Chapter 259

Andrew buried his face in his hands, his arms propped up on his desk. It had been a whirlwind of a few days with no time to decompress. Between the press conferences and the meetings to discuss possible ways to save the werewolf/human trade agreement, Andrew had barely had ten minutes to himself.

Now that he finally did, Andrew could not help feeling the overwhelming weight of the situation on his hands. Only in the privacy of his home office did he allow himself the freedom to immerse himself in the emotions that had been trying to bombard him since the vampires attacked his wedding: despair, fury, remorse. More than anything, he wished that he could turn back time and stop the attack—or at least protect Princess Aurora from harm.

Just as he was letting the remorse sink its hooks into him, Andrew’s phone began to buzz. Reluctantly, Andrew shook off his melancholy and picked up the phone, putting back on his air of authority and power.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Hello, sir,” George Black said on the other end. “I have news.”

Andrew straightened up in his seat.

“What happened?”

“Crescent City had a vampiric intrusion at its Lunar Festival.”

Andrew’s eyes widened.

“What?”

“Yes. Two of the vampires matched the profiles that you sent over. They attached Ms. Blanchard and Mr. Bernard.”

Andrew ran his hand over his face.

“Are they all right?”

“They were each bitten but are recovering in the hospital.”

“Any werewolf fatalities?”

“No. Fortunately, everyone who was attacked is predicted to make a full recovery.”

Andrew let out a slow breath.

“Very good.” He paused in thought. “I’m going to need you to send Samuel, Lance, and Nathaniel back as soon as possible.”

“Yes, sir. May I ask why, sir?”

“I’m getting a special task force together to hunt down these vampires, and I need their unique tracking abilities.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Let me know if there are any further developments.”

“Always, sir.”

As Andrew hung up the call, he debated the next one that he knew he had to make. He did not want to bring in this specialist, but he was the best in his field. That was exactly what gave Andrew pause.

With a sigh, he found the number in his contacts list and pressed it.

“Hello?” a gruff voice answered on the other end.

“Hello, Arthur,” Andrew said, trying to suppress the disdain he felt.

“Your Highness,” Arthur replied, a smirk almost audible in his tone, “I never thought that I would be hearing from you again.”

“Yes, well, it seems that the Werewolf Council and I are in need of your services again.”

“And why would that be?”

“We have a little vampire problem that only you can help us with.” Andrew paused. “Are you in?”

“I’m always up for a little torture.”

The special task force for hunting down the remaining vampires came together quickly. After waiting the two days that it took for Lance, Samuel, and Nathaniel to travel from Crescent City, it only took them a total of three days to track down the vampires, including Louise and Gregory. Then the real work began.

Andrew had sworn, upon first taking the office of Alpha King, that he would never use the sub-basement of his office building. He would be a different kind of Alpha King, he had said. Thus far, he had kept his word.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, though, and these were indeed desperate times. So, Andrew led the special task force and their hooded vampiric captives into the only elevator that got off that far down and pressed the button for the sub-basement, nicknamed “The Dungeon” for all the not-so-legal proceedings that had happened down there over the years.

The elevator doors slid open to reveal a hallway of endless doors. The flickering fluorescent lights set an eerie tone when combined with the unbearable cold of the cranked-up air conditioning. The spotless marble floor and windowless stainless-steel walls disguised the bloody madness that had once gone on behind these doors.

“Any restrictions?” Arthur asked as they exited the elevator and started to place vampires into individual torture chambers.

“Just keep them alive until you get all the information that you possibly can out of them,” Andrew replied, trying to ignore the echoing of their own footsteps as they walked down the long hall.

“And once we have everything that we can get?”

“Eliminate them.”

Andrew said that with such venom that Arthur cracked a crooked-tooth grin.

“With pleasure.”

“One more thing.”

Arthur arched an overgrown brow at Andrew.

“The ones identified as ‘Louise’ and ‘Gregory’…”

“Yes?”

Andrew’s tone grew dark.

“Make them hurt the worst.”

Arthur tilted his head curiously, but his grin never left his face.

“As you wish, Your Highness.”

Andrew waited for hours in his office on the top level of the building, wondering what was going on in the sub-basement below him. He refused to participate in the torture—Moon Goddess forbid—nor could he wait down in The Dungeon, for fear of someone noticing his inexplicable absence. This was something that Andrew would rather not let the paparazzi get a hold of.

He tried to busy himself by reviewing proposals from the Werewolf Council for ways to appease King Frederick and save the trade agreement, most of them involving concessions on the werewolves’ side of the agreement. However, he couldn’t get himself to concentrate long enough to process any of them. He was on his third reading of a proposal suggesting that they send more of their specialist doctors to the human world when he got a text on his cell phone.

It simply read, Breakthrough.

Andrew quickly logged out of his computer and rushed to the elevator while trying to not garner too much attention. He tapped his foot impatiently the entire ride down, wondering why elevators had to be so slow. When the elevator finally came to a stop and the doors slid open, Arthur was calmly waiting on the other side for him.

“Well?” Andrew asked as he stepped off the elevator. “What happened?”

“It took a lot of doing, but the one named Gregory cracked at last,” Arthur said, his tone filled with pride in his work. “Would you like to see him?”

Andrew’s instinctive answer was to say “no”. A more sadistic part of him, though, wanted to see one of the vampires that had attacked Crystal and Princess Aurora suffering. In the end, the sadistic part won out.

“Yes.”

Arthur escorted Andrew to the third room down. Immediately upon entering, Andrew was blinded by artificial sunlight. He could smell boiling flesh and hear the moans of a dying vampire.

“Lights down!” Arthur ordered.

As the lights dimmed, Andrew could make out the bruised and scarred body of the vampire Gregory. A cross had been carved into his chest with a silver knife, garlic hung from his wrists and ankles, and every inch of his body was covered with holy water. A part of Andrew was revolted by the sight, but another part roared in triumph.

Arthur stepped forward and grabbed Gregory by the hair, wrenching his head back.

“Why don’t you tell the Alpha King what you told me, Gregory?” he said. “About who put you up to the attacks?”

Gregory coughed, blood trickling out of the corner of his lips. He glared at first Arthur, then Andrew.

“Bob Barbier,” he spat.