Page 32 of Good Vampires Go to Heaven

“Should we increase the size of the command council?” Hector asked.

“Not at the present time. Sometimes less is better.” Jasper had enough on his plate without screening candidates for the council.

“How long do we have?” the usually quiet Ganbold asked.

“One month.” Jasper expected protests at that short period, but no one spoke up. They all realized the importance of acting swiftly. “One more thing. If possible, I want Zebulan and the seven VIK brothers delivered to me alive.”

“As you wish, master,” his commanders said then.

He stretched his arms out over them, prayer-like, and said, “May evil prevail!”

Chapter 7

It would be an unholy war . . .

Vikar and his six brothers waited anxiously for the arrival of Michael. After the initial greetings and questions, they’d lapsed into silence. Probably praying. He knew he was.

The order to assemble had come at three a.m. with sharp words that awakened him from a restless sleep. There was no doubt in his mind that it had been Michael, and the archangel was angry.

It had been more than four days since Regina had disappeared, and, for his sins, Vikar had hoped to get her back on his own before anyone else needed to find out. His infernal pride!

He had to admit to not knowing where Regina was, precisely, or whether she’d managed to help Zeb or her pitiful self to escape, which was highly unlikely. Oh, Vikar had led a search party after her, as soon as he’d discovered her disappearance. He’d even gone so far as the frozen tundra where Jasper supposedly had a castle named Horror, one of many Lucipire headquarters with equally morbid names, such as Torment, Desolation, Anguish, Terror, and Gloom. He’d been unable to breach the shield that surrounded the Horror perimeter from miles around. He hadn’t even been able to get a view of the castle.

Where was Regina? Had she somehow managed to get inside when no vangel ever had? Was she still inside? If so, in what capacity? Had she already been turned into a Lucipire? It would serve her right. No, it would not! No one deserved that.

Where was Zeb? Was he inside Horror? In what condition?

What should Vikar do? What could he do?

Acting as a double agent, Zeb had been their pipeline into Lucipire doings until his activities were discovered a year ago. There had been an unholy silence since then. Hard to imagine the torture Zeb was undergoing, or rather, he could imagine, and the possibilities were horrifying. Vikar himself had been captured by Jasper at one time, and he’d been held only a few days before his rescue. He would never forget the vile torture. Never!

If Regina and Zeb weren’t concern enough, during the past twenty-four hours, there had been rumblings of murders and atrocities around the world, not all of them attributable to terrorism. A bomb had been dropped on St. Peter’s Square in Rome, just missing the Pope who hadn’t yet come outside for a morning blessing, but killing hundreds. Mass beheadings in Syria. A satanic cult in Colorado gaining publicity with its lurid, orgy-like activities that supposedly involved baby sacrifices. Cathedrals and synagogues being graffitied with what appeared to be blood. Rioting and looting in Chicago, Los Angeles, and Detroit.

The news media was going wild speculating on the cause of all these simultaneous activities. Of course, the press wanted to blame terrorists for everything. It was the easy answer.

But was there a connection? Who could be responsible?

Vikar had a suspicion. He knew terrorists, at least some of them, had another evil entity pulling their strings. It all came back to Satan.

Just then, there was a loud sound outside, like the flapping of wings. Lots of wings. Through the myriad leaded windows of the formal salon where Vikar and his brothers had assembled, Vikar could see a cloud of darkness pass overhead as the morning sun was shielded by all those feathery wingspans. Michael must have brought a legion of angels with him.

Their celestial mentor wasted no time as he entered through the wide, double front door, which had been left open, and turned into the large room. Only Vikar and his brothers were assembled. All the other vangels in residence and the humans attached to some of them stayed out of sight, but they would come forth if called.

Michael wore angelic garb today. A white, long-sleeved robe was adorned only with a twisted rope belt and a crucifix on a heavy gold chain. The massive wings were tucked in now at his back, but the glow of a subtle halo outlined his entire body.

Vikar and his brothers had been seated in a semicircle, but they all arose and bowed before Michael. He waved a hand for them to sit again. Vikar offered Michael a chair, one which he’d had specially built to accommodate angelic wings.

Michael chose to stand.

Not a good sign.

“What hast thou done?” he asked Vikar, without any preamble.

Me? What, exactly, is he referring to? Regina? Zeb? Or something else?

Not giving Vikar a chance to respond, he added, “Dost have any idea what thou hast unleashed, Viking?”

Uh, no.