Chapter 20: Dangling the Bait
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They were in the vestibule of the Cavern nightclub when Razvan stepped over and took Cassidy by the arm.
“Get the car,” Razvan directed Dumitra as he extended the keys to her.
Dumitra accepted the keys and hurried out of the nightclub. Razvan waited inside the vestibule with Cassidy. Razvan instinctively knew how important it was to get her inside the car quickly. The fresh air outside would surely wash away her trance if given enough time. Experience told him that the close confinement of the car’s interior would make it easy for him to control her.
The car that Razvan and Dumitra arrived in was nearly a block down the street. It took Dumitra a minute to get to it and half of that to get it moving down the street. She stopped in the street outside the front entrance to the club, unlocked the car doors and honked the horn. Razvan immediately came out of the front entrance with Cassidy in tow. He quickly ushered a confused Cassidy over to the vehicle and into the backseat. He then slid in beside her and closed the door. Dumitra drove the car away from The Cavern as soon as the door was shut.
Cassidy remained in a deep trance throughout the transfer. Her stare was fixed and her posture rigid. Shortly after the car began to move, Razvan leaned over and whispered the word “sleep” into Cassidy’s ear and she immediately reclined limply into her seat and slept.
“What did we bring her for?” Dumitra queried as she drove. “Cristiãn will blame us for her death now.”
“He was going to blame us anyway,” Razvan disputed.
“But you don’t know that they were going to kill her,” Dumitra countered as she glanced into the rear-view mirror.
“Be smarter than that, Dumitra,” Razvan argued gruffly. “She tracked us here despite Cristiãn’s efforts to turn her away. Lucian was not going to risk all their lives on the hope that this policewoman could be kept in the dark. Cristiãn’s plan to save her was an improbable dream.”
Dumitra took some affront from Razvan’s harsh response, but she allowed the feeling to bleed away across a short span of time and with a few deep breaths.
“I still don’t understand why you brought her.” Dumitra said blandly.
“She’s bait,” Razvan explained succinctly.
Dumitra took a moment to think about Razvan’s reply. She soon understood what he meant, but Razvan began to qualify the statement before she could respond.
“Cristiãn will come after us no matter what the others decide. With Detective Tremaine, I can control the when, and the where.”
“If we kill Cristiãn, Nadja and Petru will come after us for sure,” Dumitra blurted out with a look of shock.
“We may not have to,” Razvan cunningly responded and with an introspective gaze.
“You’re going to try and recruit him,” Dumitra blurted out with sudden awareness.
“If I can,” Razvan agreed.
“And what if he doesn’t agree to join us?” Dumitra queried suggestively.
“Then we will do what we must,” Razvan grumbled defiantly.
This explanation removed Dumitra’s misgivings about taking Cassidy with them. Up until that moment, she had not considered the danger that Cristiãn represented to them. Razvan’s explanation made it clear to her just how much of a danger he could be. It suddenly felt reasonable to her that they take steps to deal with this threat now that they had the upper hand. It was not an easy decision. Cristiãn, like all the Dacia Vampires, was like a relative that she infrequently visited but still felt at ease with. But that kinship did not override her belief that it was either him or them.
The car ride went on in silence for the next few minutes. Dumitra had no more questions to ask of Razvan, and he had nothing more to tell. She fixed her concentration on steering the car. They both knew where they were going. As Dumitra drove, Razvan kept watch out the rear window. He feared that Cristiãn would pursue them. Nearly five minutes into their transit, he became convinced that he could relax some. He felt that if Cristiãn was in pursuit of them, then he would have seen him by this time. So now, he had the confidence to begin acting on his plan.
“What are you doing?” Dumitra inquired as she examined Razvan through the rear-view mirror.
Razvan had just pulled his cellphone from his suitcoat pocket and started dialing when Dumitra questioned him.
“I’m sending Cristiãn a text,” Razvan explained.
“Already?” Dumitra questioned with surprise.
“We don’t have unlimited time on this,” Razvan explained. “It won’t be long before someone starts missing Detective Tremaine.”
Dumitra gave his answer a moment of thought before blurting out the thought that popped into her mind.
“You can’t tell him where we’re going.”
Razvan ignored the comment as he continued to text his message.
~~~~~line break~~~~~
“Let go of me,” Cristiãn commanded as he struggled against Lucian, Augustus and Stefan’s restraining arms.
Cristiãn had been pinned to the floor for nearly three minutes. Nadja and Petru watched as he struggled to free himself, but they gave no assistance. The remaining twelve vampires were standing about in the middle of the U formation of tables. They alternated their attentions between Cristiãn’s struggle and Razvan’s exit from the club, but they did nothing to change either event. When Razvan and Cassidy left the club, they turned their full attentions to Cristiãn.
“Let him go,” Lucian instructed as he got up off his knees.
Stefan and Augustus followed Lucian’s command and simultaneously released Cristiãn. They quickly stood up and backed away from him. All eyes went to Cristiãn. They were eager to see what he would do now that Cassidy was gone.
“Get out!” Cristiãn demanded an instant after he got to his feet.
Lucian stepped over and confronted Cristiãn, glaring at him with imperious defiance. Augustus and Stefan took up positions immediately behind Cristiãn.
“Be careful, Cristiãn” Lucian advised coldly.
“I want you out of my club,” Cristiãn declared with less belligerence.
“Cristiãn,” Nadja called out in a pleading voice.
Nadja did not know what would happen if her brother continued to blatantly challenge Lucian to his face. She feared that half or more of their numbers were interpreting his actions as a threat to the whole. If this were true, she knew that a life-or-death vote could go against him.
“I’m going after her,” Cristiãn roared back at his sister.
“We’re all staying here until I say we leave,” Lucian ordered with finality.
Cristiãn said nothing as he stood scowling at Lucian. He knew that there was no chance of him fighting his way out. He also understood the reason for Nadja’s plea. He began to relax his defiant stance as his understanding became clearer in his own mind.
“Cristiãn, there’s nothing you can do,” Nadja implored with grave concern. “She’s gone; let her go.”
Cristiãn gave his sister a dejected look after hearing her words. He knew that any chance he had of following Razvan had faded. He desperately wanted to escape to his car so that he could pursue Razvan, but he was restrained by a consequence that he feared would come to pass. He knew that any effort to leave forcibly was not only futile but could endanger his continuing existence as well as that of sister and her mate. He knew that Nadja would fight for his life at the risk of her own.
Shortly, Lucian recognized Cristiãn’s resignation to the inevitable. He saw Cristiãn accept that Cassidy was too long gone for him to save her. It seemed extremely unlikely to Lucian that Razvan would take Cassidy to his home, and he suspected that Cristiãn would have realized that too. When Cristiãn turned his eyes down to the floor, Lucian felt the storm had passed and that it was okay to change the subject to the problem of Razvan and Dumitra.
“Cristiãn, it’s over,” Lucian put forth softly. “I need you to tell me that you understand that.”
“You should not have let him take her,” Cristiãn fumed in reply.
“Did you really think we were going to let her live,” Lucian returned with a look of incredulity. “She wasn’t even supposed to be here. Detective Tremaine has proven herself to be too much of a threat.”
“Lucian, we foreswore the killing of mortals,” Cristiãn challenged sharply.
Lucian took a step forward and gave Cristiãn a scowl.
“She was a danger to us all, Cristiãn.”
Cristiãn returned Lucian’s scowl with a look of anguish for several silent seconds.
“I could have protected us,” Cristiãn said despondently. “Isn’t that why we came together—to police ourselves and to protect mortals from beings like us?”
“We came together because that’s what we had to do to survive,” Lucian railed back at Cristiãn. “Mortals come and go. You know that. They wither and die. That is the truth of their existence. You can’t get attached to them.”
“Cassidy Tremaine was not in the twilight of her life,” Cristiãn roared back. “She has a family—children. Are we so special that mortals are insignificant by comparison? Is that what we have become—human overlords?”
“That is who we must be if we are to survive,” Lucian shouted. “We are immortals. By that fact alone, we are more than they. And so long as they are a threat to us, we must do what we must.”
“How divine we are?” Cristiãn returned with sarcasm and conciliation in his tone. “Immortality has given us the power to subsist off our inferiors like parasites.”
Lucian fumed while holding an angry stare on Cristiãn for several seconds, and then he softened his tone.
“We have to put this behind us,” Lucian insisted as he extended his hand. “I need to know that you will harbor no resentment toward us because of this mortal.”
Cristiãn stared with melancholy into Lucian’s face, then looked down at his hand with resentment and defeat. Shortly, he looked at Nadja; her face expressed a hope that he would accept Lucian’s hand. He then turned back to look at Lucian and took his hand.
“This includes Razvan and Dumitra,” Lucian declared while shaking Cristiãn’s hand. “There can be no retribution.”
Cristiãn instantly snatched his hand away with shock and anger on his face.
“You are mad, Lucian. I will never forgive them.”
“This has nothing to do with forgiveness,” Lucian returned. “This is a situation that concerns all of us.”
“They broke the covenant,” Cristiãn argued. “They have forfeited any right to your protection.”
“They are Strigoi,” Lucian declared forcefully. “They cannot be sanctioned for termination without a group vote.”
“A little while ago you were ready to kill them,” Cristiãn railed.
“That was then,” Lucian roared. “You cannot go after them.”
“I will have their…”
“Cristiãn!” Nadja shouted before her brother could complete his statement.
Cristiãn looked at his sister. Her face was a mask of terror. He knew exactly what she was thinking—that Lucian was considering if he should live or die. As he deliberated, he heard Sorin speaking to him.
“Cristiãn, if you’re not going to consider the group, then think of your sister.”
Cristiãn turned and slowly scanned the faces of everyone looking at him. Lucian took that moment to speak again.
“You need to convince us that you’re not going after Razvan and Dumitra.”
Cristiãn paused to consider that request. He thought it very likely that Lucian would call for a vote for his death if he did not agree. And he believed there was a 50/50 chance that he would survive the vote. He saw Stefan and Augustus positioning themselves to carry out the execution.
Despite the 50% probability, Cristiãn was reluctant to say the words. At that moment, what he wanted more than anything was Razvan’s head in his hands. After a few seconds, a feeling of defiance welled up in his chest like a burst of energy. The bloom of that defiance reached the tip of his tongue within seconds, and just as suddenly it subsided. He looked to Nadja and Petru and saw in them what he valued more than his own life. He feared that they would come to his aid and suffer the same fate. After a few seconds of thought, he looked at Lucian with a disheartened expression.
“I won’t put my sister at risk. You have my word.”
Lucian studied Cristiãn long and hard. He searched for signs of deception, and then he examined the other faces in the room. He suspected that any vote calling for Cristiãn death now would fall short. Nadja and Petru’s votes would be an automatic no. And he suspected that Cristiãn’s verbal concession had won over three or four others. To avoid exposing a split, Lucian chose to accept his reply.
“Okay, Cristiãn,” Lucian began with a stern face. “I will take you at your word, but don’t make us regret it. Because if we do, we will not forgive, and we will not forget.”
Everyone feared that Cristiãn was lying. They had this concern because exposure only meant that their comfortable existence within their own homes would change to a life of being perpetually on the run. Hiding was something they did far better than any mortal had yet to imagine, and their six decades of familiarity with this age provided them the wherewithal to be elusive in this time. Consequently, the danger that came with their exposure was not an automatic death sentence for any of them. This fact gave several of them cause to doubt that Cristiãn would keep his word, even to protect Nadja. Only Cristiãn knew for sure that his promise was indeed a lie.
“So, what do we do about Razvan?” Stefan asked after a prolonged silence.
Everyone was standing about in the center of the U formation of tables when they turned their eyes to Stefan and his question.
“While he has these files,” Lucian answered, “there’s nothing we can do.”
Cristiãn instantly threw up his hands in bewilderment after Lucian’s reply.
“Then what are we doing here?” Cristiãn questioned, completely bewildered. “The inquisition is over. We know who did the killings. Our business here is finished.”
“No, it’s not,” Lucian countermanded in a monotoned voice. “We have to discuss this.”
Cristiãn suspected Lucian’s reason for keeping him there: he wanted Razvan and Dumitra well away. They all knew that Razvan was not going to take Cassidy back to his home, and none of them had any idea where they would go. It was clear to everyone that Cristiãn had no chance to intercede on Cassidy’s behalf.
“Discuss what?” Cristiãn returned with irritation. “Razvan and Dumitra have made their escape. We now have no chance of stopping them from executing their plans.”
Lucian glanced about the room with a bland expression.
“I know that, Cristiãn,” Lucian responded in an annoyed tone. “But we do need to discuss how we are to proceed.”
Cristiãn knew that it was a valid subject of discussion, but he also knew it was a waste of time. He expected nothing of significance to be said and nothing of merit to be concluded, but he resigned himself to the inevitable.
“Okay talk,” Cristiãn returned dejectedly.
Cristiãn wore frustration on his face for all to see. He had given up hope of catching Razvan and Dumitra; it was far too late for that. He knew calling them on the phone was the only chance left to him. His plan was to threaten Razvan to the point of intimidation. He knew this meeting would delay his last meager plan by an hour or more. At that moment, he could only hope that Razvan would not harm her before he could make the call.
Almost immediately, talk of a likely breakup of their vampire union became the topic of the group’s discussion. From the start, Lucian, Elisabeta, Stefan and Helga were strongly in favor of maintaining the rule of the majority. The others were undecided. Two minutes into their talks a contentious split emerged on how they should proceed. Five of the seventeen vampires strongly believed that they should trash the covenant that they had made with each other centuries ago. Their position was based on the fact that Razvan and Dumitra’s withdrawal from the union made the rules obsolete. Lucian, Elisabeta, Stefan, Helga, Augustus and Alina were strongly opposed to abandoning the covenant. Cristiãn, Nadja and Petru were in support of keeping the covenant but with far less vehemence. The two sides argued their positions to the exclusion of all other business.
Cristiãn, Nadja, Petru, Adriana and Sorin stood together on the outer rim of this debate. About five-minute into the fray, Cristiãn’s cell phone began to vibrate. Everyone near him heard the throbbing sound inside his suitcoat pocket. Cristiãn reluctantly pulled the distraction from his pocket. He activated the cellphone and read the text message with complete surprise.
“Something wrong?” Adriana asked.
Cristiãn momentarily ignored her question as he reread the text for a second and third time.
“No, nothing’s wrong,” Cristiãn halfheartedly assured without looking up from his cell phone.
As Cristiãn pocketed his cellphone, he lowered his gaze to the floor. He pondered the purpose behind Razvan’s message. When he looked up, he saw Adriana, Sorin, Nadja and Petru examining him.
“A supplier,” Cristiãn dismissed nonchalantly. “He’s reneging on his delivery date. It’s not a problem.”
Adriana and Sorin accepted Cristiãn’s answer without doubt. Nadja was suspicious because of his distracted expression. Petru knew it was a lie because of their sympathetic pheromone connection. Cristiãn looked at his sister and brother-in-law with concern. A moment later, he turned and set off to correct the overturned tables and chairs and collect the broken dishes, silverware and scattered raw meat on the floor.
“Where are you going?” Lucian questioned sharply.
All communication stopped as all eyes turned to Cristiãn. He stopped and turned to face Lucian.
“This discussion is getting a little long. And since it doesn’t appear to be winding down,” Cristian stated with ample sarcasm, “I thought I should fulfill my duties as host.”
Lucian knew there was a rear exit to the club. He feared Cristiãn would make use of it, and his answer did little to dissuade him from that concern. But he also knew that Razvan and Dumitra were well away. He concluded that now was a good opportunity to learn if Cristiãn was going to be true to his word. He thought it better to find out now while they were all still in the city rather than later when they were gone.
“Okay,” Lucian acknowledged after a moment of thought.
Lucian watched as Cristiãn set himself to the task of righting tables and chairs. Shortly, he turned his attention back to the discussion; everyone followed his lead except Nadja and Petru. They kept Cristiãn’s every move fixed in the corner of their eyes. After he finished righting the tables and chairs, they watched as he walked back to the kitchen doors and disappeared behind them.
When Cristiãn reached the seclusion of the kitchen, his passive demeanor quickly changed into that of a man in a hurry. He raced over to the spice cupboard, flung open the doors and searched through the large selection of herbs and seasonings. After a prolonged search, he found the seasoning he was looking for. He quickly took it over to the kitchen’s center island and set it down, then pulled a fold top sandwich bag from a spool inside another cabinet and brought it back to the center island.
Cristiãn poured the seasoning into the sandwich bag as delicately as he could. The small amount of powder that floated up from the bag instantly made him cough and gag and make his eyes begin to water. Despite his reactions, he suffered through the task and was done in a matter of seconds. When he finished, he had just enough seasoning in the sandwich bag to fill one-fourth of a small saltshaker. He quickly closed the bag and the bottle, returned the bottle back to the cupboard and stuffed the sandwich bag into a small cellphone pocket in the lower left lining of his suit coat.
The sound of Cristiãn’s movements in the adjacent room was indiscernible over the multiple conversations occurring in the dining area. At first Lucian ignored this silence from the kitchen, but concern began to intensify two minutes into it. He was another minute away from going into the kitchen to search him out when Cristiãn walked back into the room.
Cristiãn came back into the main room of the club with a large tray in one hand and a towel in the other. When he got back to the spill area, he began to pile the broken plates, glasses, silverware and bits of raw meat on top of the tray. His activity was of no interest to anyone there except Nadja and Petru. While everyone else ignored him, Nadja and Petru watched him with surreptitious glances. During one such look, Nadja saw Cristiãn put something on the tray that was not supposed to go there. Petru was less interested in what he saw. The pheromones coming off Cristiãn’s body told him that he was actively working a deception. He also noted from Nadja’s pheromones that she had just caught sight of something. He promptly shifted his gaze to her, and she returned his look with concern.
“Is something wrong?” Sorin asked Nadja.
“No, no,” Nadja quickly responded, shaking her head. “I’m just wondering where this is all leading to.”
“I think it’s going to end badly,” Adriana expressed with a dismayed shake of her head.
Instinctively, Nadja turned her attention back toward the debate to give cover to her brother. Adriana and Sorin followed her lead. As Nadja redirected Adriana and Sorin’s attentions, Cristiãn began wiping up the wet spots on the floor with the towel. When he had finished, he stood up and set off for the kitchen with the tray on top of his hand and the towel draped over the top of it. By this time, the diverging positions of the main group of vampires had turned into a shouting match. It was under the cover of this verbal contest that Cristiãn had gathered up Cassidy’s gun and cellphone, then slipped away to the kitchen.
Nadja and Petru were the only ones to see him leave the room. They helped him in his escape by saying nothing as he moved away. He was also helped by the expectations of the others that he would be the last to leave the club. They expected him to lock up when they left. Cristiãn was counting on that expectation to give him the time he needed.
When Cristiãn was back inside the kitchen, he set the tray on a counter, pocketed Cassidy’s cellphone and gun, then he hurried over to the rear entrance to the club. He quietly unlocked the door and slipped out into the alleyway behind The Cavern. After quietly closing the door behind himself, Cristiãn hurried around to the front of the club and hurried to his car. Shortly he was inside his car and racing down the street. As he drove, Cristiãn took his cellphone out from his breast pocket and read the text again.
Call me if you want to see your girlfriend alive.
After reading the text for the second time, Cristiãn accessed the cellphone app and dialed Razvan.
“Where are you?” Razvan questioned in place of a greeting.
“I’m in Manhattan—I’m in my car,” Cristiãn responded tersely. “Where is she?”
“Are you alone?” Razvan asked without thought for Cristiãn’s inquiry.
“Yes, I’m alone,” Cristiãn answered with insistence. “Now tell me, where have you taken Cassidy?”
Once again Razvan ignored Cristiãn’s question in favor of the instructions he wanted to relay.
“There’s a Quik Park on North Third Street and Kent Avenue in Brooklyn. Park your car and wait on the southeast corner of Third and River.”
For a moment, nothing else was said. Cristiãn concluded that none of his questions were going to be answered over the phone. Razvan waited to hear Cristiãn’s agreement to his instructions. When it became clear that he was not going to say anything, Razvan finished with his closing remark.
“And Cristiãn, be alone.”
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