Bronson opened his eyes slowly. He saw the ceiling and heard water running. He tried to sit up but only succeeded in getting one elbow behind him before he collapsed back onto the bed. He felt so weak he couldn’t even keep his eyes open.
“What happened?” His voice didn’t sound at all like his own.
“Look who’s awake.”
Bronson was able to crack one eye open to see Woody perched over him.
“He’s awake?” Sarge quickly came into view, a worried look on his face, his brows creased in the middle. “How do you feel, babe?”
“I…I’m so tired.” Bronson tried to sit up again and failed.
“You lie still, my young friend,” Woody said, placing a hand on Bronson’s shoulder to keep him still. “You have lost a lot of blood.”
“What happened?” Bronson closed his eyes, unable to hold them open any longer.
“Why don’t you get some rest, and we can talk later,” Sarge suggested.
Bronson didn’t need any more persuasion than that. He fell into a deep sleep.
* * * * *
“My Queen, it is Lord Mathghamhain,” a young, human servant girl spoke as she handed a phone to Hatshepsut.
“Mathghamhain, what is it?” Hatshepsut knew the only reason for his calling was with news or Committee business that needed immediate attention.
“We have a location for Léonide,” he answered with an edge to his voice. “He is in San Francisco with Fidencia Santos.”
“Do you have an exact location for him there?” she asked quietly.
“I will soon. I have already put in a request for maximum security.”
“Very good, my friend,” Hatshepsut replied, gazing down at the floor as she thought. “How much manpower do we have there currently?”
“We have but three in the city currently, and should have ten in place within the hour. Another ten the following day, if he is not apprehended by tomorrow.”
“Have you already alerted the rest of the North American contingent?”
“Yes.”
“Very good,” she said. “I will make arrangements to go back to Washington, D.C. Have them brought there once they are captured.”
“Washington? Is that not risky, Hatshepsut? Will the rest of The Committee not be upset by that move?”
“Mathghamhain, I think this is but the beginning.” She said nothing of her gut feeling that there was someone on The Committee who was betraying them. This would give her a head start in trying to find out whom.
“Would you like for me to join you there?” he asked.
She made up her mind quickly and decided to go with her instincts. She could trust her old friend. “Yes, I think that might be a good idea, but keep our arrival there a secret. I will alert the other members and call a mandatory meeting there in a few days’ time.”
“As you wish,” he said.
“For now, I think it best, my friend.” She smiled. Hatshepsut hadn’t lived this long without learning to follow her instincts, and her instincts now told her that her friend had not betrayed them.
“Then I will meet you there,” Mathghamhain said. “Be , my Queen.”
Hatshepsut laughed softly. “Thank you for your concern, Mathghamhain, but I think that I shall be fine. Matter of fact, I will stop and pick you up. We can talk more during the trip.”
“I would very much enjoy that, Hatshepsut,” Mathghamhain said, his smile almost audible to the Queen’s ears.
* * * * *
Woody looked down on the sleeping man. He knew Bronson might not be out of the woods just yet.
“Do you think he is going to be all right?” Sarge whispered next to him.
“I do not know for sure, but I think so,” Woody whispered back. “I hope so, at least. I have called someone who should be here at any moment. They will come and give him a blood transfusion.”
“Thank you, Woody.” Sarge breathed a sigh of relief. “What do we do about him?” Sarge scowled at the Marine vampire, Burrows, that they had tied up in the corner.
Woody exhaled. “He will be jailed, and then he will have a trial before the judicial court that is appointed by The Committee.”
“What happens if he is found guilty?” Sarge asked.
Woody turned to look Sarge directly in the eyes. “If he is found guilty, he will be put to death or at the very least entombed.”
“Entombed?” Sarge shook his head. “I’m not sure what that entails exactly, but I have a feeling that it isn’t good.”
“To be entombed is where the guilty are put into a stone cell, which is then bricked up,” Woody explained.
“For how long?” Sarge appeared horrified at the thought. “Fuck, if you put me somewhere dark for any length of time, that would be enough to drive me mad.”
“The minimum sentence ranges from a decade to two-hundred-fifty years.” Woody looked at the new vampire that was tied up on the floor, Burrow’s face distorted with hate. “This is his first offense, but judging by the severity of it, I would be willing to bet he will get the maximum.”
“Christ.” Sarge rubbed his face.
Woody put his hand on Sarge’s shoulder. “David, this was premeditated. He admitted as much to you.”
“Fuck.” Sarge began pacing. He turned to Sergeant William Burrows and stared down at him. “What the fuck did you think you were going to accomplish, Billy?”
“He was taking you away from me.” Burrows spat towards Bronson, who was out of it on the bed. “He came between us.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Sarge growled at the Marine. “There never was an ‘us’. Can’t you get that through your fat head? There never was nor would there ever be an ‘us’.”
“But there was,” Burrows whined.
Sarge stood over the man. “We fucked once, Billy, that was all. It was a one-time thing a long time ago.”
“You love me, you just don’t know it yet,” Burrows pleaded.
“No, Billy, I don’t love you.” Sarge sounded exasperated. “Hell, Billy, I don’t even like you that much. You’re a pain in the ass!”
There was a soft knock on the door to Bronson’s apartment, interrupting Sarge’s tirade. Woody moved quietly to answer it.
“This way,” he whispered to the six Marines from Sarge’s and Burrows’ platoon.
Johnson looked at Bronson on the bed, and then looked at Burrows sitting on the floor tied up with electrical wiring. The air was heavy with the smell of blood.
“Corporal Johnson, please take Sergeant Burrows into custody,” Sarge said formally. “He is to be charged with the attempted murder and rape of a protected human.”
“What?” Johnson looked surprised as he looked from Burrows to the unconscious Bronson on the bed.
“You heard me,” Sarge growled, rubbing his face with his large hands.
Johnson looked at Woody for confirmation. Woody nodded his head. Johnson motioned for the other men to come in and take Burrows. They all scowled. Woody could only guess at how they felt, having to take one of their own into custody.
Burrows looked at Sarge, his previous expression changing from pleading to venomous hate. “I gave up my life for you, you bastard.”
Sarge shook his head at the vampire. “I never asked that of you, Billy, and you know that.” His voice was soft.
“You’ll regret this,” Burrows yelled as he was hauled from the room. Bronson murmured in his sleep, turning over onto his side.
Woody followed them out, leaving Sarge with Bronson. When he returned, he stood in the doorway, watching Sarge pick up the sleeping naked man and place him in the center of the bed, tucking the covers around him. “Burrows has gone,” Woody informed Sarge. “David, there was no way you could have prevented this. There was no way you could have known.”
“I didn’t keep him safe, Woody,” Sarge whispered, his finger tracing the cheek of the sleeping Bronson.
“You won’t be able to watch him every minute.”
“I know…” Sarge’s voice trailed off.
A minute later there was another soft knocking on the door of the apartment. Woody went to answer it. He then showed in a woman dressed as a nurse, carrying a small suitcase with her.
Woody quickly filled her in on what had happened. Without a word, the nurse went to work setting up an IV with several bags of blood ready to be infused into the sleeping Bronson.
* * * * *
Hatshepsut boarded the private jet, having arranged to stop in London to pick up Mathghamhain. She had already cautioned him to keep this as quiet as possible. He wasn’t even to alert the other members of The Committee. She didn’t like keeping this from them, but something kept telling her this needed to be kept quiet for now.
If I could get to Léonide, get him alone, I know I would be able to find out who was behind all of this. She felt a pang of guilt, knowing it would devastate her poor friend Vincent, but he knew this was coming. There was nothing she could do or say to help Léonide—not that she would. He needed to be put down, or at the very least, locked away for a very long time.
* * * * *
Bronson woke up and stretched, feeling extremely weak. He slid to the side of the bed, needing to get to the bathroom to pee. His head swam as he tried to stand, causing him to fall back onto the bed, knocking the clock radio off the night stand as he tried to steady himself.
“Whoa there, babe.” Sarge came charging into the room. “What are you doing?”
“I…I was trying to get to the bathroom,” Bronson said, his head still dizzy.
“Let me help,” Sarge said as he picked Bronson up, supporting him by the shoulders.
“What the fuck happened?” he asked as he stumbled toward the bathroom.
“I’ll explain it all in a bit,” Sarge said as he helped Bronson stand in front of the toilet. “First let’s get you back into bed.”
“I don’t want to go back to fucking bed.” Bronson scowled while urinating into the water.
“Okay, how about the couch then?” Sarge suggested as he flushed the toilet.
“Whatever,” Bronson agreed wearily. He was already worn out from the short trip.
Sarge all but carried him into the living room, where Woody was standing.
“How are you feeling?” Woody wore a look of concern on his face.
“I feel like someone just ran over me with a truck,” Bronson answered grimly. “Why am I so sore?” Sarge helped him shuffle across the living room.
“Marcus came by and brought you some soup,” Woody said. He went into the kitchen.
Sarge helped Bronson to the sofa and then passed him a mirror.
Bronson got a look at himself for the first time. “What the fuck!” He reached up to his puffy black eyes, swollen nose and bruised cheeks.
“Calm down, Bronson,” Sarge urged. “Let’s get you settled in, and I’ll tell you everything.” He helped Bronson to stretch out on the sofa, his legs across most of it. He welcomed the warm blanket that Sarge spread out over him.
“Dinner is served,” Woody announced as he carried a tray in and set it on the coffee table.
“What is it?” Bronson’s stomach growled as he smelled the food.
“Borscht.” Woody smiled as he put the tray on Bronson’s lap.
“Smells great,” Bronson said as he picked up the spoon. “So, which one of you is going to tell me what the fuck happened?”
Woody sat in the chair, while Sarge sat down close to Bronson’s feet.
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Sarge laid his hand on Bronson’s knee.
Bronson took several slurps of the beet soup, then a bite of the dark bread before answering. “I was walking up to the apartment…” He took another bite of soup as he thought. “Oh yeah, Burrows was standing next to the door.” Bronson dropped the spoon as things came rushing back. “He raped me!”
Woody looked sadly at Bronson and then at Sarge.
“He fucking tried to kill me.” Bronson gaped at Sarge. “He thinks I came between you and him.” He studied Sarge’s face closely. “Did I?”
“There was never anything between Billy and me,” Sarge said bitterly. “We had a one-time thing, years ago in Iraq, but it was nothing more than that.”
“That’s not what he thinks,” Bronson said, scowling at Sarge.
“I swear, it was only the one time,” Sarge said, picking up Bronson’s hand.
“I believe you.” Bronson gripped Sarge’s hand in his. “Where is he?”
Woody leaned forward in the chair. “He has been arrested and will stand trial for attempted murder and rape by The Committee’s judicial court.” Woody looked at the floor and then back to Bronson. “You are what we consider ‘a protected mortal’.” Woody did the air quotes with his fingers. “What that means is he could face death.”
“Oh,” Bronson said flatly, looking at the bowl of soup in front of him. Suddenly he’d lost his appetite. “I don’t want that for Burrows.”
“I am afraid that is not up to you to decide, Bronson. What he did was his own fault and no one else’s. He knew the law.”
Bronson looked up at the two vampires, “Do I need to worry about AIDS?”
Woody smiled warmly at Bronson. “No, my friend, that is something you never have to worry about with a vampire. Technically, we are dead, so living diseases are not an issue.”
Bronson nodded. “That’s what I thought, but I just wanted to be sure.” He picked up the spoon and played with the soup.
“Bronson, please eat,” Sarge urged. “You need to eat to get your strength back.”
“This is why I thought of the Borscht,” Woody added. “It is full of iron and other nutrients to help replenish the blood loss. Marcus now eats it on a regular basis.”
“I’m not very hungry now,” Bronson said sadly. “I hate this. I hate that I’m the cause of someone losing their life.”
“Oh babe, it isn’t your fault what Burrows did.” Sarge rubbed Bronson’s leg through the blanket. “He just went nuts. He’s crazy.”
“Still…” Bronson said.
Woody’s cell phone rang, bringing a halt to the discussion.
“Hello,” he answered. He paused for a moment. “Yes, Hatshepsut, I understand.” Woody listened to the other side of the conversation. “Then we shall see you tomorrow.” He looked to the other men in the room as he spoke. “Yes, have a pleasant journey.” He ended the call.
“Hatshepsut will be here tomorrow,” he informed the two men.