Valmonts Trinity

Chapter One - part two

“Brendan is dead, sir.”

“Dead.” Christiansen squeezed the receiver, knuckles turning white. This wasn’t supposed to f*****g happen. Now was no time to panic. He cleared his throat and forced his gaze past the railing of his yacht to the sparkling blue Mediterranean. “Did I hear you correctly, Durant?”

A shaky breath whispered through the other end of the line. “Yes, sir. Brendan is dead. Everything was going according to plan. The priestess b***h bit Lascaux and brought him back, but…um…that’s when it went bad.”

“This isn’t what I wanted to hear, Durant.”

One of Christiansen’s companions rose from her lounge chair. Her sleek body in its string bikini glowed in the sun. She picked up her martini and sipped it as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

He sneered at her and turned away, pacing the deck. The rugged hills of Santorini against the blue sky faded to the background in the wake of this failure. “Go on.”

“Well, sir, once Lascaux was immortal again, we weren’t able to contain him. Before Brendan could even raise his stake, Lascaux killed almost all of us.”

A frustrated growl ripped from Christiansen’s throat. “Goddammit. You’re a bunch of incompetent assholes.” Brendan had come from a long lineage of Soldiers. They’d trained for centuries, preparing to wipe out  every last vampire on the planet. Not the pissant occasional slaying such as immortals engaged in. The men and women who became Soldiers believed the mission was one of moral integrity. Vampires were wastrels, pleasure seekers, and parasites on the back of humanity.

What those idiots didn’t realize was that once you rid the world of vampires, you had their wealth. Vampires were beings who’d had centuries to amass real estate, jewels, stocks, priceless art. f**k the planet. Christiansen wanted the goods.

They were going to have to switch plans.

He growled. “I’ve heard enough. We have people everywhere. Get them ready and switch to the next plan. I’m calling the shots now. No middleman. Brendan got what he deserved.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll get things in motion immediately.”

“You’d better. We must strike before they’ve had a chance to collect themselves.” Christiansen hung up the phone and chuckled, his mood once again light. This plan couldn’t fail because he’d devised it himself. With Brendan out of the way, he actually had a chance of getting this right. I, too, am the product of centuries devoted to the eradication of vampires. As he sipped his cocktail, the scenery beyond the yacht once again came into his view. This time, they wouldn’t f**k up and he’d reap the fruits of his ancestors’ toils.

The alcohol slid in a burning trail down Christiansen’s throat. He swallowed and called for another. There was no room for failure this time. He had the ultimate plan.

The best way to destroy a people was to have them eat themselves from the inside out.