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TOGVIADO
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Shreveport, Louisiana – 2008
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“Is there any way you can deliver it to Rico’s? I’ll pay extra,” I asked Archie. I was already in a cab on the way to work.
“Sure, I can do that, but no extra charge. I got a buddy who works there. I’ll have one of my buddies follow me there.”
Wow, that was nice.
Twenty minutes later, before we opened, I looked out the window and saw Archie and another of his Rebel Riders buddies pulling up. Archie drove my bike, his friend in a sports car.
“Thanks for the delivery. I didn’t want to be late for work,” I said to Archie as he handed me my keys.
“What do I owe you?” I asked, pulling out my wallet.
“Information,” Archie replied.
I tore my gaze from my wallet to the old timer. “Excuse me?”
He glanced around the parking lot before spitting a wad of chew onto the cement. Looking at me, he said, “I know you’re a vamp. Just like Jesse. Just know that we keep tabs on every last one of you.”
Surprisingly, the way he spoke wasn’t hateful or disgusted. Just more matter-of-fact and businesslike.
“How did you know?” I asked, curious.
He jutted a thumb behind him at the car. “My buddy has a sixth sense about this stuff. Don’t ask. Even I don’t get it. But it is what it is.”
I glanced at the driver once more, who seemed to be staring in our direction.
“What do you want from me?” I asked.
“Compliance. I find you or any of your bloodsucking friends feedin’ on humans, I take you out. All of you. You dig?”
I bit back a grin at his threat and said, “Listen, I think there’s something you need to know about me. I—”
He held up a hand, cutting me off with a head shake. “No, I know all I need to know about you, and that is that you’re a monster. I don’t kill unless necessary, so keep your sick, twisted desires beneath the surface and we can all coexist. Have a good night, Mr. Matson.”
He turned and walked slowly toward the car, his cane clanking on the concrete.
“I’m a hunter too, Archie,” I called out, my arms folded across the Rico’s tee I wore.
He stopped his gait and slowly turned around. “What the fuck did you just say?”
I lifted my chin. “Me... we... my buddy and I. We hunt those who need to be hunted. Out of control werewolves. Slimy humans. Rogue vamps. I’m on your side, Archie. I always have been, and I always will be. I don’t take human lives and never have.”
Well, that was mostly true.
Archie regarded me carefully as the driver got out of the Camaro.
“He’s full of shit,” his friend said.
I threw him an annoyed look and focused my attention on Archie. “I’m not full of shit. Tell you what, meet me at Benny’s Diner tomorrow night. Say, seven p.m. I’ll shoot straight with you.”
After a long, uncomfortable silence, he nodded slightly and got in the car. I watched as they drove off, letting go of the breath I didn’t need before wandering inside for my shift. I had a small .22 pistol hidden under my pantleg and I prayed the whole time I wasn’t going to have to use it. Archie seemed like good people, and I couldn’t blame him for his standoffish attitude.
Now the other guy, his “buddy”? I hoped he stayed out of my way.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Shadow said, sipping the hot coffee.
“And I don’t see how we have a choice. We just bought that fucking house and I’m tired of moving around, man.”
He snorted. “I can’t argue with that. Guess we can just kill them all if they pose a problem for us.”
I shook my head. “No, no killing. We will coexist with them. There has to be a way.” I trailed my finger over the rim of the water glass set in front of me. “Besides, I like Shreveport. I like my job. I like the upgrades we’ve done to the house. Maybe we can settle down here. Find some women.”
“I’ve already met a few,” Shadow said, grinning.
I rolled my eyes. “For a good fuck? Oh, I’m sure you have.”
“What else for?”
“Stop it,” I said, biting back a smile. “You get info on that victim, by the way?”
He set his coffee down and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket.
The bell above the door to the diner chimed and I watched as Archie ambled in. He spotted us and headed our way. Stealing a vacant chair from a nearby table, he pushed it over and sat backward on it.
The waitress came over and said, “Hi, Archie. The usual?”
He nodded. “Yes, Krissy. Thank you.”
She walked off and he turned toward us. “Start talking, Vane.”
“I prefer Viper,” I said back.
He rolled his eyes. “Of course you do. Bloodsucking snakes.” He looked up at Shadow. “All of you.”
“Like I haven’t heard that before,” I commented wryly.
“Get to the point,” Archie said.
“Shadow and I come from a club in Michigan, the Serpents. Our leader, Cobra, taught me everything I know. Taught us,” I said, pointing at Shadow. “We protect our own and get rid of those who threaten to fuck with our way of life. That includes other supes. We don’t play that comradery game. Anyone or anything that threatens to expose us, we take them out. Period. We hold no loyalty to anyone but our club brothers.”
Archie looked surprised but quickly recovered. “And what club is that?”
“Here you go, hon,” Krissy said, setting a basket of cheese fries and a fizzing Coke in front of him.
“Thanks, babe,” he said as he picked up the soda and gulped half of it down as Krissy walked away.
I wrinkled my nose in disgust. The fries looked nasty as well. I couldn’t even remember what human food tasted like. The only human thing I consumed was coffee or other liquids, and only when I needed to appear human. “We don’t have a club. Not anymore. After Cobra was murdered, we left. Been bouncin’ around the South for about five years. But we like it here in Shreveport. I give you my word you won’t have any problems from the two of us.”
A greasy fry paused at his lips, Archie said, “How can you be so sure? Your nature makes your kind unpredictable.”
“Because I can prove it.” I looked at Shadow and nodded. I had no idea if he had good intel on the vamp who’d attacked the female employee from the Blue Room, but I was willing to share the information with Archie to gain his trust. I really didn’t want to have to fucking move again. I was getting tired of that shit.
Shadow thrusted a drawing of a man toward Archie.
He wiped his hand on a napkin before picking it up and studying it. “Who the hell is this?” He looked at us both.
“I heard you asking Jesse about the attack. Shadow works there. He also has mad drawing skills. He convinced the girl to tell him what the vamp looked like. This is what they came up with.”
Archie narrowed his eyes at Shadow. “You mean you hypnotized her into telling you?”
Shadow chuckled as he stroked his beard. “Whatever works, man. She won’t remember the conversation. It’s harmless and I got good intel out of it.”
“You motherfuckers are gonna give people brain cancer or something if you keep using that shit on them,” he seethed.
I grinned in amusement. “How do you know that?”
He shoveled a cheese fry into his mouth but said nothing.
Awkward.
“So... do you know who this guy is, or what?” Shadow asked, starting to lose his patience.
Archie stared down at the drawing. “I’m not sure. I’ll ask around.” He shoved the drawing into the inside pocket of his jacket.
“So, are we straight then? You steer clear of us and we’ll steer clear of you?” I asked.
Archie took another gulp of his soda and then set it down. “I was thinking more along the lines of helping each other out.”
That surprised me. The guy was such a hard-headed, vampire-hating prick, but I supposed we had shown some kind of trust factor. A patch on his cut caught my attention. Forming a circle were the letters TOGVIADO. What the hell did that mean?
I looked at him. “I can work with that, as long as we have an agreement to not fuck with each other. We don’t kill humans, but if we have to take out a supe, you stay the fuck out of our way.”
Archie chuckled and threw his napkin onto his plate. “Kill all the supes you want. I don’t give a shit. In fact, call me if you need help.”
“We won’t,” Shadow replied.
I pointed at the patch. “What does that stand for?”
Archie glanced down at his cut, then back at me with a shit-eating grin on his face. “The only good vampire is a dead one.”
Archie had agreed to work with us, but it was painfully clear that he does and would always hate vampires. I couldn’t help what I was any more than he could, and I knew there had to be some changes made.
On a lazy Tuesday night, I wandered out into the living room of the house to see Shadow sitting in front of the television, sipping from a blood bag. Some sort of wrestling show was blaring from the TV.
I looked around at all the modern upgrades we’d done to the small house and was proud of what we’d accomplished. The place went from barely livable, to dare I say, comfortable. But I needed more.
An idea that had been rolling around in my head wouldn’t stop nagging at me, so I decided to run the idea past my best friend, even as I knew I was going to go through with it regardless. Maybe I just needed the validation. Who knew.
When a commercial came on, I sat on the sofa adjacent to the recliner Craig sat in and folded my hands together, resting my elbows on my knees.
“What are your thoughts about starting our own club?”
Shadow sat forward in his chair and muted the television. “That’s fuckin’ weird, bro.”
I was confused. “Why is that weird?”
“Because I’ve been thinkin’ about the same thing. Archie’s cool but I want no part of his geriatric vampire hunting club. We need our own. Like we had in Muskegon, like Cobra created.”
I sagged in relief. “Fuck, I thought you were pissed for a second.”
He chuckled. “Nah, I’m just glad we’re on the same page.”
“No more snake-themed shit, though,” I said.
I pulled up my shirt to show him the huge tattoo of hawk wings I’d gotten on my chest yesterday. “I was thinking Nighthawks. We ride only at night and we watch over the city, like a hawk.”
Shadow jumped up out of the chair to inspect my tattoo. “That’s fuckin’ bad ass, man.” He stood tall and imposing in front of me as I stared up at him.
He stroked his beard with his fingertips and nodded slowly. “Nighthawks. I like it.”
“Yes,” I said, standing up and embracing my friend in a back-pounding man hug.
“Where the fuck did you get that tat though, bro? Because I’m gonna need one ASAP.”
I laughed and told him about an all-night tattoo shop here in Shreveport. He snatched his keys and cell phone from the kitchen table and said, “Let’s go.”
I followed him on my bike to the shop. It only took a couple of hours, but he now had the same hawk wings emblazoned across his left shoulder.
“Bad ass,” I mimicked him, smiling like an idiot at the artwork. It looked amazing. I turned to the tattoo artist. “Thanks, man.” I handed him a wad of cash from my pocket as Shadow and I left the shop talking nonstop about the plans for our club. The Nighthawks MC. We would forever defend those who were too weak or fragile to defend themselves.