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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

HARLEN

I was on the team now, per my brothers’ instructions. I had a meeting with Natasha, and I still wasn’t sure if I liked her. She was important to Zand, and she was a part of the package if I wanted to stay in his good graces.

I walked into her office and took in all the surveillance cameras mounted on the walls. I slouched down in the chair across from her desk, waiting for her to acknowledge me. Her fingers moved across the keyboard with military precision. Tap-tap-tap was the sound merging with the soft hum of the six monitors arranged in a horseshoe around her enormous desk. The head of security had summoned me. But now she wanted to ignore me.

Things had changed so drastically from when Zand was back in LA. My meek and well-mannered brother was a vampire boss. He was in charge of a clan. People were in his organization, and they listened to him. He was, in some ways, their vampire king. This was in complete opposition to the vamp he was just a few years ago.

My brother Alexander Valentine had amassed an empire. My brother was a king to his people. I was proud of his accomplishments. Being the brother of the King had to come with perks. I didn’t know what they were yet, but I was going to wait around and see. Chicago was a new start for me, too.

In this town, I had Morgan. She was the human whose company I enjoyed. Just like Zand, I wanted Teresa out of the picture. As much as Zand didn’t want to be reminded of her betrayal. She was a reminder that I had betrayed him. She had to vanish, and I didn’t care if that meant a voluntary disappearance or an ultimate death.

“What are you doing?” Her heavy accent jarred me from my daydreams of Morgan’s tits. “Why are you fidgeting like a child?” Natasha asked without looking at me. My eyes went down to my knees. I hadn’t realized I was even moving. “Sit still.” She ordered.

I forced my knees to stop bouncing. I leaned back and crossed my arms instead. Natasha Ivanova, The Guardian, as she was known in our secret circles. She was the closest thing to a Wonder Woman vampire that I’ve ever encountered. Not that I’d tell her that to her face. She’d probably shot me with a flamethrower for the comparison, or torture me in some sadistic way.

“I’ve been sitting here for five minutes,” I said, glancing at my wristwatch. “If you wanted me to watch you type, you could’ve just sent a video.”

The corner of her mouth twitched. “You believe yourself to be funny. Patience is a virtue, Harlen Corbin Valentine.” She said my first, middle, and last name like it offended her.

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on her spotless desk. “Yeah, well, I have patience. But I thought I was here about Teresa. I thought you had some news.”

Natasha looked up from her keyboard. She fixed her cobalt blue eyes on me, eyes that seem to catalogue every weakness. “This is precisely why I called you here. Come, to this side of my desk.”

I rose to my feet, walking around the desk and took my place behind Natasha. She tapped a key, and suddenly all six monitors sprung to life with different camera angles. My eyes focused on the grainy black and white footage from what I recognized as Chicago’s Street cameras. It took me a moment to realize what, or rather who, I was looking at.

“Teresa.” I mouthed the name of the woman that seduced me into betraying my brother.

My brother’s ex-wife moved through the footage like a ghost, her posture perfect, her stride purposeful. Even in the grainy surveillance footage, there was something seductive and predatory about the way she navigated the night streets. She wove in between humans with the grace of a shark moving through a school of fish.

“How did you find this?” I asked, leaning over Natasha and closer to the screens.

“I hacked into the law enforcement database and city traffic cams CCTV network.” She explained with no sense of remorse.

Now I really understood why Natasha was Zand’s right-hand man or woman. Not only was she beautiful, but she was also a skilled fighter. She was smart. She was the total package and someone you would want on your team. Now I wondered how he found her. Or did she find him? Zand was surrounded by people that would fight for him, and I didn’t know any of these vampires. I had no origins or backstory.

“And I’m sure you acquired those tools legally.” I joked.

Natasha ignored me, typing commands that make the footage advance frame by frame. “I tracked her from where you and Zand confronted her two nights ago. We last saw her at The Castle’s side entrance. She walked down the alleyway going east.”

The screen showed Teresa emerging from the alley. Her face was turned away from the cameras. She swiftly moved east, then south, crossing through areas where the camera coverage was spotty. Natasha had pieced together her route like a puzzle, sometimes with only seconds of footage before Teresa disappeared again, only to resurface a few paces away.

“Do you think she knows where the street cameras are?” I asked.

“Maybe, but she’s not that smart. All the cameras aren’t visible to the general public. I find that the newer vampires seem to forget the things that were so common when they were humans. Teresa is a new vampire. She doesn’t have the time we all put into being vamps.”

“Yes, she’s young. I think it’s only been seven years for her.”

“Even if she’s aware of all the cameras, there is no reason she thinks we have the resources to track her. The worst case is she wanted us to track her and find her. She may think she’s setting a trap, but there’s nothing I’ve seen of this vampire that leads me to believe she’s some mastermind. I only see an entitled human that was made into a vampire and can’t handle vampirism or rejection from her maker. Vampires love their makers because we are grateful to them, not because we are sired to them. Her behavior with Zand is just the lingering feelings of possessiveness that humans feel. Sometimes it takes up to ten years for human feelings to dissipate and the vampire genome to completely take over.”

“How do you know all of this?” I asked, intrigued by her information.

“I’m a student of Heinrich August Ossenfelder and Richard von Krafft-Ebing.”

“Who?” I never heard of those dudes.

Natasha turned back to glare at me. “And they say Americans are stupid.”

“Who said that?”

“You American vampires know nothing about your vampire history. You people really need to read a book.”

“How old are you?”

“None of your business. Stupid questions get zero answers.”

“Sorry, I asked. You must be very ancient.”

“Enough of this useless banter.” Natasha tapped another key, and one monitor enlarged to show Teresa approaching a building with a neon sign. “She was here at Club Bailar Caliente. It’s a Mexican club on the West Side. She enters at 11:42 PM and leaves at 2:17 AM. Go, back, and sit.” She orders me and I do as I am told.

My fingers drum against the arm of the chair. “A Mexican club? She was White. I think maybe Polish before she was turned. She’s not exactly the nightlife type. She did work in a small dive bar when she was human.”

“Maybe she’s hunting.” Natasha said. “It’s easier to bleed and kill the people of color. When they go missing, the public doesn’t seem to notice or care. Minority mysterious deaths rarely make the news. Black and brown people are safer and easier targets for vampires.”

The implication hung between us. Teresa, like all of us, needs to feed. But unlike my brother Zand, who has established rules and protocols for feeding within his territory, Teresa has always been a rule breaker. Keeping our existence a secret has meant that we had to stop killing humans. We don’t need to murder to survive and most of us adhere to this rule of not taking human lives. We know we’re stronger and superior. Therefore, we have nothing to prove.

“I did a deep dive and hacked all the cameras outside the club. Teresa has been back three times in the past week.” Natasha continued, pulling up more footage. “Always alone, always leaving alone. But she stays for hours.”

“Are there any cameras inside the club?”

“I don’t think so. I can’t seem to pick up on anything inside.”

I ran a hand through my short hair. I sometimes forget that I cut it all off. “So, what’s at this club? What is she doing in there?”

“This is what you will find out.” Natasha swiveled in her chair. “I need you to stake out the club. Follow the lovesick bitch if she emerges. Find out what she is doing, who she is meeting.”

My stomach tightened. “Why me?” I asked, though I already know the answer. “Zand has an entire security team.”

“Because I can’t leave Zand unprotected, and I know you want her dead just as much as I do.” Natasha said bluntly. Then, seeing my expression, she softened slightly.

“How do you know I want her dead?”

“She is the only thing left that stands between you getting your relationship back with Zand. Teresa is living proof of the knife you shoved in your brother’s back. If she is dead, the reminder of your betrayal is dead, too. You want to be in Zand’s inner circle. You want his love back more than anything. Look at me and tell me I am wrong?”

She had read me like she had a direct line into my brain stem. “You’re not wrong. I want things to go back to the way it was before Teresa came into our lives. I want my brother back. I want his forgiveness, not his tolerance.”

“Your honestly is what makes you the perfect vampire for the job. You know Teresa. You can recognize her patterns, her body language. Things others might miss, you will see.”

I couldn’t argue with that logic. “Fine.” I said, leaning back. “But I’m not walking the city streets. I’m going to need a car.”

Natasha nodded and reached into her desk drawer. She pulled out a set of car keys and slid them across to me. “Dark sedan, unmarked, parked in the private lot. Tank is full.”

Next came a cell phone—old-school flip model, the kind that couldn’t be easily tracked. “Burner phone. My hot number is only one programmed. Call if you see something significant. Text for minor updates. Do not take your personal cell phone. If you are captured or killed, there is no way to get the numbers of Zand’s people.”

I pocketed both items, already mentally preparing for a long night of surveillance. “Anything else I should know?”

Natasha’s expression grew severe. “Do not engage unless absolutely necessary. You observe, you report back. This is reconnaissance only. There is a time to take her out and that time will be planned without any mishaps.”

“Got it. I’m a shadow. Just watching, not touching.”

“This is serious, Harlen.” Her voice took on an edge that made me pay attention.

I nodded, understanding the gravity of what she was asking. Despite my reputation for impulsiveness, I knew when a situation calls for caution and discretion. “I’m not going to do anything to fuck this up.”

“I may have found a way to kill a vampire without the loud and noticeable use of fire. I need to see if my potion works. Teresa will be my test dummy.”

“What? A potion?”

“It’s a secret potion. In these modern times, we need to move with secrecy. Setting vamps ablaze and watching them burn to ashes is just prehistoric. I’ve been working on something. I need her alive to test my quiet death.”

Was Natasha a scientist too? Did she really have some poison elixir that could kill vampires? “Wait. What are you talking about?”

“You heard me. It’s my secret weapon. If it works, we will reign without the threat of any vampires who dare challenge us.”

“Does my brother know about this?”

“Of course he does. He funded my research. He knows, I know, and now you know. Don’t fuck it up. We’re counting on you to report back with no incident. Can you do it?”

“I can. I will.” I stumbled over my words. I was still trying to keep up with all the things I learned in this brief meeting.

“You start tonight. Club Bailar Caliente becomes busy after ten. Teresa typically arrives by midnight. Go.”

I looked down at my watch. It’s 9:15PM. As I stood to leave, Natasha stood.

“And Harlen?”

“Yeah?”

“Zand is counting on you.” This was my chance to prove myself useful, to show that I’m more than just Zand’s reckless younger brother.

“I won’t let him down.” I said, and I actually meant it.

Natasha’s only response was a skeptical arch of her blonde eyebrow before she returned to her screens, dismissing me with the wave of her hand.

As I left her office, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was walking into something much bigger than a simple surveillance job. Teresa never does anything without purpose, and if she’s frequenting a Mexican club in Chicago’s West Side, there’s got to be a reason.

Three hours into my stakeout and I was feeling like this wasn’t going to produce any intel more than Natasha had already acquired. I was slumped so low I was practically horizontal. My eyes were fixed across the street on the entrance of Club Bailar Caliente. The neon sign bled red light onto the sidewalk, turning the faces of patrons into crimson masks as they stumbled in and out of the establishment. Bass-heavy Latin music pulsed through the walls. I checked my watch: 11:12 PM. If Natasha’s intel was correct, Teresa should arrive soon. Or was she already inside?

I twisted open a bottle of blood, AB positive, sipping it to pass the time. The car Natasha provided smelled like leather and a tropical fruit air freshener. The car was suspiciously clean for a surveillance vehicle. I wondered how many stakeouts had happened in this same sedan. Maybe none. I wasn’t sure Zand had any troubles before Teresa, Marisol and Marisol’s brother blew into town. His life in Chicago appeared to be pretty sweet.

The club itself didn’t look special. It was just another hole-in-the-wall nightspot with peeling paint around the windows and a bouncer who checked IDs with practiced boredom. What drew Teresa to this place? It wasn’t up to vampire standards. We all didn’t live like the rich, but we felt we fit in better in middle-class settings. It was easier for us to blend in, and being undetected was paramount for our kind.

A Hispanic couple emerged from the club. The woman was laughing too loudly and clutching her companion’s arm for balance. The man was stone-faced. He scanned the street with quick, darting eyes. A drug dealer, probably. They disappeared around the corner, and I returned my attention to the entrance.

The night drug on. I watched people arrive in groups. The young ladies wore less clothing than strippers. They didn’t appear to be twenty-one, but they could still gain entry. The neighborhood wasn’t the worst in Chicago, but it’s not somewhere tourists would venture after dark. Perfect hunting ground for vamps. Plenty of people no one would immediately miss.

I stretched in my seat, fighting the urge to doze. Maybe Teresa wasn’t coming tonight. Maybe Natasha’s intel was dated. Or maybe Teresa sensed she was being watched and changed her routine. She’s paranoid enough for that.

Just as I’m considering calling it a night, the crowd outside the entrance parted.

“Teresa.” I muttered softly to myself.

Even from across the street, I’d know that silhouette anywhere. She moved like a predator, like a new vampire that wasn’t used to her body. Some people would call her movements masculine, but they were normal for a newer vampire. A severe knot at the nape contained Teresa’s blonde hair. She was wearing a simple short black dress that somehow looked more elegant than the flashy clubwear around her.

She didn’t bother to look around as she exited. There were no furtive glances, no checking to see if she was being watched or followed. Either she was confident that no one was watching, or she didn’t care. Both possibilities were unsettling. Did she really think she had a chance here in Chicago? I had been back in my brother’s life for just a short time, but it was clear to me that he loved Chanel, and he would, and had killed anyone that threatened his human.

I waited until Teresa was half a block away, moving north, before I slid out of the car. Following on foot was risky. Some vampires had heightened senses. Teresa was a young vampire. I didn’t think she had any special skills or heightened senses. I didn’t know much about her outside of the sex I wished I could take back.

The Chicago streets were too desolate for a moving car at these early morning hours. I had to go out on foot. I couldn’t risk losing her if she spotted me in a vehicle.

The night air hit me with a barrage of aromas. There was the thick humidity, the scent of the city, exhaust fumes, yesterday’s rain and the stench of wet garbage. I kept my distance, staying in the shadows where possible, using gangways as cover when needed. I pulled up the hood of my jacket, keeping my head down.

Teresa walked briskly, never looking back, but taking a route that seemed deliberately complex. She strolled down the side streets, through an alley and across a small park. Is she trying to lose a tail? Or does she just enjoy the complexity of this walk?

After fifteen minutes, the scenery changed. The buildings look better maintained. The streets were cleaner. We were approaching a college campus. It was the university district. Student housing and affordable apartments have replaced the liquor stores, fried chicken shacks and check-cashing joints of the previous neighborhood.

Teresa slowed her pace as we entered a well-lit area with manicured trees lining the sidewalk. Ahead stood a large brick building with a carved stone arch above the entrance. The tall building was a university dormitory.

This wasn’t where I expected her movements to lead me.

Teresa approached the entrance with confidence, pulling something from the pocket of her dress—a key card? She swiped it at the door. It opened, and she slipped inside.

I hung back, processing. Why would Teresa have access to a university dorm? She’s not a student, and she certainly wasn’t faculty. Unless she was using an alias? Or maybe she stole the card from someone.

I approach the building slowly, trying to look casual, like I belong. The lobby was visible through large windows—brightly lit, with a security desk that appeared unmanned. A group of three young women approached the entrance, laughing and talking animatedly, key cards already in hand. This was my chance.

I quickened my pace, timing my arrival to coincide with theirs. One swiped her card, and as they pushed through the door, I followed close behind, flashing a friendly smile that suggested I’m someone’s guest. They barely glanced at me, too absorbed in their conversation about an upcoming exam.

The lobby was clean and complete with the smell of floor cleaner. Flyers for campus events, tutoring services, and roommate wanted ads were plastered a bulletin board. At the unmanned security desk, a sign reads “Be back soon.”

Lucky timing. I didn’t believe the sign. It was probably just there to make strangers believe there was some security. This early in the morning I doubted there was anyone working the desk.

I scanned the area quickly. Two hallways branched off the lobby, and a staircase rose to my left. An elevator stood opposite, its display showing it was currently on the third floor. I was sure it was Teresa inside the elevator.

I waited until the three students have moved down one hallway. I didn’t want to follow them, so I disappeared into the stairwell. I kept my footsteps as light as possible on the tiled steps. I held the metal handrails as I ascended upward. I moved cautiously, listening for sounds above me.

When I reached the third-floor landing, I paused and peered through the small rectangular window. After a few moments, I opened the door and moved through it. The hallway beyond was carpeted, lined with identical doors bearing room numbers and small whiteboards with messaged scrawled in colorful markers.

I couldn’t see Teresa. I believed she was somewhere inside one of the dorm rooms. But which one? I mulled about trying not to look like a creeper. My senses heightened as I examined the hallway for any other movement, any witnesses. It was quiet. Most students had to be out for the night or asleep behind their locked doors. I waited, giving Teresa time to do whatever she came here to do. I didn’t like the possibilities that sprung to mind.

Three minutes passed. Then five. I checked my watch, and I wondered how long I should wait before investigating. I wasn’t supposed to do anything but tail her. I parked myself around a corner and hoped she was in one of the rooms close to the elevator.

Just as I was debating my next move, I heard a door open. It had to be Teresa, but I couldn’t look around the corner. She would surely see me. I couldn’t have that happen here.

I pressed myself into the wall around the corner. I became still as stone, barely breathing. Instead of the elevator, I heard the door to the stairwell open. I peeked my head out just in time to see her disappear through the closing doorway.

I waited until I was certain she was gone. I walked down the hall near the elevator and noticed room 317 was slightly ajar. No light spilled from the crack in the doorway. No sound came from within.

My instincts were heightened. I placed my fingertips against the wood, feeling the grain as I push the door open wider. The smell hit my nostrils immediately, rich, metallic, unmistakable.

Blood.

Fresh blood.