Chomp
Chapter 16: Blue

The council stared back at me as I stood before them in one of the lecture halls.

Darius had opted to join the meeting, and his dark blue eyes were fixated on me from the edge of the long table where he sat. Despite being in charge, he had left the decision-making to the others, only allowing himself to be a tie breaker if necessary.

Councilmember Winters, seated in the middle of the table, was the first to rise to his feet. His mangy beard looked even more unkempt than usual and twitched slightly when he cleared his throat to speak.

“Agnes Randt,” he began, his voice booming unnecessarily, “Do you know why you’ve been called before us today?”

Gee, I didn’t suppose it was because I won yet another medal for doing my damn job. I wanted nothing more than to say it, but logic prevailed, forcing me to bite my tongue.

“Yes. My team members questioned my effectiveness in the field due to a single, minor instance in which no one got hurt, no plans were foiled, no secrets were revealed, and–”

He snorted. That bastard. It was getting more and more difficult to resist the urge to take a few steps forward and punch him in the throat. “That’s rather for us to decide, don’t you think, Soldier?”

I didn’t dignify his question with a response. Instead, I remained at ease—at least in the soldierly sense, anyway. Inside held more turmoil than I cared to admit.

There was a small, awkward cough from the left side of the table, closer to where Darius was. I glanced over to see Councilmember Glover getting to her feet, fixing her strange blonde bouffant.

“I think what Councilmember Winters is trying to explain,” she began in her awful, whiny tone, “Is that we’d actually like for you to prove that it was, as you put it, a ’single instance.’ That seems fair, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” I replied stiffly. Proving myself to them would hardly be an issue; with my track record, anyone who was anyone should have known I excelled at killing the demons.

“Then it’s settled,” Winters said quickly. He opened up the folder that sat in front of him and pulled out a few pieces of paper. “We have a solo assignment that you are to complete within the week.”

With a wicked grin, he shoved the papers clean off the desk, causing them to flip and flop in mid air until they scattered along the floor. When they landed, my eyes flicked back up to him though I remained stationary.

“You appeared to have dropped something, Councilmember Winters,” I pointed out dryly, holding his ugly gaze. I flashed what I hoped was a sweet, encouraging smile. “Did you need my help to pick them up?”

His face flushed a deep purple. Evidently, he had planned the whole paper thing completely differently in his head. “No thanks,” he grumbled, getting down to his knees to scoop the papers up.

“You really ought to be more careful, Errol,” Glover whispered, no doubt completely unaware of his attempt at making me feel submissive. His response was a grunt, and the rest of the council looked on at him with mild amusement.

When he had gathered them up into a messy pile, he dropped the papers back onto the desk. “You can read this over once we’ve left,” he snarled, pushing his chair in. The other council members looked at him, confusion on their faces.

“Are we done now…?” Iyagi half-whispered into Darius’ ear. My fiancé shrugged lazily, the amused smile still playing on his lips.

Winters must have heard her, because he snapped, “Yes, we’re done! Of course we’re done! Go—go home now.”

“Sounds like a rough start to the day,” Adrian decided once I relayed the story to him.

“No kidding,” I continued, watching him sprinkle icing sugar atop the fresh batch of creampuffs. “The worst part about it all was that the ‘make-up mission’ isn’t a single mission at all. Those papers he dropped? They were all just addresses of places that need to be cleared out. All hives normally given to partners at least.”

He paused ever so slightly as he patted the bottom of the icing sugar tin. “It seems really odd that they’d have so many stored up and not cleared out already.”

I shrugged. “Hadn’t even thought of that, actually. But you know the government.”

“Yes,” he replied weakly, setting the creampuffs down. They were in a pale, aquamarine porcelain dish that had little whales etched into the lip of the bowl. “Sorry—did you want these in a bag? I forgot to ask.”

I laughed. “Y’know… I’m probably just going to eat them all before I hit the first address. Besides, I wouldn’t want that fantastic bowl to go to waste.”

Adrian smiled affectionately at it, his gold eyes twinkling. “Could you believe it was only fifty cents at a garage sale?” he asked. “Izzie begged me for it.”

Though I had never met her, I could tell the kid had spunk and style. After all, it was hard not to be amazing when she could bake so well. I took my first bite of creampuff and was instantly transported to euphoria. The soft, fluffy pastry was still warm and the gooey insides teased my tongue. After I chewed through and swallowed my first bite, I looked around the empty shop.

“Where is she, anyway? School?”

“Mm, something like that.” He removed his glasses and rubbed the spot on the bridge of his nose where they had been sitting. “She sees a tutor; I was a little hesitant when we moved to put her in a school. It’s a bit… dangerous now.”

My heart went out to him.

Being a single father was hard enough, I was sure; being in a really fucked-up city having to worry about the possibility of his daughter being feasted on if she was enrolled in school only added to it all. “Yeah, I feel you. You never know who’s been turned now; she’s a little girl, not some asshole’s snack.”

Adrian nodded and placed his glasses back on. “Dangerous times indeed. You know, I thought moving back to the city would be a smart idea. It might surprise you to know this, but the suburbs are bad, too. Everywhere is.”

I glanced up at him, but before I could comment, I snickered. A large white print of icing sugar was smeared against the lenses of his glasses, though he didn’t seem to have noticed.

He blinked his golden eyes. “What? What’s so funny?”

Pointing to his glasses with one hand, I stuffed another creampuff into my mouth. God, I had a problem. “Nice glasses.”

He took a moment to clue in, and his eyes darted to the side of the glass where the print of icing sugar was. Blushing, he grabbed a Kleenex and removed the frames from his face. “Sorry…” he mumbled. “Good cook, but not great at keeping clean.”

I laughed, chewing through my treat. The laughter quickly stopped when I went to reach for another creampuff, but came up empty handed. “Oh god… Did I just…?” I looked down. Sure enough, the only thing that remained in the bowl was a few powder spots on the side of the clay and the remnants of my dignity.

Adrian put his thick-rimmed glasses back on and looked down at the bowl as well. “I think you just did,” he agreed, brows raised. He looked as though he was trying not to laugh. “But... I won’t tell anyone?”

“I should hope not,” I quipped playfully, getting to my feet after pushing the bar stool in. “I can’t have vampires knowing that a soldier’s true weakness is a dozen delicious creampuffs, now can I?”

He smiled, soft and sweet. “But Agnes… That was a dozen and a half…”

Well damn. I cleared my throat. “Well, I’ll just have to walk over to the next address to kick some leech asses. It will do me some good. Thanks, though!”

Grabbing my satchel and swinging it over my shoulder, I turned to head toward the door.

“Wait. I… I have a favour to ask.”

I turned on my heel to look at him, only to find he was on the opposite side of the counter. He must have lifted the separator up when I wasn’t looking. “I don’t know what I could do for you, but sure. I’ll try my best.”

“You know I have a daughter, and the city’s a very dangerous place for one so young,” he began, walking toward me. Something moved behind his eyes; judging by his tone, I would have said it was fear. “I just… These addresses, are they anywhere near here? Near my house? I don’t want to assume or cause panic, I just… I just want to know my daughter is safe.”

Adrian stood there solemnly, his eyes trained on me as he waited for an answer. I knew protocol like the back of my hand; civilians were fed only the information deemed fit by Darius to share. It meant the masses were kept in check, not causing any mass hysteria. Yet here I was, empathizing with this single father.

Sighing, I took my satchel off my back and opened the front zipper. “I can’t say what’s at each address, but at least if you know the places, you can avoid them. Though… if I show you them, you have to promise to keep them quiet.”

He nodded furiously and breathlessly. “Thank you—thank you so much!” He rushed over to the main serving area and grabbed a pen and an old receipt. Flipping it to the back, he placed it on the tiny table closest to us. “This means so much to me. You have no idea—I’ll—did you want more creampuffs? I can make another batch if—”

I shook my head, pulling out the address list. “Don’t worry about it. Okay, the first one is…”

It was dark by the time I reached the last address, which suited me just fine. Vampires always seemed more comfortable in the dark, which meant they were far more relaxed and easy to take advantage of.

The street was dead, void of even the pattering of the herds of wild dogs. The cold November breeze licked my ears and cheeks, but it also exhilarated me. As I neared the location, I could feel my blood coursing through my veins at a faster pace in anticipation. Every time seemed like the first, and I couldn’t wait to sink my knives into some blood-thieves.

I looked on in both disbelief and disgust as the target location came into sight. It seemed as though every single one of these places had to be grand, like it was some unwritten rule that vampires had to steal from the rich or something. Granted, this was less of a mansion and more of a set of castle-like ruins.

It would have seemed out of place in the main city core, but the suburbs of what used to be Islip had had pretty large lots and houses in its heyday. It had been the type of neighbourhood PTA moms bragged about at Tupperware parties when they got bored of gossiping about who had liposuction that week.

I smirked as I stepped past the broken iron gate. The stonework had decided to crumble prematurely, no doubt built only to look good, not be practical. A gaping hole, large enough for a person to walk through, presented itself at the far south end of the building. It looked as though it had been damaged in the protests years ago, but I knew better than that. A lot of hives liked to give off the impression that the house was abandoned to blend in with all the other homes that sat empty, gathering dust; empty homes weren’t worth entering, after all.

But we were smarter than that.

I stepped through the giant hole, prepared for a fight.

Unsurprisingly enough, the inside of the castle-like house had been robbed blind. There were clear signs of statue bases without the statues they supported, rectangular discolouration on the walls from where paintings had once been hung, and not a sparkling thing in sight. Even the top of the handrail looked as though it had been nicked. The pathetic sight was astounding, and I stared through my night goggles with a huge smile on my face.

“—she doing here?”

The whisper was faint, but it was enough to make me whip around. Six children stood at the doorway underneath one of the two curved staircases. They all stared at me, unable to move. I pulled my tanto point out from my hip holster.

“Help!” one of them screamed. His voice was high and frantic as he looked around for a bigger sucker. Four other children seemed to squirm with him, but one little girl took a step forward. I couldn’t place it, but I felt like I knew her from somewhere.

Her slanted eyes were large and orb-like, and her pitch black hair was pulled into a small ponytail that barely grazed her shoulder.

“P-Please go away,” she whispered softly, taking another step forward. She looked as though she was five years old.

“Go get her, Isobel!” one of the other girls hissed. I cocked an eyebrow as Isobel looked over her tiny frail shoulders at the other girl. Blonde, and far older than the tiny Asian who stood between us. “It’s your job!”

I almost felt sorry for the weedy little thing. She snapped her head back up to me and raised her chin, holding my gaze. “We’re not doing anything wrong,” she said, a little more confidently this time. “Please go.”

“And why the hell would I do that?” I asked, spinning the knife lazily in my hand. “Because you asked nicely?”

Isobel looked as though I had slapped her in the face or called her ugly in front of her crush on the playground. “W-Well I—”

“She’s a Cainist—you’re in trouble now, you cow!” the older blonde half-screamed. A few of the other kids laughed nervously; one of them even had the gall to moo.

I frowned, turning on the preteen who thought she was cool. “Excuse me?” I asked, training the blade of my tanto on her. The glint caught the girl’s eye, and she seemed far less confident as I took another step toward her.

“You’re not a cow,” Isobel whispered hurriedly, getting between us again, her face actually sincere. “Clarey didn’t mean it—tell her, Clarey!”

The blonde hesitated, locking eyes with me. From behind Isobel, she felt protected, elevated, and safe; she let out another moo, drawing it out and sounding like even more of an idiot. I wasn’t entirely sure why the kids felt that this tiny little Asian girl was a good enough shield; at least she seemed under no false pretenses.

“Moo a little louder, twerps,” I hissed. “What a way to die.”

“N-No, please don’t—” Isobel began, taking a step back. She stuck both arms out as if to block the path.

“What did I tell you children about playing up on the main floor?” came a voice.

I whipped around, feeling goosebumps rise on my arms. How had I missed them coming in? The man—or at least, I assumed it was a man—stood mere feet behind me, his posture almost lazy. His head was tilted curiously, and it looked as though he was wearing an old, black, plague-doctor mask.

But as I looked a little more closely, I realized the material of the mask seemed to blend into his skin, that the mask was his face. It was difficult to tell what he was, though I suspected he was a vampire of some sort.

“Jesus, just when I thought vampires couldn’t get more disgusting…” I snapped, surveying him up and down. No one seemed to notice though, because both the man and the children ignored me completely.

“It gets boring downstairs,” one little boy murmured. “And Clarey said we could—”

“I don’t recall leaving Clarey in charge,” the man said dryly. He paused, then turned back to me. “You’re still here?”

I scoffed. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, very. You’re welcome to leave,” he said shortly. “This is, after all, private property.”

“Stolen private property,” I corrected heatedly. “Some rich family owned this before you disgusting leeches stole it to make some sort of weird nest. And if that wasn’t bad enough, you’re into kids? Fucking sicko.”

“…into kids?” the man mused, faking confusion quite well.

“You’re all affronts to nature as it is,” I hissed, getting ready to spring. My knees bent ever so slightly, and I could feel the power in my muscles. “You had to go ahead and take a step further and change all these kids. So no, I’m not going to take your oh-so-generous offer to leave; I’m here to put these kids out of their misery!”

Don’t ask me why I felt the need to explain what I was doing; I think a lot of the time people do it in movies because it’s what people do in situations when they feel something isn’t nice, but have to power through anyway. It’s sort of justification for actions they’re not a hundred percent sure they approve of.

But as I rushed forward, knife pointed at Isobel, I knew it was the right thing to do.

My blade was a mere two inches from Isobel’s terrified face when I felt the powerful blow to my stomach. It knocked me backward, sending me flying into a pillar. Stars popped before my eyes, and I felt the clasp from my night goggles dig into the back of my neck.

“I really suggest you leave,” the plague-masked man said calmly, blocking the view of the children from me. “And for the record, I haven’t blooded anyone—not that the Organization probably cares.”

How had he even moved that fast? I knew they were quick, but that was ridiculous. I hopped to my feet, and pulled out a second knife, carefully looking the vampire up and down.

His frame was tall and fairly thin, and had he not punched me as he did, I would have guessed his body was void of muscle. The mask he wore—or glued to his face, whichever—didn’t show any sign of pupils or a working mouth, but I could tell he was still able to see me.

Snarling, I dug my hand into another sheath and pulled out a dipped blade. “No reason to lie, dirtbag. You’re already written off in my books—blooding kids or not. You shouldn’t exist.”

He paused for a moment, and I imagined what his real face might have looked like; grotesque, malformed, and unsightly, twisted into an offended snarl.

“Isobel,” he began lightly, his voice almost pleasant. “Please take the other children into the yard. I don’t think they need to see this.”

The little girl nodded slightly, her ponytail swaying. She turned to the others, all pale-faced and wide-eyed, and gestured for them to follow. I watched as their little feet stumbled over the cracked flooring, waiting for an opportunity.

It was Clarey that fell to the floor, scraping her palms and knees as she collided with the marble, giving me my window. With that, I lunged forward with the dipped blade.

The man must have pre-emptively started before I did; there was no way he could have gotten between us otherwise, but he did. Mid-jump, he ducked underneath me, crouching, and swung his leg around. It hit me in the pelvis and sent me right into the ground. The air flew from my lungs as my back collided with the marble. I let out a groan as my back seized, gripping the hilts of the knives in frustration.

“Stay down,” he ordered. His voice was soft, but somehow still very commanding. “Stay down, and I won’t continue.”

The line caught me off-guard. What kind of vampire bargained like that?

“What?” I spat, slowly turning onto my side. “So I can live because you’re going to blood me? No thanks. I have dignity, thank you very much!”

My one knee was still on the ground when he pounced forward. I scrunched my face up to brace for impact, but it never came. When I opened them again, the man was right where he had been before, only he was holding weapons, my weapons.

All of them.

He glanced over them silently with what I could only take for anger; the kanto knife, the dipped blade, a hidden pocket knife, and the three needles I carried around with me at all times.

Please graze the dipped blade, please graze the dipped blade.

My mind chanted the phrase over and over. If even a drop of the mixture got into his bloodstream, this fight would be over. To my dismay, he was far too careful with it all. Instead, he dropped the two blades to the ground and jammed his boot into them. As if they were churros, the steel snapped in half.

Maybe this was what Darius’ intel had meant by unknowns. Vampires that were far beyond the norm. But, I reminded myself, pulling my body up from the ground successfully this time, Toulouse had been a deviation. And while I no longer had him, I knew it was possible to kill them.

I watched as the man brought the needles closer to his nose. If I could move quickly enough…

“What’s with these?” he asked suddenly, his voice curious. “You don’t have a drug problem, do you? Or... is this insulin for someone?”

Yet again, his line caught me off-guard. This man was strange, even by vampiric standards. The sooner I killed him, the sooner I could forget about it. “Why don’t you prick yourself with all three and find out?” I suggested.

If only he could be so stupid. Sure, the adrenalin would have been great for him and the cyanide ’it’s all over, time to dip’ needle would have probably done nothing. It was the third one I would have gladly have him steal.

Instead, much to my woe, he pulled them away. “Well? Is this insulin that someone needs or not? Tell me.”

The demand made me feel… uncomfortable. “What do you care?” I asked. “Don’t like diabetic meat?”

He tilted his head slightly before gently placing the needles on the ground. As if he didn’t want them to break—as if he actually cared that it might have been insulin to save someone’s life. My blood ran cold. Maybe he wasn’t a vampire?

“What is your job here?”

“What do you think it is?” I hissed. He was all over the place, and it was getting harder and harder to tell whether or not he was smart.

“If it’s to prove that you’ve killed a vampire, I’ll give you my head. Otherwise, I’m afraid you’re out of luck.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “You’d sacrifice your own life so lamely to protect kids that were forced to be vampires? Did it ever cross your mind that I’d probably go back and slaughter the lot of them to put them out of their misery once you’re dead anyway?”

“Ah. I never said I would be dead; I said I’d give you my head.” The mask’s expression remained the same of course, but I could tell he was smirking. Internally, at least.

“What kind of bullshit—” I began hotly.

“Will you take the deal or not? I’d rather not have to kill you, to be honest.”

Was this man serious? He must have been. And it angered me even more; I clenched my fists, feeling the blood run hot throughout my body once more.

“You know what? Fuck you.”

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