Raving Moon, Lords of the Night Book One

Chapter 3: Ashes to Ashes

The taxi driver rolled to a stop. Through the windshield, I could see the empty street, no cars and no pedestrians. We were forty feet from the stoplight and the intersection. Hands shaking, sweat dripped freely down the side of his face.

"Th... this is as f... far as I go, buddy," he stammered.

I didn't ask any questions. I paid and got out. As I got my bearings, he backed down the road and made a u-turn, leaving me alone on the desolate street. Unease permeated the air. I couldn't blame the man for running. He was under attack.

I stood at the edge of a cluster of office buildings on Kraken Island, surrounded by offices and courthouses. Across the river, the Tartarus skyline towered. A breeze blew in off the river, providing a bit of relief from the stifling humidity. I searched the night with more than my eyes for the source of uneasiness, which was, even at that moment, keeping me from going any further. I finally spotted him on the steps of the Stheno County Supreme Court.

Looking directly at him, he appeared to be a column of black wisps. His true form was visible only in my peripheral vision, a man in black with eyes like smoldering coals. Fighting every instinct in me to retreat, I advanced. The closer I got, the less his specter suit fooled my eyes. Thrones were charged with keeping the true world secret, and our uniforms were the first line of defense. Human eyes would be unable to break the enchantment upon the clothing, but the people of the community were able to see the truth.

The throne jumped to his feet as I reached the foot of the steps.

"Lieutenant, I hadn't realized it was you."

"It's fine, sergeant, just do me a favor." I said, gesturing towards the space around my head.

He stared at me, and I could feel the unease spill away. He was a Blood Lord, the elite among vampire society. His was a dominance mutated into a form of mass hysteria which he could command and manipulate. Unfortunately he was also half-blind, and slow of wit. He would never advance higher within the ranks of the thrones, despite the strength of his ligne de sang.

I wondered whether he was brought in to keep the streets clear or he'd responded to the emergency code. With his influence no longer weighing me down, I sprinted down the street towards the commotion I heard clearly now that his power had receded.

The scene spread throughout a small tree-lined plaza. Bands of disruption tape stretched around the location, making it impossible to film or record. Four black vans bordered the plaza, windows tinted, license plates bordered by more disruption tape. Crime scene investigators walked the perimeter and examined the plaza. While their human counterparts might have needed flashlights, vampires needed very little light to see in the dark. The distant streetlights were more than enough illumination. More Thrones prowled the nearby rooftops. Their jobs were to keep the perimeter safe from prying eyes. All wore specter suits.

A group of Thrones secured a man in the back of one van, his throat slit wide, his eyes wide in shock. They placed him in a steel and silver pillory designed to keep the neck wound open. As long as his neck was slit he'd remain in shock and immobile for transport. The man looked vaguely familiar but I couldn't remember why.

There was a commotion at the back of a second van, but before I could investigate I was intercepted by the throne in charge.

"Lieutenant Michèle."

"Lieutenant Masterson." He was being uncharacteristically formal. "What happened here? HQ sent out an emergency alert: 2 Broken Swords."

"Yeah. We were lucky it wasn't three," he said with a shake of his head. "Brace yourself."