Renegade: Vampire Outlaw

Chapter Seven

Vampire Outlaws, MC

Brooklyn, New York

Zane

A two-door stainless steel bar cooler sat enclosed on the bottom left side of my desk. Blood bags filled with bright red cells were chilled but once heated up in the microwave, it tasted all the same. I sat at my desk and opened one of the doors, grabbing a blood bag at random, not caring about the blood type. Then I popped the top off with my teeth and squeezed the bag firmly in my hand. I moaned. Ah, sweet, sweet nectar. My body felt more energized, more alive. And the constant hunger in the pit of my stomach had finally been quenched.

I squeezed what little blood remained in the bag then tossed it into the waste bin nearby. I licked my lips, my fangs went away, but I wasn't opposed to the idea of a second helping. But before I could act on that thought I heard a knock at the door. Colt, my second in command, poked his head inside and I waved at him to come in.

"What is it?"

"The shipment arrives tonight. I've got the address."

"And the money?"

"All ready packed and ready to go."

"Good. Tell the boys we'll leave in ten minutes."

"You got it."

After Colt had shut the door behind him, I pulled out my cell phone and opened up my most recent text messages. Caleb was at the top of that list and that made me happy. Tapping on his last message, a digital keyboard appeared as I began to type.

Zane: Hey. What are you doing?

A few minutes went by before I received a response.

Caleb: Just took a shower. Now I'm wondering what to have for dinner. You?

Zane: I'm about to head out, actually. The boys and I have got some things to do in town for a bit. But once I'm done. Do you want me to come over?

Caleb: Yeah, sure. That'd be great.

Zane: Perfect. I look forward to seeing you soon.

I smiled. After locking the screen on my phone, I emerged from behind my desk. A gun vault stood in the back corner of the room, containing an assortment of different firearms, ammo, and a few stacks of cold hard cash. Picking out a gun was easy. And I never left the club without two nestled underneath my vest. A few spare magazines and a couple of knives, and soon I was ready to go do business.

Music blared, its vibrations muffled, seeping in through the walls as I made my way downstairs. Colt and the rest of the gang were already waiting for me outside by the time I arrived.

"Fire up those engines, boys," I said, walking up to the front of the line. "It's time for another meeting." Pause. "Is the van all loaded up?" I asked Colt.

"All gassed up and ready to go. You know, it's almost time for another initiation."

I nodded. "Yeah, I suppose it is. But we'll discuss it later. It's time to ride."

New York Harbor sits at the mouth of the Hudson River where it empties into New York Bay and the Atlantic Ocean. It's also the prime location for one of our monthly shipments. The moon is clearly visible and the stars are out. We park in the back and dismount from our bikes, as I give the men the order to spread out, but stay in close contact in case things get a little trigger happy. When we arrive at the exact location a man steps out from the darkness. Dressed in a fine Italian suit with green eyes, and salt and pepper hair. Lorenzo aka The Boss ran the Italian mob here in New York.