I sought." Daniel squirmed with anticipation that was swelling in his breast. Soon the man would be gone, and he would find another lovely to play with. If the man could read his mind, the deadly light in his pale blue eyes told him so. "Your House should have seen how far gone you were and placed you into isolation. Where you would be a danger to no one, including yourself. Yet, alas, I have no time to fix what is wrong with you," Conner said, readjusting his grip on his sword. "I am truly sorry about this; not everyone is to be one of us." Horror flashed across Daniel's face as it dawned on him the man never meant to let him go.

"No!" Daniel screamed. His arms outstretched, wanting only to escape so he could indulge in his favorite pastime. The next thing he saw was the pity in the man's eyes, the flash of metal and nothing else.

Conner paced the abandoned rooftop he had stumbled across once he reached the river. For two days after his encounter with the mad one. Conner spent his time recovering his strength and reflecting on how close he had come to losing his own sanity. As the setting sun washed the land in its red hue, Conner listened as Dustin's lackeys tried to bring order to his house. Conner nearly laughed at the sheer madness they seemed to be in without a leader. Had his mother been the one that did this to their people, or were they just so weak they could not think for themselves?

Conner had to admit, at least to himself, his mother had a knack for hiding their houses in plain sight. For he wouldn't have suspected she would allow the homeless to camp out in front of the entrance. Then again, it did bring their meal to their doorstep. Shaking off the thought peering into one of the empty rooms that housed the less fortunate. As he pressed deeper into the interior, Conner listened to the faint whispers and the hum of the electronic motor of the elevator as it sped towards the ground level. His eyes darted side to side, looking for a place to hide long enough for those within the car to pass him.

"I'm telling you, Chris, something's wrong." Came a sweet female voice in time as Conner ducked into the adjacent room. "Dustin just doesn't up and leave without leaving a reason why."

"Well, he is, and it will only be a matter of time before she finds out," Chris said; Conner nearly chuckled at the man's disdain for his mother. "I'm glad I'm not the one who has to inform her of Dustin's absence. Remember Thomas," though he couldn't see the pair yet, Conner knew the woman was nodding, "well, he was the one that told her about the drop in the market, and no one's seen him since."

"Now you're just sinking into your fear," the woman went silent for a moment, "although I have heard rumors that someone has been taking out quite a few of us."

"Now that I would like to see," Chris said, doubling over in laughter.

"No, Chris, I'm serious. Marty told me someone got John from the London House. What about the Paris House that went up in flames a few days earlier."

"Yes, do tell," Conner said, stepping out from his confinement. Hiding his mirth at their stunned and startled looks beneath a mask of stone.

"Who are you?!" the woman stammered, caught off guard by his swift movements. Conner's eyes ran down the small, lithe woman, from her chocolate brown hair, her matching eyes. To her dimpled cheeks, those supple lips, all in all, a very attractive woman. One in which Conner would have taken to his bed long ago. His gaze flickered over to her male counterpart; he was nothing like what his mind imagined. Instead of the hulking brutes, his mother favored long ago stood a boy no older than twenty. Conner couldn't believe the man was a vampire with his lanky arms, a wiry body, and orange-red hair.

"No one you need to be concerned with," Conner said, letting it be known it wasn't up for debate.

"It seems to me that it does when you show up out of the blue on our doorstep," Chris said, stepping in front of his companion. Conner only smiled at the display. "Don't let him frighten you, Mary."

"So your House is leaderless, and you allow the insane to roam the streets," Conner said, letting the accusations hang in the air.

"What do you mean?" Mary said, pushing Chris aside so she could get a better look at the man. Her eyes roamed up his muscled body, the faint scent of blood that clung to him. Noting the bullet hole in the right shoulder of his coat. To his fine jawline, his sharp cheekbones, gazing deeply into his pale blue eyes. To his raven hair as it shadowed his pale skin. "I was not aware that her grace had already sent a Hunter."

"The mad one," Conner said, hiding his scorn. "When I arrived in this city, the man was clearly mad and a danger to our kind."

"Wait, you mean Daniel," Chris said in shock. "You killed him, didn't you?!" he growled, ready to throw himself at the man only to be stopped by the point of a sword.

"Yes, the man you knew no longer existed and had to be put down," Conner said, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"We understand," Mary said, pulling Chris back. She had seen the killer beneath that calm exterior before from her own maker. "What can this House do to aid you?" she asked, giving Chris a look to remain quiet.

"I need to see Dustin's rooms," Conner said matter-of-factly.

"Yes, of course," Mary said, extending her arm, leading them back towards the elevator. She had always heard that Hunters always had a partner to stave off the madness. It was a means so their partner could be their anchor so that the years of their service would not take a toll upon them. Her own maker had suffered from the madness. She had seen how mad he became after his house leader sent him out to hunt down rogue vampires. As the silver-gray doors closed, Mary studied the man's reflection in the polished surface. "It's an odd thing to see an unbound Hunter these days," she said offhandedly. In a split second, what she saw clearly unnerved her. Hunters were supposed to be emotionless yet what she saw was far from it.

"She was murdered." The words came out in a low whisper. Mary and Chris shared a curious look between them as the metal doors slid open. Conner was assaulted by the clamor of noise that filled the bullpen. Even this late an hour, trading was still happening all around the world. Knowing his mother, she wouldn't want to deny herself one penny she could earn. Conner felt their eyes on him as he exited the elevator studying the man that entered their home. They would never openly voice their complaints, yet their eyes spoke volumes. One lone man was not about to let him pass; his hazel eyes locked on him, giving off a sadistic feel.

The 1920's Tiffany lamps sat upon the tables that lined the walls every ten feet. Their deep-sea green shades casting the large area in a soft, warm light. However, in a room full of predators, could anyone think of anything resembling soft or warm. A sadistic look played across his hazel eyes. Conner had seen it far too often in his long life. He, himself, had broken up fights numerous times early in his life when a new member was brought into a House. His mother thought it was amusing to watch the young ones vie for rank. Even though Conner knew she would not raise one of the turned to her court. Straightening his sandy blonde hair, smoothing out the wrinkles in his attire as he walked with smug satisfaction, Conner heard Mary's muted sigh.

"What do we have here?" the man asked, trying to hide his southern drawl. "Looks better than the one Dustin brought in last year."

"Ignore him," Mary whispered. "Adam, this isn't someone you should toy with," she said, pleading with the man.

"Hush you, I run this House until Dustin returns, and I will not have this house eroded by the weak, like this one," Adam said, poking Conner in the chest. Conner's hand flashed out, catching hold of the man's wrist; Adam didn't utter a whimper.

"I have not fed upon my own kind in many days," Conner said, his free hand taking Adam by the throat lifting the man off the ground. True fear played across his face; Conner doubted the man ever saw one such as he. "I am quite thirsty, yet the foulness of your blood would only weaken me," he said, tossing Adam across the room. "Since you, too, share in Dustin's sin, then you, too, shall partake in his punishment." If the man could pale any further, Conner had no doubt he would.

"Come," Mary said, tugging on his arm. Mary had no doubt the man would slaughter everyone that had a hand in Dustin's atrocities. Casting Adam a glance telling him he would remain there if he had any sense until the man was gone. "This will lead you to his chambers," she said. sliding the keycard into the reader. "Will you need anything else?"

Wondering if he truly did feed on their own kind. For if that was true, then Mary could not fathom how old the man was. Mary had assumed the man was two, maybe three hundred years old; no Hunter she knew of could live past their fifth century. Given how their minds disintegrated after every kill they made. Many sought the burning rays of oblivion over the madness that was sure to overtake them. Yet here was a man that surpassed all those that came before them. An uneasy feeling washed over her as she watched the metal door slide closed.

******

Mary paced behind her desk, where she had spent most of the century. However, she was good at her job, and there was nothing like outmaneuvering another trader on the floor. However, the days were getting tedious and lacking any mental stimuli that would have even a slug bored. Her ill feelings towards that strange man still swirled in her mind. Her slender hand rested on her desk phone, pondering if she should inform the Queen. Yet this was not the time for her lowborn status to interfere with what must be done. Her heart hammered in her chest as she dialed the Queen's private number.

"Yes?" Mary's knees felt like rubber as Helen's honey-toned voice came over the line. "Speak up, child. I do not have all night for you to learn how to breathe."

"Forgive me, my Queen. I do not mean to question you or who you send."

"My dear, I have not sent anyone to your House." Panic spread throughout her being as Mary looked towards the elevator.

"If you did not send him, then who is he?" Mary whispered, sinking down into her chair.

"I do not know, my dear, all I can say is destroy everything that can be traced to us and have your House immigrate to the capital. Here, at least, we can protect you from whomever Dustin is involved with."

"Yes, my Queen," Mary replied hastily. Shouting out Helen's orders, Mary watched as they scrambled to remove every trace of their presence from the building. Mary looked towards the elevator hoping the man had other things to keep him occupied. For if her hunch was right, then not one of them could survive against an elder.

******

His fingers tapped against his legs as the elevator sped upwards. Conner couldn't believe he walked through Dustin's house unmolested. He had far too much to do to allow the young upstart to stand in his way. As the doors rolled open, stepping onto the black rug that greeted the visitors. Flood lights flared, blinding Conner momentarily, beeps chirped in the cavernous room as spots danced before his eyes. Berating himself lifting up the rug, a pressure pad laid beneath the cheap polyester rug. Thin red wires branched out nestled within the grooves of the hardwood floor. Conner had a feeling he wasn't going to like what he found at the end of those wires. As he followed it to its end, leading Conner to a walnut armoire.

"Aw, hell!"

******

The cold night air chilled her to the bone as she waited for the next car to arrive. Her breath came out in great clouds of fog as her foot tapped the sidewalk. Jumping as the giant fireball shot out from the windows that lined Dustin's rooms. Her eyes caught the silhouette of a man as he leapt from the window before the fire could consume his body. Mary watched as the man's arms flailed, as the flames trailed his body as he sped towards the ground.

"What the...?!" Chris muttered as he came up to Mary's side. They watched the charred body landing on the nearby BMW. Shattering the glass of the car's windows, sending out the lethal shards in all directions. Metal groaned as it gave into gravity's pull on the man's body.

"Someone put him out and get a body bag!" Mary yelled, coming to her senses.

"Are you insane, Mary?!" Chris said, aghast.

"No." How she wished he was more courageous and outgoing, yet her hopes were dashed as she saw his fear. For too many years, he had hidden behind that cowardly exterior, and she was sick of it. "We just lost our House. Do you really want to show up at the capital, tell the Queen we had the man yet were too afraid to go near him? What do you think she will do to us if we allow this opportunity to pass us?" Mary asked, throwing up her hands at his gaping mouth. "If you can't do it, then go and hide; I, for one, will not let the chance pass me by," she said, stalking off towards the trio as they hosed the man down. Holding back her tears as she felt the car pass by her, all that was left was three of the youngest Hunters and herself. The slight movements of his fingers, the low moans of pain that escaped his bloody, blackened lips caught her attention. "Get the body bag, now!" A smile graced her fine lips, knowing this would finally achieve what she sought.

*******

A small, slender dagger rested in her lap as she watched over her charge. Miles of twists and turns were behind them, yet not even a flicker of life emanated from her captive. Biting her lip, wondering if he had passed beyond the veil, or was he merely conserving his strength. Still, they weren't taking any chances that the man might recover on the trip to the capital. As the van slowed to a crawl, she peered through the loose strands of her hair. Pink hues dusted the sky, foretelling the arrival of a new day.

Her pink nails clinked on the blade of her dagger, waiting for something to happen. Mary wasn't about to be taken by surprise this close to their destination. As the garage door closed, protecting them from the sun's deadly rays. Her heart hammered in her chest, waiting for the garage motor to cease. Mary jolted upright as the van's rear doors were flung open. Her eyes grew wide as Queen Helen stood there, her pale arms outstretched. Her silk maroon gown flowed effortlessly over her taut body. Her raven hair was held back by a diamond-encrusted headband; her glacial blue eyes lingered upon the body bag.

"Ah, Mary, was it?" Mary was too stunned to speak. If she had known that the Queen would greet them, she would have worn something other than her torn jeans and faded nine-inch nails T-shirt. "This is the one that impersonated one of my Hunters?"

"Yes, my Queen, I believe he is still alive." Mary didn't miss the glee that danced along her eyes.

"Good," Helen said, holding out her hand. "You have done this House a great service. Name it, and it shall be yours," she said, smiling sweetly at the girl.

"I... I want to be taken into a House," Mary stammered.

"Looking for a mate, I see," Helen teased. "No harm in that," she said, patting Mary's hand. "I do believe Lord Harland has been looking for a daughter, and I'm sure he will be very pleased."

"Thank you, my Queen," Mary said, bowing low.

"Come, I shall introduce you," Helen said, looping her arm around Mary's. "See to that," she said to the two guards as she pointed at the body bag. Once word had reached her that her son was being brought to her, she made certain that those lesser creatures wouldn't disturb him. A hot bloodbath awaited him; she only hoped his body wasn't too mangled.

Mary could hardly believe it as she walked alongside her Queen. Mary tried to ease her frayed nerves, yet how could one do that when you walked alongside one of the oldest of their kind who was also their Queen. So lost in her own mind, she failed to notice the fine wood carvings that dominated the paneling center. Nor did she notice the late 19^th-century gas lamps that had been retrofitted to burn electricity, that sat fixed three-fourths of the way up the walls. The subtle hints of incense that drifted into the hallway from the adjoining rooms, nor the fact that they had come to a stop until Mary heard Helen's soft rasp of her knuckles echoing down the corridor.

"Yes?" answered a page that appeared to be no older than eleven. His blue-green eyes grew wide as he took note of Helen's presence.

"Is your master here?" Helen asked, smiling sweetly at the boy. Seconds passed before the boy's mind could function enough to respond.

"One moment," the boy stammered before softly closing the door.

"My Queen, what a delight," Lord Harland said as he ushered them in. His sandy brown hair was streaked with gray due to his age before he was turned. In the age of England's war with Scotland, Helen had taken advantage of the chaos that ensued. Helen had kept an eye on the man for years, from his large swath of land he governed to the numerous sorties that led to his victories over the Scots.