《Ancient Fangs: HOUSE AMULIUS (Book 2)》 Chapter 1.0 A Night on the Town In a messed-up world full of the stubbornly mundane trying to be superficially extraordinary, drunk nights could be impossibly trite. At least for a truly wasted person who wanted to be more plastered than he ever was in his life. It was the fourth bar for Jake. He had meandered along in a drunken daze along the brightly lit strip the locals called Pleasure Row. After drinking beer or whiskey at the bar, he had left the other three for purely subjective reasons. The first was a favorite watering hole for apparently successful yuppies. The bright, young faces glowing with the aura of shallow success, the branded and fashionable attire on casual yet arrogant display, the way the guys looked like they were already sure of scoring for the night, all just made him more miserable. A few beers and he was out of the pub. The damned place even smelled of expensive perfume. The Copa Bar was a little better though it was filled with employees out for a night of drinking. At first, he didn¡¯t mind the loud voices bragging about promotions, projects done, and inter-office fucking. But little by little, the nonsense topics started to remind him of what a loser he was. How he got fired three days ago - being absent from work when he sent back the divorce documents his bitch of a wife sent him. It just took him an hour of not being around, a freaking thirty minutes. It was time enough for hackers to devastate the entire data system of the company. It was his shift as the Cyber Security Supervisor and the whole team got fired. And now, office mumbo-jumbo assaulted his ears. Not that he could tune the conversations out. His years of training and traitorous instincts wouldn¡¯t allow him. What a way to get drunk, he mused. You get reminded over and over again on what a loser you were. All Jake wanted was a quiet night of drinking out, one last look at the world which fucked up his life. He couldn¡¯t even drink at home. The repo man had fun with it five days ago. That humiliating episode was on the heels of receiving divorce papers from that back-stabbing slut, his wife. The bitch had the gall to file for divorce! After spending and running off with Jake¡¯s hard-earned money. With her bastard stud. She did have the brilliant survival sense of moving to another state on the other side of the continent. Bed and board gone, the nook he had found was far better than the isolated and dangerous spots Jake had the displeasure to use when on deep missions in the rocky crags of Afghanistan and Syria. Some assholes tried to disturb him while he was sleeping, seeking to practice armed proselytizing about their lofty aim of spreading the principle of unequal distribution of wealth. They now have to worry about dislocated bones and hematomas. Jake did seriously consider a permanent retirement for a few of the extremely unsavory ones, but regretfully reconsidered. Beatings, no matter no matter severe, might be overlooked by those with shiny badges, but dead bodies would. That was for a night,because Steve found out about it. Jake had left his meager belongings with his friend. When Stevediscovered the truth, the man insisted that Jake stay with him. He finally agreed, but asked tolive in the garage. Steve had a great wife, and Jake didn''t want to impose more than he had to. The third bar was a mistake. A large group of jeering neurons was loudly laughing at him for barging into the place. All he wanted was a joint where the liquor was cheap and plentiful. And a quiet corner to drink himself to oblivion. What Jake got was an LGBT singles club. After some beers and a few flirting passes directed at him, he gave up and went out. A few free drinks from admirers was a bonus. Once outside, bleary eyes looked at the name of the bar: Michelangelo. He mentally kicked himself.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. The fourth drinking spot was an out-of-the-way bar, with a small neon light and a single door to mark its existence. If his drunk senses hadn¡¯t noticed a figure jumping over a wall in the alley, he couldn¡¯t have discovered the place. The door of the establishment, called Vita Bebe, was locked and soon became the target of furious knocking on his part. The door opened, revealing a tall and muscular black man. ¡°What do you want?¡± came the terse query. ¡°You got whiskey? A double of Johnny B.,¡± Jake drunkenly asked. He could hear music in the background ¡ª nice and soothing sounds. The smell of cigarette smoke and furniture desperately in need of airing flowed out. Laughter could be heard, and a strange excitement was in the air. He didn¡¯t give a shit. ¡°Yes, sir. But this place is for members only,¡± came the answer, though after the yes, Jake didn¡¯t hear the rest of the reply. He pushed the door back and barged in, his momentum and sudden movement enough to put the bouncer off balance. The man¡¯s fingers landed on his shoulder, trying to grab him as he made his way past the guard. Jake¡¯s right hand instinctively reacted to the offending digits. A scream came from the black man as he sank to his knees, clutching his broken fingers. Jake didn¡¯t pay attention to it; he was focused on the bar where a small, thin and impeccably dressed man was serving drinks. The residents of entire place suddenly fell silent, leaving only the music to disturb the air. Eyes followed Jake as he wove his way to a vacant chair. Several figures came from the shadows and started to move toward the uncaring Jake. A soft whistle sounded, and they stopped in their tracks. As if a switch was thrown, the silence which ruled the atmosphere disappeared as laughter and the sound of conversation returned. The door closed and thecrippled bouncer was led to another door. Jake watched with unfocused eyes as the man was helped from the entrance by two black-suited men. He raised his glass of whiskey to the whimpering bouncer, a skewed and alcohol-glazed smile on his face. The drink had appeared on the bar counter as if by magic. The bartender was a fast dispenser of the delights of Dionysus. I might be in the right place after all, thought Jake, his happily soused brain remembering how quickly the double shot of whiskey appeared. On the rocks, at that. The hubbub was just at the right level: no loud conversations, groups of twos and threes among the tables and the many secluded private cubicles. Men and women were languidly dancing, their faces and figures only coming to view only when lit by the revolving and throbbing multicolored lights focused on the dance area. Dim illumination, to thepoint of being dark, lit the rest of the place. He emptied the whiskey glass and turned to the bartender, but another full glass was already before him. Love that man, he happily thought as he toasted the drink in the direction of the bartender who was on the other side of the counter. As he did so, the man looked at him with an expressionless face. ¡°Love you man!¡± Jake cried out and then threw the drink down his throat. As he put the shot down, another glass was already waiting for him. Jake happily smiled. ¡°Yep! A double love, bro!¡± he added. The bartender looked at Jake, face blank as ever, and with a quick nod, acknowledged him. A sudden movement caught Jake¡¯s attention; a man had moved onto the seat beside him. Though soused, thestubborn part of his mind which refused to get drunk noted that the area of the bar counter where he sat was unoccupied, two seats on either side were vacant. The other sections of the long counter were crowded. He examined the newcomer out of the corner of his eyes. Quite young, around 26 to 27 years old, with an expensive looking blue blazer over a tee shirt, jeans, and trendy loafers. The bartender immediately produced a drink which he put down in front of the newcomer. Must be a regular, thought Jake. Then he went back to the business of being drunk as hell. ¡°Hi, you must be a new member,¡± said the man. ¡°Member?¡± ¡°Man, this is a member¡¯s only club. And what you did to Roger wasn¡¯t nice. Though impressive. He¡¯s a Ranger veteran, after all. I didn¡¯t even see what you did. It was that fast.¡± The voice was friendly. Calm. Collected. With just the right amount of arrogant superiority. Not enough to raise Jake¡¯s hackles. ¡°A Ranger, huh? Must have gone soft. He should have thought twice before laying hands on a stranger. Had his chance the moment I entered the door,¡± slurred Jake. ¡°Oh. You¡¯re a vet? What unit?¡± ¡°Sorry. Classified as hell. I could tell you, not that it matters now anyway. But no. Too many bad memories.¡± ¡°No problem, Jake.¡±
Chapter 2.0 An Affair to Remember ¡°Do I know you?¡± Even in his clouded daze, Jake noticed the odd familiarity with which he was called. A cold feeling came over him. It was strangely similar to what gripped him in those tense moments back in the Afghan mountains when he was the prey, not the predator. Despite his inebriated state, the body followed instinct and shifted to ready mode. He quickly glanced at the intruder. A clean-shaven, handsome face looked back at him. It wore a knowing smile and an aura of wealth. Of power. Jake was pissed off. He would have told the guy to fuck off, but something in him held back. ¡°No, not really. But our security systems here are state of the art. Face-recognition software included. We ran an immediate check on you when Roger became¡­ incapacitated.¡± Jake¡¯s mind cleared a bit as his adrenaline kicked in. If true, then it promised things he didn¡¯t want to be reminded about. His background was something he wanted to forget. He hoped the backcheck was limited in scope. He was wrong. ¡°Jake E. Santos. Marine, SEAL, Delta Force, and then reassigned to the NSA as field cybersecurity personnel. That¡¯s the official designation. Honorably discharged. Most of your files require TS/SCI clearance. Medals galore, some under TS classification. Recently fired from work. The subject of divorce proceedings.¡± ¡°Fucking internet,¡± Jake cursed. ¡°What else? My shoe size, shit and fart times?¡± ¡°Sorry, Jake. You¡¯re in the cyber field. You know what the tech is capable of,¡± answered the man with a tight smile. ¡°I am Darryl, by the way.¡± ¡°Give me a drink while I try to forget the fucking intrusion on my privacy,¡± he answered angrily. Darryl raised his hand, and a glass of whiskey appeared before Jake. ¡°The man is quick as the Devil,¡± he commented with wonder. ¡°That he is. Not the Devil, of course, but nearly there,¡± replied his companion. The bartender returned and placed a bottle and an ice holder before Jake. ¡°On the house,¡± said Darryl. ¡°Just consider possible employment here.¡± ¡°As a bouncer? Nah. There¡¯s too great a chance for fatal accidents,¡± Jake answered, shaking his head. The man rested both arms on the counter. Idly, Jake noticed the fingers were long and thin. A diamond-encrusted watch graced the wrist, gold bands the fingers. Save me. A freaking rich millennial. "You''re overqualified for that, Jake. Though I am curious why you believe there''s a chance for lethal mishaps." "Too long in the field, too fond of drink, too much muscle memory, uncontrolled instinctive reaction. I don''t trust myself with anything involving physical conflict," replied Jake as he tossed another shot of whiskey down. Darryl laughed, the sound verging on tittering. Jake hated it. "Anyway, come back tomorrow night. We''ll talk about the job offer. It pays well, Jake. Very well," finally said Darryl, just as a woman in a black dress sidled up to him.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. She was beautiful, though the face looked weary. Her curvy figure was wrapped in a thin black dress which almost left nothing to the imagination. The lights coming from the dance floor didn¡¯t show panty lines. Nor was she wearing any bra to constrict the ample mounds of tantalizing flesh. Jake could see her nipples as they pushed again the gauzy fabric. "Darius, darling. Who''s your friend? He looks delicious," the brunette newcomer exclaimed, slowly looking at Jake from head to toe. He started to feel hot. Suddenly, her hand reached out and held his biceps. Her touch was unnaturally cold against Jake''s warm flesh. As he involuntarily drew back from the unexpected and uncomfortable sensation, Darryl''s hand shot out and grabbed the woman''s wrist. She gave an anguished cry and dropped to her knees on the floor, her arm still held by the man. Darryl leaned down and whispered in the woman''s left ear. The woman turned her head to the side. Jake could see she was visibly shaking. He noticed the grip on the wrist was painfully tight. The skin around the area of the wrist gripped by Daryl wrinkled from the force exerted by the man. "Hey, man. It''s okay. No reason to get rough, even if she''s your girlfriend," said Jake. Darryl let go of the wrist in a forceful downward motion, throwing the hand back at the now bowed woman slumped on the floor. Nobody seemed to notice the little drama. The man stood up and glanced at Jake. "Enjoy our hospitality tonight, Mr. Santos. I''ll see you tomorrow night," said Darryl in another tight smile. Then he walked away. The woman got up and quickly scampered after him. Jake stared at their backs as they disappeared in the crowd of dancers. Weirdos, he thought. And Darius? Well, if I were him, I would have gone with Darryl too. *** Jake had a few more drinks and left. The incident gnawed at his instincts. It made him uncomfortable and made him decide to find another place. His bottle was still three-fourths full, but the bartender promised to keep it for him. He was intended to come back - the mysterious job offer intrigued him. The statement that it would pay well did help. As long as it''s not illegal, he thought as he made his tipsy way to the door. His drunkenness was lifting. Fuck this metabolism. At this rate, I won''t be able to get plastered. He went out to the dark and deserted alley and saw the neon lights of another pub farther down. Jake gave an anticipatory smile and walked toward the place. Midway to his destination, a shadow detached itself from the darkness of the side street and stood in the middle of the road. "Hi, Jake." It was a feminine voice. Fuck. It''s Darryl''s girlfriend, realized Jake as he recognized the voice. He stopped. The figure slowly moved toward him. His eyes swept around the street. A quick glance at his back revealed nobody. They were alone in that darkened stretch. "Oh, hi. Does Darryl know you''re out here?" he asked. "No." Now, this is a shit of a situation. I''m going to blow my chance at employment for a quick street fuck? "I think you should go back to the club, Miss. I would hate to blow my chance at new employment because of you," said Jake. The woman didn''t stop and continued walking to him, nonchalantly removing one of the straps of her black dress. "Why? Don''t you like me, Jake? Am I not sexy enough for you?" said the figure, a strange sensuous sultriness now accompanied her voice. "I don''t like fucking with another guy''s girlfriend, that''s all," he replied. He was now finding it difficult to think. It was weird, but he was getting a hard-on. "He doesn''t have to know," came the provocative answer, full of erotic promises. The other strap had dropped. Jake tried to reply, but found he couldn''t think straight. The woman was now a few feet away, so close that he could smell her sultry perfume. He sensed something was wrong about the entire situation, but a powerful lust threatened to overcome whatever resistance his addled brain was putting up. He violently shook his head, trying to clear his mind. The woman stood before him. He felt sexually excited as never before as an overwhelming need for her rose and set him on fire. His mind was clouded by an uncontrollable desire to fuck. Suddenly, he forcibly embraced the woman, took in her overpowering sexual scent, and started kissing her neck as his hands raced through her voluptuous form. All his senses were now drunk with her scent and nearness, and he didn''t feel the unusual coldness of the woman''s touch. All Jake craved was to take her there, in the middle of the darkened street. As she embraced him back, Jake felt another uncontrollable surge of hunger for her. He could feel her breath on his neck and nearly lost it from the incredible sensation. His hands gripped her ass as he continued licking up to her ear. Then he felt the bite on his neck.
Book II, Prologue: Conversations.
A luxurious study in a private estate.
Upstate New York.
moroi,¡± replied the being called Leo. He knew full well what it meant by refusing to call Markus by his name. And there wasn¡¯t a thing the moroi could do about it.
moroi?¡±
***
High above the Atlantic Ocean.
Onboard a Dassault Falcon 8X private jet.
***
In a large basement below the 3rd level parking lot of a mall.
Downtown Chicago.
***
The backroom of a bar.
Los Angeles.
***
The penthouse of a modern office building.
Downtown San Francisco.
Idiot, thought Bernard as he exchanged looks with the men beside him. Nobody said anything.
Fucking moron, reflected Bernard. This Ralph may be good at what he does, but it''s evident that this is a job several levels way above his head. Whoever recommended him is another idiot.
A mere bounty hunter, Bernard concluded. Finally, the veteran saw Ralph nod his head and agree to take on the task. The bounty and its terms were clearly a lot more generous than any he had ever been offered in his entire life.
n¡¯est-ce pas issue, my friend. Are you in or out? Simple really. And it seemed you have made the decision earlier,¡± said the speaker who now held out his left arm towards the others, palm out, gesturing at them not to get involved.
etre dans la galere, or as you Americans so ineloquently put it, get yourself in the same mess. Oh, there will be competition. As I said, other corporations are extremely and dangerously interested. Feel free to eliminate whoever is in your way.¡±
What in the nine hells have I gotten myself into? thought Bernard as he turned his attention back to the folder in his hands. As he turned the cover page of the file, a grainy photograph greeted him. Only part of the right side of the figure¡¯s face could be seen, but Bernard knew that silhouette well.
Jake? Book II, Chapter 1.0 Research If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.