Hesitantly, I pick the book up. “Manifesto?”
“A manifesto is what I like to call it. It’s more the inner-workings of Mount Rook and the expectations of those who belong to the society and the prospects of each of its branches.”
“Branches?” I open the book, Mikey leaning over to speed read the pages. The book is at least six or seven hundred pages long, the spine an inch and a half thick. “What do you mean?”
“The societies, associations, and people Mount Rook controls.”
Can’t be… that easy…
I turn to face Mikey, her jaw tight. She’d spoken again. Maybe it was through thought, but I heard it. When she realizes what she did, her eyes light up and her skeleton smile widens.
“Mount Rook has its hooks deep in the government and other large, well-known corporations. Anyone who’s anyone is a part of them. It’s like you can’t have a name without pledging allegiance to them.” He rests his elbows on the desk. “But if you’re traversing this path, I advise utmost caution. They have spies everywhere. It took a lot of manpower to swipe this from one of their members.”
“Why do you have it?”
Nick pauses. “I knew someone who used to be a part of Mount Rook. They don’t know it’s me who took it, unless they don’t care.”
Mikey gingerly removes the books from my hands.
“Would that someone be Maverick?” I pry.
Nick flashes his pearly whites, beaming. “You’re a master at reading between the lines.”
“I’m also a master at not getting killed by vampires, apparently.” I tell him about the attack we’d experienced and how we got away by the skin of our teeth, thanks to some impromptu fire.
“Maverick and Ein. I warned them about what they were getting into before the barriers arced. But love can drive some men mad. Even immortal ones.”
Vampires and other creatures that live centuries at a time have been called immortals, but they can be killed like anyone else. The sole, truly immortal creatures are Bleeders, and that’s one reason everyone both despises and wishes to be one of us. But it only affects humans and zombies. It’s even rare for hybrids to survive the transformation process. I scratched my best friend Etem on accident, and he got lucky his ogre DNA didn’t reject Bleederism, or he’d explode like a Draugr named Reginald had after Mikey’d scratched him.
I recall the way Maverick reached out for Ari, the way pain lined his features when she pulled away from him. “Maverick fell for a Bleeder named Ari, correct?”
The corners of Nick’s mouth quirk. “She wasn’t a Bleeder before. In fact, Bleeders didn’t even exist until after the surge. History tells you that, doesn’t it?”
His irises glimmer strangely.
“History is written by the victors, correct?” I ask. “It hardly takes a few generations to forget history, isn’t that right?”
Nick’s grin widens. “You are correct, Zeke. Even lies can become truths if they’re said enough, yes?”
I scratch my chin, watching the vampire. “How do I know which is real?”
Nick sits back in his chair. “You look for proof and compare it to what you’ve been told. What other way is there to deduce what’s real and what’s make believe?” He reaches into his drawer and produces a bookmark with a quote on it. “That being said, seeing isn’t always believing, you two. Sometimes believing is seeing.”
I lift the bookmark. Ask, and it shall be given to you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.
“You’re really doubling down on trying to teach me a lesson,” I mutter as I set the bookmark on the edge of the table to make it easier for Mikey to pick up when she needs it.
“Yes, well, if you learn nothing from an interaction, what’s the point?”
I glance at Mikey, but she’s fully invested in the book before her. She’s flipping through quickly, her head moving slightly with her shifting field of view.
“How did you come to know Maverick?”
Nick chuckles. “This was his home for the longest time. Before and after the war. It was a while before he left, wanting to help the humans with their fight. He’s always favored them, and not because we need them to survive. He has a soft spot for them. Won’t even drink directly from someone’s vein without permission. Prefers blood bags and boxes. I’m not sure if he’s even killed anyone except out of self-defense. And when he acquired those friends of his, he started getting into loads of trouble.” Nick pauses, readjusting. “In the long run, though, I believe it was good for him. It got him out of MR and into a better headspace. He didn’t agree with their code, but found himself in their clutches, nonetheless.”
I nod. “Thank you for all of this. If we have more questions in the future, can we count on you?”
Mikey chuckles at something.
“Sure you can,” he says, rising from his seat. “But. I have a favor to ask of you in return for all this information and future information. Of course, I might have requests in the future as well, but that’s the way relationships work, is it not?”
I stand as well. “Of course.”
He picks up a picture frame and opens it from the back, taking the picture out and offering it to me. A woman with dark skin and hair faces the camera, holding a young boy.
“My wife, Akasha, and son, Harry, have disappeared, and I suspect it’s Mount Rook’s doing. I have no evidence except for a phone call I’d shared with Akasha, and even that’s long gone.”
“How long have they been missing?”
“Fifteen years.” Nick shoves his fists in his pockets. “I did everything I could to find them, but I got too close. Their lives were threatened, along with my coven and myself. I had to back off, but I’ve never given up. And now that you seem to be fired up to find out the truth…” He shakes his head. “If you see them, please help them. And if they no longer breathe… please share that information with me.”
Before I say anything, Mikey reaches out and touches Nick’s arm, offering her condolences. Our weak spot for family has us enraptured in conviction.
“We will. Thank you.”
A tight smile graces his lips. “You’re welcome to stay here, should you need it. I’m acutely aware of who’s watching you.”
I weigh his words for a minute before giving an answer. “No, that’s okay. If you asked a few hours ago, it’d be a different story. We don’t have any dogs on our tails anymore, so I’d rather get going before they pick up our scent.”
Nick taps his fingers along his desk’s surface. “Mangey things. But good at what they do. Ashamed to say I owned a few of them in the early days, but I treated them more like pets than slaves. That has to be worth something.”
He leads us back to the door and lingers on the knob as he grabs it. “One last thing. My knowledge doesn’t just come from my own investigations. Most vampires know who Mount Rook is because we make up the majority of its population. If you find the right vampires to trust, hang on to them. There’s a good reason most creatures hate us, and it isn’t because humans romanticize us more than any other. We can be sneaky, vile things, even those with souls. But even with all of that, there is one species you can never trust, and it’s not wizards or sorcerers.” He pauses, and I can’t tell if it’s for dramatics. “It’s the elves.”
I raise my eyebrows. The creatures who won’t get their hands dirty and keep to themselves? “Seriously?”
He quirks an eyebrow. “Those in positions of power do whatever they can to not lift a finger.”
“So what you’re saying is Mount Rook is run by elves?”
Nick flashes a smirk. “What I’m saying is nothing is clean cut. The answer is always more complicated than you think.”
He opens the door and ushers us out. “Thank you for stopping by. Really. Word reached our ears that you were growing your shroud. Let me be the first to inform you, you have an ally in my house. Simply send me a message and I will rally whoever I can to fight alongside you. If the nefarious plans of our shadowed overlords come to fruition, we’re the next on the chopping block, and we will align ourselves with those who wish for us to stay breathing.” He gives a modest bow before motioning up the stairs. “Esmeralda showed you the way here. I trust you can find the front door.”
“Yes, thank you.”
“And as for the manifesto, please return it when you can. I’d hate to see it lost among the ashes of a world on fire.”
Mikey tucks the book back under her arm. “Thank you.”
She beams in my direction at her ability to speak more as Nick shuts the door. She holds out her hand, and I assume she’s wanting the device.
“In here? Really?” I ask as I dig it out of my jacket pocket and place it in her palm. She trades it for the book, the almost-tome heavy on my fingers. I rummage through the pages as we shuffle back to the feeding area. Mikey continuously presses the second button, able to stay in her normal form for longer, but it snaps right back. The transition is slower, but she’s still stuck Raging Out.
She presses the first button, and my body immediately reacts. I shoot her a sour look as I struggle to keep hold of the book. She smiles sheepishly. “Sorry.”
Pressing the blue button, we return to our normal forms. She lets out a quiet squeal right as we step into the room. I watch her, mesmerized by the excitement in her movements.
“I… did it,” she says on an exhale, still having difficulty with communication. “If I… keep trying—”
Her face pales as her focus snags on something across the room. I follow her gaze to a woman seated in a red loveseat, a vampire drinking from her wrist. Curly brunette hair brushes her collarbone, a black corset cinches her waist, and a floor-length red skirt drapes around her ankles and bare feet. Anklets clink together as she moves, her eyes rolling back in pleasure.
The waves of anger rolling off Mikey suddenly tell me everything I need to know.
This is the woman who abandoned her family to live a life with a vampire coven.
Her stepmother.