2. HIDING IN PLAIN SIGHT

HIDING IN PLAIN SIGHT

D aemon lifted his head to watch the flying vehicles coming towards them. Helicopters, that's what they were called according to Julian's mind. His fledgling feared these helicopters, not because of their aggressive almost insectile look or the loud sounds they made as they approached, but because they would contain people with cameras which would spread their images--and all the dead--all over the world.

Julian tugged on his arm. "We need to go inside. I don't think their cameras have seen us yet. We need to get undercover."

Daemon allowed the future to play out before him. He saw how it would go if they stayed outside and allowed the cameras to show them to everyone. Their images would literally encircle the world in less than a day.

In the future, he glimpsed into tens of thousands of homes around the world, in every country, in every culture as people were glued to their televisions, laptops, phones and tablets. He saw wide-eyed children, noses practically pressed to the screens, and parents frantically trying to stop them from seeing what was impossible .

Two beautiful men in tuxedos standing amongst the colorful dead. Women in their gowns cut down like flowers. Men in their suits sprawled inelegantly. His red eyes would be debated as fake or real. Were they CGI or contacts or some freak of nature? Or maybe, just maybe, he wasn't human. People would see their beauty but also all the death. Beautiful monsters, they would call him and Julian.

The looks on the faces of the dead would be ones of surprise. They had not expected to die. There was no pain etched into their features either. Not exactly. So they didn't die in agony. But the sense of life cut too short would be remarked upon again and again. And this seemed all the more terrible in a way.

There had been no danger that these people had seen before their souls were sundered from their bodies. They hadn't experienced agony or fear. What had happened was too quick for that to register. But it also meant there was no way to avoid what had happened. There was no way to protect oneself.

People huddled in their homes with curtains drawn or sought sanctuary in churches, mosques, temples and other places of religious significance. Everything was a portent from the extinguishing of a candle to a flock of birds to the sky darkening with a storm. Superstition roamed every street in every country.

But they would not all be wrong about being afraid. Because others who followed Kaly, or simply feared Daemon, would do the same as Kara had done or close to it. Dozens dead here. A family dead there. A whole village wiped off the map. Nowhere and nothing was safe. The only thing that seemed to offer hope was the coming of the day. All the incidents apparently happened at night.

Then the word "Vampire" would be reported and things would become darker for many. Those who feared them would fear them more and never accept that he and Julian were not responsible for the slaughter of the "Bright Lights" as those in the museum would be called. There would be rumors that these Bright Lights had met to form opposition to Daemon with the charity aspect being a front. But he had chopped them down before they had begun to fight.

There would be conspiracy theorists which would wax on about the end of the world, a new world order, the coming enslavement of humanity, chemtrails and the dangers of fluoride in the water. All of them would be Vampire plots.

There would be those excited by the prospect of Vampires. They would want to see if they could harness for themselves the strengths of the immortal beings. Later, they would want to have those strengths themselves, not just for their soldiers on the front lines. Immortality, eternal youth, magical powers, ancient knowledge and more would lure them in like flies to honey.

All of this would happen in some form or another no matter how or when Daemon revealed the existence of Vampires and Immortals to the world, he knew, but this way, there would always be a black mark, a crimson stain, to start and it would never be washed away. It would remain there. A darkening. That a Kaly Vampire had done this--in front of him, no less--was a terrible slight. But to have it poison all he intended? No, he would not have it.

Red washed over Daemon's vision. Julian was right. They should not be seen or associated with this. Already though because it had happened, because it was so huge, there would always be those that connected the dots, but he needed to stem that tide as much as he could.

"Daemon, please, we need to get out of here!" Julian's voice was tight with alarm.

"There is no need to go anywhere," he said calmly.

"But you agree with me! We can't be seen!" Julian had followed his thoughts evidently. That was good. They were becoming more and more aligned.

"You are thinking like a human, Julian. Experience the power of the Helm Bloodline. To turn invisible," Daemon replied gently.

"Wha--oh, man!" Julian gasped as they disappeared even from sight of each other. He felt rather than saw Julian wave a hand in front of his own face. "I can't even see myself! This is wild! We wouldn't have to leave and they wouldn't know we were here!"

"Exactly. I can already sense that there are many Acolytes aligned with various of the Bloodlines among those coming here now, but not all are on our side yet," Daemon explained. "We need to stay and assist those who serve us."

"Right!" He could still sense Julian's awe at being invisible.

Watch me, fledgling. Learn, he told Julian. There were more wonders to show.

Daemon's eyes narrowed as he touched the minds of those in the helicopters. Fear, excitement and curiosity washed over him.

This is going to be the story of the decade! One thought.

Those bright spots of color… are those bodies? Another thought.

Tell me the camera is getting this!!! Came another.

Could they all be dead? My God, most of the politicians in the city were at the museum! What will happen to the city?

What could have killed them all? A terrorist group? Are we hearing any chatter?

House Wynter wants us to keep this under wraps? How? That was made by one of the reporters who was having to feign more excitement than alarm and anxiety. Is that--that the Vampire King by the doors?! My God… he's real. And we're taping this!

Let me help you with that, Daemon thought.

Is that… Is that you? The Acolyte stammered.

Be at ease, Daemon told her.

He felt a calm sweep through the Acolyte at his command.

Daemon's mind filtered through everyone else's, erasing his and Julian's presences from their minds. The cameras pointed their way abruptly malfunctioned as Daemon used the Ashyr Bloodline gift to wrench out delicate electronics.

Whoa! You short circuited them! Julian realized.

I made them cease functioning, Daemon admitted.

There's a digital recording already of what they've filmed, Julian explained. Can you destroy that?

Daemon's forehead furrowed. I do not know what I am looking for.

Ah, me neither, Julian admitted.

If I do too much physical damage to their cameras it will cause suspicion in any event, Daemon stated. Already with all of their devices malfunctioning, there will be questions.

Yeah, totally, Julian agreed. I guess maybe House Wynter can do something later?

But Julian's mind voice held a note of worry. Daemon understood this. The longer any evidence of them being there existed, the greater the risk of discovery.

There is another way. While we may not understand how these cameras work, the ones who run them do, Daemon explained. Let us use that against them.

With another touch of his mind, the camera operators erased the recording yet neither they nor anyone else would remember them doing so.

Clever! Julian laughed. But erasing may not be enough. Things can always be recovered.

Daemon once again reached out to the Acolyte. The cameras are no longer functioning. The recordings have been erased.

That won't be enough! The Acolyte cried.

Those cameras need to disappear, Daemon told her.

Yes, yes, I can think of something, the Acolyte answered with a swallow.

Again, be not afraid. Be calm. Be deliberate, Daemon said as he shored up her confidence.

Daemon heard curses from the reporters and frantic calls for new equipment to be brought immediately. They were missing a massive story. And hadn't there appeared to be two people at the top of the stairs, right by the museum's doors? No, no, there hadn't been. That had just been a trick of the light. There was no one there now that they could see.

The helicopters began to turn around. Without cameras, the reporters would be hamstrung. They would have to come back. But other news crews were on the way. These ones would not have seen Julian and Daemon.

They're leaving! Julian cried.

For now. But they will return and others will come. Yet they will not have seen us, Daemon stated.

Dozens of police cruisers and ambulances roared into the parking lot with their lights flashing and their sirens blaring screeched into the parking lot. Police officers and medical personnel spilled out of the vehicles and raced towards the stairs.

The police officers had their guns drawn and were advancing first, urging the ambulance crews to keep back. But the sight of so many fallen had the medical personnel not caring about their own safety. They wanted to get in there to see who they could save. If there was anyone to save.

The police officers picked their way up the steps, gingerly avoiding bodies, as the ambulance crews kneeled down to check for pulses.

"Any alive?" A young female officer asked the paramedic near her feet.

The paramedic shook his head. Her expression tightened.

"What did this?" she hissed to her fellow officer.

"Look inside," a fellow male officer stated with dread in his voice.

They both saw the carpet of dead bodies over the white marble floor. Both paled and swallowed. The thoughts of the humans present were filled with confusion, fear and anger.

Who did this?

What did this?

Are we in danger?

I'm not going in there. But we have to go in there.

Is anyone still alive?

Oh, my God, I think I saw them on television. It's that actress--

Is that Councilman Wayner? Wasn't the mayor supposed to be here tonight? What's going to happen if they're both dead? If they're all dead?

We should get out of their way, Julian suggested as they were still standing at the top of the steps right by the doors.

Daemon agreed. They were standing in a narrow clear space. There was some room by the edge of the stairs on the right side. But between them and that space were bodies. Julian shifted his weight and a woman's beaded handbag made a slight scraping sound. Like bloodhounds, the emergency personnel lifted their heads as if they'd caught a scent on the wind.

Oh, no, Julian said as he froze. Panic filled his fledgling.

"Someone moved over there! C'mon let's see!" A paramedic cried.

As five paramedics raced towards them, Daemon put a hand on Julian's shoulder and teleported them to the empty area near the stairs. Julian clung to him, heart beating rapidly and breathing staccato. He had thought he had given them away. He had also worried how the paramedics would have reacted to bumping into someone who was invisible.

Thanks. Invisible isn't silent, Julian said with a faint laugh. Watching the paramedics frantically search for a living person, Julian added sadly, I've just made things worse. They're so hoping someone is okay.

Hope is one of the best things about humans.

"Do you have a pulse? Anything?" One paramedic asked the other.

"No, nothing."

Shoulders slumped. Quick movements slowed. A sort of desperate malaise washed over them.

"No one's alive out here. We've got to get inside," another of the paramedics said, disappointment written large on his craggy face.

There were three police officers at the doors. They were peering inside the museum looking for signs of life of a victim or whatever or whomever had done this.

"Hang back!" A woman dressed in a police uniform with more bars on her shoulders and at her throat commanded as she stepped out of an unmarked cruiser. "We've heard that this could be some kind of gas release. We need to wait on hazmat crews!"

"A gas release wouldn't affect people outside, would it?" One of the ambulance crews protested.

"Maybe it's poisonous gas. Like sarin," another suggested and everyone froze.

"Can't you die from sarin just by touching affected people? It passes from person to person that way," a police officer suggested as he stepped back from a corpse. "That's what happened in Japan when that crazy cult let off a bomb of it on a commuter train!"

Panic swelled among everyone as paramedics looked down at their gloved hands and wondered if sarin could pass through the rubber material and enter their skin.

The woman who had urged everyone back was in her mid-fifties and had an air of respect gestured for everyone to retreat. "I cannot allow anyone to go inside that building. As these poor people are all deceased out here, nothing can be done to help them. We have specialists coming.

She's an Acolyte! A friend of Rajani's! Julian cried. His fledgling had touched her mind lightly and read that thought.

Yes, she is. This is a wise story. Make the museum too dangerous to enter, Daemon replied with approval.

"But Superintendent Chambers, what if there are people inside?" An officer cried, even though there was no sign of life through the glass doors.

The Superintendent already knew from Rajani that there was no one alive, no one to be saved, so she had no guilt in telling everyone, "I cannot allow you to enter that museum. Until we know for certain what's caused this, I could be sending you in only to die. Hazmat units are coming. This is the best thing to do."

There were murmurs of worry. Everyone was leery now of the dead, but also aching to make sure there was no one they could save. But the Superintendent's words were calm and measured. People believed her.

"Now, we need to set up a perimeter around the entire museum's grounds. No one--and I repeat no one --is to get in or out who is not authorized," she said, gesturing towards the property. "This is what you can do. Medical personnel, please withdraw to your vehicles for the time being. If there is anyone for you to help, we will alert you."

Daemon caught sight of news crews arriving just as the paramedics carefully walked down the steps. Bright lights from cameras blared on and some of the paramedics lifted arms to shield their eyes from the glare. Reporters began to shout questions at the Superintendent.

"Why are the paramedics leaving?"

"Is there anyone left alive?"

"What's the death toll?"

"Has anyone taken responsibility for this? It's terrorism, isn't it?"

The Superintendent ignored all of the questions and said sharply, "We need an evidence tent here right away!"

That would screen the dead that littered the stairs from the cameras, although not before a loop of the images they already had would be put on air, according to Julian.

We need to take advantage of the building still being empty. There's got to be some kind of security room inside the museum where the cameras are controlled, Julian suggested. We should find it and you can do that short circuiting thing.

Indeed, that seems wise.

Julian went to open the nearest door to the museum. Daemon caught his arm.

What? What's wrong? His fledgling asked.

Daemon smiled. We are invisible. The doors are not.

Oh… OH! That would totally freak everybody out to have the doors simply open on their own seemingly, Julian realized. So we need another way in? Maybe a door at the back, out of sight?

Or? Daemon prompted.

Julian let out a laugh. I'm not thinking like a Vampire again. Teleport! We teleport inside!

Exactly .

Daemon pulled Julian to him and teleported them just on the other side of the glass doors. There was no one alive to tell him where this security room was and Julian did not know, so they had to search for it. They were near a directory that showed a map of all of the floors of the museum. It appeared that the security offices were on the first floor at the back of the museum. Not having been there, teleporting would be unwise.

I know where we have to go. Come on, Julian suggested.

The two of them moved away from the front doors and through the tangle of dead. The sepulchral silence was getting to his fledgling.

I swear I keep thinking I hear something or someone , Julian confessed as they located a door beyond which should be a long hallway that would lead them to several offices, among which was the security office. Julian tried the door.

Locked! Can we teleport to the other side? Julian asked.

Without being able to visualize it, we may end up half in and half out of a wall, Daemon answered.

Ah, not a good idea. Okay… oh! We could use a pass card, Julian suggested as he saw the card reader to the side of the door with a red light on. But they'll have a log for this. It'll show someone entering this hallway after everyone died.

Then we use a simpler method that cannot be traced, Daemon suggested.

He leaned his shoulder against the door. There was a cracking sound as the door jam splintered and the entirety of the door and the surrounding wall swung inwards. The red light stayed red, still thinking that the door was shut. Julian let out a little laugh.

Okay, that is simpler. Though they are really going to wonder what happened here, Julian stated.

Yes, but they will not know when we entered. Daemon shrugged.

The two of them swiftly entered the hallway. The dead were not left behind though. There was a woman dressed in sensible slacks and a sweater who lay half in and half out of a doorway. She had clearly been working late. Daemon felt Julian's sadness that she had been here at all. They carefully walked past her.

They easily found the security office. There was another secure door to get past. Once more, Daemon used his strength to open the door again. Inside there were three dead guards. Two of which were seated in chairs in front of a wall of monitors that showed live feeds from every part of the museum. The third guard was lying on the floor. A cup of spilled coffee lay six inches from his outstretched right hand.

They had no idea what was going to happen , Julian murmured. No idea at all.

Daemon had seen countless deaths, many pointless, but it never failed to affect him. As a being who held eternity in his hand, he felt the pointlessness of a life partially lived.

Julian shook himself and walked over to the seated guards. He gently moved one of the guards out of the way and stared at one of the monitors that was controlling the feeds. Julian clicked around various screens. Daemon merely stood by as his fledgling manipulated the technology that was still beyond him.

I think this is beyond me! Julian admitted. Wait! I think I've found where the recordings are being saved. Looks like they're saved by camera number and date. Yeah, these are all from today. Let's look at one.

He clicked on various of the files and they showed up as individual windows on the screen. It took some time but Julian found the recording of the feed where Kara killed everyone. They watched as the scene played over again before them though it was silent as the sound was not captured. As everyone collapsed to the ground like felled trees, Daemon's lips skinned back from his teeth.

This cannot happen again, Daemon thought.

How do we stop it? Julian asked. Imprison every Kaly? Search their minds for betrayal?

What I have given can be taken away, Daemon stated.

Julian's head snapped towards his, eyes wide, lips parted. You mean to use Armageddon on them all?!

If it must be, Daemon answered.

Every Kaly…

Anyone who follows them, will feel my wrath. Nowhere will be safe for them , Daemon said.

Julian looked back at the files. I can destroy these, but again, things erased can be recovered. And I'm not sure there isn't some backup server elsewhere that keeps the recordings as well so--

Daemon didn't hear the rest of what Julian was saying as Balthazar's voice suddenly screamed in his head, Kaly! Daemon, Kaly is here! The Well of All Souls!

And then Balthazar's voice was gone.