Asylum (Causal Enchantment #2)(27)
Mage hesitated. “Yes, they attacked. It may have been kept under wraps, had it not been for one imprudent vampire who executed an entire faction of them in front of a television camera.”
“That would do it,” I answered dryly, then muttered, “I hope you punished the idiot severely.”
As Mage reached out to turn the doorknob, effectively breaking the sound barrier, a sad smile touched her lips. “I’ve punished myself every day since.”
“We need reserves!” Viggo exclaimed in exasperation the second I stepped into the atrium, still dazed by the devastating knowledge Mage had imparted to me—entrusted only to me. Until I could evaluate the risks of the others knowing, I would keep it to myself.
Viggo and Mortimer sat at their bistro table, guarding Veronique, as usual, oblivious to the real danger threatening us. The Ratheus vampires—if I could even still call them that—were milling about, now that they’d drained their supply of human blood. Their eyes darted furtively around the atrium and the balconies, as if searching for a human hiding amongst the charred leaves. My eyes rolled over Caden and the others, off in one corner, and rolled on as I intentionally avoided eye contact. Mage had been smart to stop me from reading Caden, that first day. Viggo would have spotted the truth, had it flashed in my eyes for even the briefest of seconds.
First things first, though. I bolted for the exterior doors, sidestepping the few vampires still trying to pull blood from the gardener’s drained corpse, and stopped in front of the security keypad on the wall. Thank God Leo gave me the pass codes to do this. I quickly reprogrammed the passwords, a small giggle escaping me with the knowledge of how this would infuriate them. There. Both the exterior garage and the exterior walk-through door were locked down. No one would enter. No more innocent people would die.
I walked back, more light-hearted than when I had left them, smiling my satisfaction as I watched understanding dawn in Viggo and Mortimer’s eyes, before fury narrowed them. Mage stood nearby. Our eyes touched, and my lips tucked up at the corners in appreciation of her suggestion. She acknowledged with a barely perceptible nod.
“Why would you do that?” Viggo yelled. “I have blood trucks ordered and on their way! Are you going to let them in?”
“We can’t have Red Cross trucks pulling in here, with the Sentinel hovering,” I threw back, adding after a snort, “And I won’t have innocent truck drivers massacred for your entertainment. No. I’ll take care of it.”
“Hey, Reg,” I said when Reggie’s deep voice answered, using my friendliest pitch. Reggie was a supervisor at one of the city’s Red Cross blood banks. Two weeks ago, he had loaded a utility truck with blood and smuggled it inside for me—a gold mine when shoring up supplies in anticipation of four vampires. Of course, I had compelled him to do all of this, and had him at the ready to respond to future needs, leaving me with an open source of blood when I needed it. Like now.
A long pause, then, “Sofie.”
Something isn’t right. I had expected a much warmer reception. “I need more blood, Reg.”
Another long pause. “Um . . . Okay.” His voice quavered with fear. “Be at the receiving dock in thirty minutes.” The phone went dead.
He shouldn’t be afraid of me. I must have messed up the compulsion, forgotten to script it properly. I was normally so good at it! I hung up the phone, sighing my annoyance. Gone were the days where entire trucks could go missing without anyone being the wiser. Now, in the age of computers, every drop was accounted for. I could alter numbers, but then I’d have to follow the trail of information to cover a dozen different threads of evidence to hide my tracks. I didn’t have time for that. I needed human blood.
I headed straight for the garage, a spacious concrete room two floors below the ground level. Nearly three dozen pristinely maintained cars and trucks lined the walls within, some of which had never seen the open road. They were merely part of a collection, another one of Viggo’s material weaknesses.
My eyes drifted over the silver-blue Mercedes, with its dented and bloody front bumper—Viggo had used it to run down Evangeline’s mother. He kept it as a memento. Please choose Mortimer, Veronique, I prayed. Viggo would be as good as dead for what he did to Evangeline.
I climbed into the shiny black Navigator, the largest vehicle available for carting back a supply. As expected, the keys were in the ignition; Viggo didn’t fear breakins. The tires squealed as I peeled out, taking the winding ramp up to the atrium at high speed. As I crossed the threshold and pulled into the atrium, curious vampires quickly put two and two together: Truck going out means doors to outside world opening. Excitement flared in their vibrant irises. They began flocking toward the car entrance. “Great,” I groaned as I slowed the truck to a halt. “This won’t attract attention.” I pressed my hands against my temples.
Mage suddenly appeared in the passenger seat, the act of opening and closing the truck door happening too fast for me to even notice. “What can I do to help?”
The concerned vampire citizen again, are we? I leveled a stare at her. “Look, let’s get one thing straight: I don’t trust you, and you sure as hell would be smart not to trust me.” An amused look crossed her face as she nodded. I sighed heavily. “I can’t have a crowd of hungry vampires in the tunnel when I drive out the exterior door. People will see them—see what they are—even if they can’t get past the Merth.”