Black Market Blood (The Lazarus Hunter Series Book 2) Page 23

  Jet pulled her neckline up as high as it would go, but it was futile. Better to go out and face the music. The corridor down to the warehouse was filled with people waiting in line. A mass collection was taking place. Torn between waiting and heading down to the front, to the room where she worked, she decided to take a chance. She tapped the shoulder of the man at the back and nodded to the line snaking out ahead of them. ‘What’s going on?’

  He turned and took in her appearance. ‘Damn, what happened to you?’

  ‘I got delayed,’ she hedged, hoping it would be sufficient to explain her appearance and general confusion about why they were all here.

  ‘Weren’t you in the hall?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘It was amazing. This is it. We’re going to take our power back. We knew it was coming but I didn’t expect it to be so soon.’

  ‘Take our power back?’

  ‘Yeah. We’ve been sitting around doing nothing for long enough. You’ve seen the way all the other families look down on us. I’m ready for this. Got some old scores of my own to settle.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I’ve only just come to America. A few months ago. I’m not sure I understand.’

  ‘We’ve all been told to come here and get extra rations of blood. Double the weekly allowance we were instructed to use. They want us strong and ready for anything. It will help with the healing too, if we need it. Not that they’re likely to fight back, am I right?’

  ‘Fight?’

  ‘Yes. We’re going to war.’

  The words echoed through her. Territorial disputes were nothing new. Their history was scattered with stories. A heavy emphasis on the victories, rather than the humiliating defeats that had been all too common in the past thousand years. Her own personal bloodline came into the family through defeat in a similar thing, back when the Sekhmets were at the height of their power. During the Middle Kingdom, they’d absorbed many families into their own. Even nearly four thousand years later, her own standing remained low as a kind of bastard adoptee.

  But this wasn’t Ancient Egypt and the Sekhmets weren’t exactly on a roll. The Giordanos had been in charge here for a long time. She doubted the sickness would wipe out their resources, even if they lost people willing or able to fight. Apparently those in charge felt differently.

  It didn’t solve the question of whether to wait in line with the others or head down to work. They might be expecting her to help.

  Double the weekly allowance in one go. She did the mental calculations and realised that would take them below half of the stockpiled supply. Closer to a third. The lower the number, the more obvious the missing selection would be. At the end of the corridor could be several men ready to see her hang for dereliction of duty. Or theft. Neither would end well for her in this climate.

  Jet reached up to her swollen cheek. Even her physical appearance was suspicious right now. But perhaps if she was down there, if it wasn’t already too late, she would be able to muddy the waters and deflect any questions. She had no choice but to take the chance.

  Head held high she marched past people waiting patiently. Some turned to look at her but she refused to make eye contact with them. If they were annoyed with her jumping the line, then no one spoke out.

  They were all about to report for duty. So was she.

  But when everyone is thinking about war, she knew it was an unhappy place to be a traitor.

  53

  Monica stepped out of the car. Even in the middle of the city, she found herself surrounded by the silence that arrives with the witching hour. It called out to her, some primal instinct that told her it was almost time to get indoors. She wouldn’t heed it, but she couldn’t deny its presence. A siren song with the promise of safety.

  The club door remained closed in front of her. Everyone in the family waited behind it to see for themselves that she was alive. They would doubt it by now. She had instructed Dennis to get them gathered by midnight. The success of the vaccine and the conversation with Harlan had her fired up and ready to go. Then fog had forced her plane to be put on standby. To those indoors, to the council, it would be another excuse. She was three hours late. Rank and file would believe she was dead and the council were playing for time. What they wouldn’t realise was the Council of Elders were thinking exactly the same thing.

  She reached into the back of the car and pulled a cold box from the seat. It contained enough vaccinations for one hundred people. Unless the number of sick had surged during the day, it would be enough to get them through.

  Monica checked her phone one last time. She had sent word to Elizabeth to let her know the vaccine worked. She’d detoured to her apartment to change and lock the vial of blood in her safe. With uncanny timing Elizabeth had sent a terse reply at the precise moment she closed the door. Second thoughts and doubts had crowded in then, before she dismissed them. Instead, she had checked her new look out in the mirror. Clothes maketh the woman and she was going to look powerful in the face of a Sekhmet challenge to her authority.

  The past week had been filled with self-doubt. Not anymore. She had the key to her family’s survival in her hands, and she wasn’t afraid to use it. A bouncer in the shadow of the doorway watched her. The look in his eyes told her the rumour that she was dead had taken hold. Now she stood in front of him looking better than ever. And more inclined to kick ass. At least, that was the look she was going for. She tugged the edge of her jacket self-consciously.

  He moved aside with a small bow and opened the door. Once again, no music played. There was no pretence of a social occasion. The low murmur was of the desperate and restless. She pushed the door closed behind her with a loud thud. A hush fell across the room as eyes turned to see who it was, followed by a ripple of disbelief.

  The council would be waiting in the back room and Monica knew she should go there first. Instead, she would do what a leader should do. For this task, she needed the masses on her side, not a select little group who believed they wielded the power. Tonight, they could come to the people, not the other way round.

  She glanced at the bar and longed for a stiff drink before she started. It would have to wait. The stage in the corner of the room was empty. There would be no band playing tonight. Every pair of eyes in the room watched as she walked to it and climbed the small steps.

  Monica put the box down at her feet. She didn’t need a microphone. The room was silent.

  ‘Apologies for my lateness. Even I am not immune to the effects of bad weather. I know you have waited here for hours, so thank you for staying.’ She turned to the man at the entrance of the inner sanctum. ‘Can you please tell everyone in the council chambers I require their presence in the main room? I only have time to say this once.’

  The room remained silent while he did so and she appreciated the additional time to think. She’d rehearsed the speech over and over in her head as she had waited for plane clearance. In the end she had decided to play it by ear when she could judge the atmosphere of the crowd.

  One by one the members of the council filtered out and onto the main room. Her heart leapt when she saw Dennis there. His face was calm. Impassive even. His steady presence was what she needed to get through this.

  The council guard gave a subtle nod to let her know they were all there and she could begin. She took a deep breath and looked down at the cool box at her feet. If she wanted to carry them forward to victory, she needed them to believe in her. It was time to give the speech of her life.

  ‘My friends, thank you for being here. The past two weeks have been some of the hardest our family has ever endured. We have all suffered loss. We have been attacked and the very foundations of our family have been shaken. I know that. I have felt it too. Some of you may believe I abandoned you in the time of need. That when you were stood to defend our home and our place in society, I was nowhere to be seen.

  Firstly, I want you all to know that I am no coward. I wished for nothing more than to lead you into battle. But the rumours
were true. I was too sick to fight for you.’

  She paused, glad that despite the declaration, her voice remained strong. She saw hope begin to filter onto the faces in front of her.

  ‘I too suffered from the illness that is afflicting so many of our brothers and sisters. I was close to death while you fought for our family. But do not think that because I wasn’t there, your actions went unnoticed. It is thanks to you all that I have a home to come back to today. It is because of my illness that kept me away that I can bring with me your reward. In this box there are enough vaccines here for one hundred people.’

  She stopped then as hushed whispers broke through the silence. People grabbed each other in excitement. Across the room, Dennis smiled and folded his arms across his chest. He leant back against the wall and in his relieved pose she saw the echo of the others who were now on her side. He had always believed in her, but with this act, the rest of her people did too.

  She cleared her throat and the voices died down. ‘We will start with those closest to death first, to give them the best chance of survival. More vaccines will be shipped in over the next few days. Once our entire family has been immunised, then we will offer help to our allies. This will be on our terms and in our own interests.’

  She looked out over the room. It wasn’t the most rousing speech of her life, but she had won their forgiveness. Their backing. Even the council members were smiling. The hardest to please and the most prone to rebellion. She realised some elders must be amongst those dying. Rank in the family wouldn’t matter, she decided. She would stand firm on her promise that the sickest were treated first, irrespective of their personal standing.

  ‘I take it the doctor is still here?’ she asked of no one in particular. A young man on the front row nodded.

  ‘She’s in the other room with the sick.’

  ‘Are they all in there?’

  ‘The worst of them.’

  ‘Good.’ She raised her voice again to address the others. ‘I’m going to speak with the doctor so those who need the vaccine can receive it straight away. If anyone here is sick, can they please follow me into the other room? An attack may come at any moment. The sooner we can return to full strength, the greater the chance of a quick victory.’

  She stepped off the stage then to leave the certainty of success hanging in the air. As she made her way through the crowd, it parted before her. It was easy to remember when she was part of that crowd, not the one all eyes turned to. She didn’t think she would ever get used to the feeling.

  Dennis fell in step behind her and together they prepared for what awaited them in the makeshift sick bay. As the two of them walked the corridor, he took the cool box from her hand. ‘I’m glad you’re okay,’ he said.

  ‘I know you are.’

  ‘With everything going on, I’m not sure I ever told you.’

  ‘You don’t have to tell me.’

  ‘This past week has made me realise that I take certain things for granted. We both do. And one of those things is not having to say stuff out loud. I like that, but I want you to know I appreciate everything you do for me.’ They paused outside the door before going in. ‘Even now.’

  ‘I know Dennis, you don’t have to worry. Things won’t change between us.’

  ‘I know, but –’

  ‘No buts. When the time comes, and it probably will come for me before it comes for you, you’ll know what to do. I’ve always known what a great and loyal friend you are. You were before I became leader and you stayed just as true afterwards. I know you sometimes doubt it, but you’re my rock and my right hand man. I would have given up long before now without you. No one can replace you.’

  ‘Not even Elizabeth?’ he said it with a smile to take the edge off, but at the heart of the question there was a kernel of truth.

  ‘No, not even Elizabeth. It’s different. You and I are unique. No one is ever going to change that. Understood?’

  ‘Understood.’

  ‘Good, then let’s get this show on the road. We’re going to help out here. I can’t expect the doc to do it all on her own.’

  ‘People have helped her where they can. She’s not dealt with them all alone.’

  ‘Good,’ Monica pushed the door open and walked in. The doctor saw Monica and sprang up from a bedside, relief palpable.

  ‘You’re here. And…alive.’

  ‘Alive and fully healed. Can we have a word?’

  ‘Of course. I heard that you were outside, but I couldn’t leave them.’ She gestured helplessly around the room. The dark circles under her eyes gave away how little she’d slept in the previous week.

  ‘I would rather you help these people anyway. I do not see your absence as disrespect or disloyalty. Now, can we have a moment?’

  Monica took them both to the makeshift workstation in the corner of the room. Dennis laid out the contents of the box and Monica ran through the situation for the benefit of the doctor. ‘We’ve found it works best if the patient feeds after you administer the vaccine. At least, we think it does. We’re playing fast and loose with medicine here. Do we have sufficient blood supplies?’

  ‘We’re running low. Restocking has been difficult.’

  ‘Well, we’ll need to get some more. Pull whatever strings you need. We’ll pay whatever the price is as long as we can get our hands on it.’

  ‘I’ll make some calls. I might know someone who could help us out.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Monica saw Dennis stiffen and sent a questioning look. He shook his head. Not here. ‘We’ll start on the most serious and keep going until supplies run out.’

  ‘I’ve been keeping charts for everyone. They’re crude but they’ll have to do. It’s been a bit of a struggle being the only one to write them up.’

  ‘That’s great. It will give me an idea of who to start with.’

  ‘You’re going to…’ the doctor trailed off. ‘I’m sorry, I assumed you were needed out there.’

  ‘I am. But this is more important. It’s no good being a leader if you don’t have anyone to lead. These people put their lives in my hands. The least I can do is this.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘No, thank you. For everything you’ve done here. You’ve made it easier for people in the final hours and that is worth more than anything I do.’

  ‘I hope this means I’ve seen the last death because of this disease. It’s been brutal.’

  ‘By the end of the week, it will all be over.’ Monica paused and rolled up her sleeves. ‘Now where do we start?’

  54

  Lance had never felt so ready for anything in his life. Every childhood dream had built up to this moment where he would at last be on the winning side. As they collected in the main warehouse, there was an excited buzz in the air. He wasn’t alone in his excitement. Old and young alike, they had lived with unsatisfactory circumstances for so long. Even those deemed too old to fight under normal circumstances stood ready to go. They would be allowed to take out their decades of disappointment and frustration on the weak and the sick. Or the children. Lance didn’t care.

  The only thing missing now was the order to attack. Sundown had long since passed and whilst it was prudent to wait for a few more hours, they would still need time to fight. The cover of darkness would give the Giordanos a chance to flee, if they felt that was the only option that remained to them. He did not do all that work for nothing. There would be a victory, one that would be talked about for the ages and with his name always associated with it.

  The large doors at the back of the warehouse swung open and everyone turned. This was it. The ripple of excitement and repressed violence changed. From his position at the other side of the room, he couldn’t see what was going on over the heads of the gathered men and women in front of him.

  Then, like some reverse Mexican wave, they began to drop to their knees. When he finally saw why, it took Lance a few confused seconds to do the same. In that time, his eyes met those of the man they respectfully c
alled their true leader.

  Lance hit the deck.

  ‘What’s he doing here?’ someone whispered to his right. Lance wished he knew. The excitement and awe was tempered by mild disappointment. There would be no attack tonight. Instead, they would have to make him welcome with all the pomp and ceremony he would expect. Lance was annoyed. He had planned for this moment and now someone was going to steal his thunder.

  Even though he knew no one could hear his thoughts, he felt himself blush with anxiety at his bold dismissal of the most important man in their family. He had led them for many years and word had long gone round of his belief that the American settlement had been nothing but an expensive waste of time. Year after year, someone had claimed that it was all about to change and then year after year, nothing did. This was the closest anyone had ever come to doing something that counted.

  His destruction of the enemy had been the progress that had finally won the man over and made him set foot in the new world.

  Lance swallowed. That was a lot of responsibility on his shoulders.

  The Giordano family would be waiting for their attack. Years of failure made the shame rise up within him when he knew they wouldn’t arrive. In the past, he reminded himself, that would have been due to cowardice and an incorrect failure to prepare. It was time to let that embarrassment go. Instead, another twenty-four hours would only weaken them further. If Monica Carletto was holding on to lead her family to death, then she might not even make it.

  Another disappointment, but it would make victory a walk in the park.

  The feet of the true leader swept past him and he tried not to cower. The man exuded a power that made the leadership over here seem weak and unworthy. They, as a family, were the ones with the longest and richest history. The first to gain wealth and power, rather than hide and steal for blood.

  It was time to rise again.

  ‘Stand.’ It was an order spoken in their native tongue, a curious mix of old and new world Coptic. Lance, like so many others in the room, only spoke or heard it in ceremonial circumstances these days, the lessons of his childhood lost long ago. The only species left to speak it, the tongue was limited in its use during day to day life. In the homeland, Arabic was required to interact with humans and here, English was universal. Which meant that if the entire speech was in Coptic, Lance and the rest of the room would have a headache by the end of the evening.