Chapter 5

The cook at my old chapter house had been a wizard with pastry. And even though I hadn’t lived there, desiring solitude over the hustle, bustle, and overt comradery of our base of operations, I’d made a point to have breakfast with the team, specifically for his breakfast pastries.

What would the cook here prepare? Would I have to eat food from the era the vampires wanted us to live in? Would I need to socialize often with the operatives here? The thought of making small talk made my skin itch.

The corridor was all wood paneling, and the lamps hanging from hooks on the wall were turned down low, leaving everything shrouded in gloom. I hurried down the passage, past several closed doors toward a balcony and sweeping staircase that would take me to the ground floor.

This place was a mansion—three floors, an attic space, and so many side rooms that a person could get lost in it. It was huge for a chapter house, which meant there’d be plenty of operatives to manage.

Back home in the Fringe—the territory that held no allegiance to any supernatural faction—our chapter house had been twenty strong. It needed to be because having no supernatural faction in charge meant less order; it meant that the dregs of society chose to make the Fringe their home. Still, we’d worked hard to keep the streets safe for the humans. But Dracul territory was three times larger than the Fringe, split into New Town and Old, and the chapter house was responsible for both.

I hurried down the wooden staircase, hand trailing down the varnished banister and over the intricate carvings etched into it. It would probably be magnificent to view in the daylight when the thick drapes were pulled back to let in the sunlight. Warm rays would illuminate the pattern on the floor and fill the entranceway with life.

Yes, it would be a beautiful sight in the daylight.

I took a right at the foot of the stairs and headed through an arch into a spacious living area dotted with heavy wood-framed armchairs and sofas. But with the drapes closed and only two lamps burning, it was hard to make out much else.

A door across the room led into a network of corridors. I stuck to the main one, following it around to a set of steps leading to a lower level where the kitchens were housed.

The delicious aroma of brownies teased my nose, and the hum of voices followed.

“You get your hands off those!” a male voice snapped.

“Aw, come on, Haiden. They’re best when they’re fresh out the oven,” another man said. But he sounded younger.

A strip of bright light spilled out from the ajar door, painting the wooden floor with rose hues.

“I let you have one and you’ll eat the lot,” the older man huffed.

“Not like there’s anyone else to appreciate them.”

Another wave of chocolate aroma hit me as I entered the kitchen. “Is that brownies I smell?”

Two men occupied the brightly lit space. One wore an apron and looked to be maybe late sixties. His thick mop of dark hair was threaded with silver, and deep laugh and frown lines sat comfortably on his face, telling me he had a mercurial disposition. The other guy, sitting at a long wooden table, was much younger; in fact, he looked too young to be on active duty, but if he was here, then he had to be at least twenty-one. He had a wide-eyed, open face. An honest face. The kind that made people feel at ease.

They both wore modern clothes, and there was even a bottle of soda on the table. The young guy caught me looking at it.

“It’s okay,” he said. “We’re allowed to have this stuff as long as we keep it in lockdown.”

“You keep telling yerself that.” The older guy pointed his spatula at the tray of brownies and scowled at me. “They’ve just come out of the oven. You’ll have to wait.”

I bit back a smile. “Oh? But they taste the best just out of the oven.”

The young man’s eyes lit up. “That’s what I just said! Didn’t I, Haiden?”

“Ganging up on me now, hmmm?” Haiden, who had to be the cook, grumbled. “Go on, then, have at it. Eat them all. Leave none for the others.”

The young man sat back looking guiltily at the tray of chocolatey goodness. I had no such qualms. I took a large piece and bit into it with gusto. Flavor exploded on my tongue, and I was momentarily speechless.

Haiden watched with an expression I could only describe as anticipatory.

I finished my mouthful and took another bite.

He growled in exasperation. “Well?”

I bit back my smile. “Delicious.”

He snorted. “Of course it is. My special recipe.”

“He made them as a welcome treat for you,” the young man said.

I polished off my slice. “And I’m grateful. I do have a sweet tooth.”

“Go on, then, have another piece.” He said it grudgingly, but the twinkle in his eyes belied his tone. “You too, Edwin.”

Edwin let out a squeak and aimed for the biggest chunk.

Haiden smacked his hand. “Not that one. That’s for our guest.” He looked up at me expectantly.

“Sorry, Edwin. I need to get my blood sugar level up.” I claimed the mega piece.

“What happened to you?” Edwin asked. “There was so much blood.”

I didn’t have the energy to retell the whole sorry story. “A little run-in with some wolves and then a meeting with Ezekiel.”

Edwin’s mouth fell open.

Haiden handed me a mug of what looked like tea. “Drink up. Got to keep you fueled up if yer gonna dance with the devil,” he said. “Edwin, close yer mouth unless yer gonna shove a brownie in it.” Then to me, “Got a nice casserole warming in the oven fer yer.”

“Fresh rolls with it,” Edwin said around a mouthful of brownie.

“You’re lucky the Singer boys came across you on the round,” Haiden said to me. “I put them brownies in as soon as Merry fixed you up. Figured you’d need a sugar boost. You lost a lot of blood. But at least it didn’t go down the devil’s gullet.”

The tea was strong, sweet, and perfect. “I need to thank her when she’s up.”

“You’ll see her at breakfast.” He pulled a huge pot out of the oven and lifted it easily onto the stove. The guy was stronger than he looked. “Padma will be here soon, and we can eat.”

“And the other Order members?”

They both looked at me in surprise.

“There are no others,” Edwin said. “Just the three of us and Merry. Well, five now with you.” He grinned.

That couldn’t be right. “The brief I was given listed ten operatives.”

Haiden snorted and pulled plates off shelves to set them on the table. “Your brief is outdated.”

If that was the case, then…He was the cook, which meant he wasn’t active duty, which meant… “You’ve been running the chapter with only three active operatives?”

This made no sense. Dracul territory was too vast to be covered by such a small chapter. “What happened to the others?”

“They died,” Edwin said. “It was reported.”

But the brief said differently. Something wasn’t right here. I pulled out a chair and parked my ass. “How did they die?”

Haiden snorted again, but Edwin replied. “There was a fire in New Town, and our team was close, so we got called in. We managed to get most of the humans out of the building before…yeah…”

Commendable that they’d saved lives, but… “Why is the Order on call for fires?” Haiden and Edwin exchanged glances. “Hello? What is going on here?”

“You…you really don’t know how it works here, Miss Lighthart?”

It sounded strange hearing myself referred to by my surname. “Call me Orina. And no, I obviously don’t.” My short time with Mary and Jeremy had convinced me of that much. “Explain it to me.”

Edwin looked to Haiden again, and the older man gave him a nod. “The Sangualex are responsible for policing Dracul territory.”

“Sangualex?” What the fuck was that?

“It’s a vampire operation,” Edwin said. “They deal with any threat to the humans, but we get called in for the minor cases. We’re essentially backup for…whatever they need. There are no cold ones here, so we’re kinda redundant. Oh, except you. You have a real job to do with Ezekiel.”

The Order had hunted cold ones for centuries—beastly creatures that used humans as incubators for their young. These beasts could only be taken down by a blessed blade, and they’d been around for centuries. The Order had been formed to cull their numbers and exterminate them, although extermination was still a work in progress.

So, yes, the cold ones were our main prey, but— “The Order is about more than hunting cold ones. We keep the peace. We protect humanity. We are the law. Yes, I’m here as Ezekiel’s watcher, but I’m also head of this chapter, and it’s my job to make sure we do those things.”

Brittle laughter drifted in from the doorway carried by a tall, athletic woman dressed in the standard Order ensemble of black on black—easier to hide the blood stains.

Her curls were pinned on top of her head, leaving her heart-shaped face free of any stray tendrils. Her mouth was painted a vivid red which sat perfectly against her brown skin. It was the only obvious makeup she wore, and it accentuated her derisive sneer nicely when she spoke.

“The law? The only law here is their law, and the sooner you understand that the better.”

“Hello to you too, Padma,” Haidan said dryly.

She pulled out a seat opposite me and dropped into it, her hard gaze fixed on me like twin coals. “So, you’re my replacement?” She looked me up and down. “Heading up our stellar operation and babysitting the uber vamp. It should be an easy enough ride if you take my advice and steer clear of him. He’ll wreak havoc no matter what. The operatives that survived their duty were the ones wise enough to keep their distance and do their time. They lived, and they left words of warning in the archives.”

“I’m not into hiding from my problems. I face them head-on.”

“Then you’ll get yourself killed.”

“Maybe. But I’ll make damn sure to save a few lives in the process.”

“Like the two humans you saved today?” Her smile was cold and empty.

“Padma!” Haiden admonished.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “No. She’s right. I failed today. But I won’t fail again. I’ll find a way to control him. I won’t let him kill again.”

“He’s killing right now.”

“What?”

“Why do you think your freelance hunters were on the road to Branwood Castle earlier?”

“Padma…” Haiden warned.

But Padma ignored him, leaning forward across the table to drop the juicy gossip. “They were taking a cartload of humans to Ezekiel.” Ice filled my veins. “Criminals from New Town,” she continued. “But still humans for the slaughter. What the Order won’t tell you, and what we have here in our archives, is the truth. That beast feeds every rising. Feeds and kills. He has to; after all, he’s been asleep for almost a hundred years. That’s a lot of time to desiccate.”

I’d seen the damage. The skeletal form and papery skin. The blazing hunger in his eyes.

“They’re criminals,” Edwin said softly. “Murderers and…stuff.” But he didn’t sound too sure.

Padma shook her head. “Yeah, you tell yourself that, pigeon. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

But Edwin was right. “They would have to be marked for execution for the Order to send them.”

“Who said anything about the Order sending them? The Sangualex is in charge. They decide what constitutes a crime and each criminal’s fate.”

This was bullshit. “There are offices in New Town. Order offices. That’s where we’re supposed to be working.”

“The Sangualex took over that building years ago,” Padma said. “We go into New Town when need be. But otherwise, we stay here.”

“That isn’t how it’s meant to be. The Order needs to be told what’s happening here.”

She studied me for several beats, eyes narrowing. “Been a while since I came across a true faithful. Such fervor. Such belief. Maybe you can ask your chapter why we’ve been left here to rot. Why I was bluntly told not to upset the status quo?” She slapped her palm on the table. “I can tell you why: unless it’s a rising year, they don’t give a fuck about us. We’re a front. A way for them to keep their foot in the door to this territory. The nobles are the ones in charge here, and we’re their lackeys.”

My ire spiked, tightening my chest, but I exhaled against it, forcing it into submission. When I spoke, my tone was calm and even. “If they’re in charge, it’s because you’ve allowed them to be.”

She sat back as if I’d slapped her, red mouth parted, eyes glittering with an undefinable emotion. She took a breath, about to unleash, but Haiden pressed his hand to her shoulder, and she slumped back into her chair with a whispered exhale.

“You don’t have to believe us,” he said to me. “You can judge for yourself at the Exciatio in a few days. Historically the only time all the noble houses come together, it’s the mandatory welcoming ball for their king. It’ll be your opportunity to gauge just how little control the Order has here.”

Arguing was pointless. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe the Order’s control has slipped. Doesn’t mean we can’t get it back. I’m in charge now and?—”

Padma let out a bark of laughter. “Uh-huh, great. Good luck with that.”

Haiden placed a bowl of casserole in front of her. “Enough. Eat. You need it.”

I took a closer look at her, noting the residue of dirt beneath her fingernails and the specks of blood partially hidden in her hairline. She’d washed her face but not properly. There were dark smudges beneath her eyes too.

She caught me watching and shoved her chair back. “I’ll eat in my room.” She grabbed her bowl and strode out the door.

Edwin watched her go, his expression haunted.

This made no sense. None of it matched the Order I knew and loved. To leave the suckers in complete control of the humans…? No. That wasn’t what we were about.

Haiden placed a bowl in front of me. “Eat. Sleep. We can reconvene tomorrow. Everything looks better in the light of day.”

I didn’t strictly agree with that sentiment, but one thing was for sure: a rested body and mind functioned best, and tomorrow I’d begin finding the answers to all the questions that today had raised, as well as a way to keep the resident devil in check.