The Children of Arnborg: the Prophecy

by Rene Barry

Chapter 1

part 1 of 2

Boston District Attorney Stuart Morrow has enjoyed an unholy alliance with a group of vampires for years, but when his prosecution of a high-profile defendant goes awry, he begins to understand that it will take more than the legal system to put things right.

One night on a Boston highway, the company of a seductive vampire named Emma will plunge him deeper into the dangers of their world than he could have ever imagined and into a battle for his own survival.

Judge Grant’s footfall echoed loudly under the cold concrete ceiling of the parking lot. He drew heavily on his inhaler and hugged the file tucked under his jacket even tighter out of habit. His car alarm chirped, and the door knobs popped up inviting him to come in, but he flung the file and the inhaler into the back seat, gasping for breath. “I should burn the both of you!” he cursed, looking at the items in disgust.

“Now what good would that do?” A voice landed on him.

He spun around.

A thick German accent mocked. “You need one to stay alive, and... well... you need the other to stay alive as well, when you think about it,”

“Emma!” Judge Grant spat. “God! What the hell!” He was becoming all too familiar with the beads of sweat running down his face. For years he had sat quietly at the helm of a cold, air-conditioned courtroom patiently listening to the evil deeds, evil but smartly executed deeds, misguided deeds and just plain asinine deeds of countless criminals. None had rattled him as much as the presence of the woman standing in front of him now.

“We talked about that, Thomas, the melodrama?” Emma chided. “It’s completely unnecessary. You really should get help for that.”

“What do you want?” He sighed wearily and obviously annoyed.

Emma was clearly relishing the effect she was having on Grant and, out of habit, stood for a while smiling wryly at him, her sleek, sultry frame anchored against one of the pillars of the parking lot. She exhaled after a few moments, satisfied that she had ruffled him sufficiently for the night. “Well, for one, I’d like to know what you plan to do about the attempted murder of our Keeper? Joshua keeps her alive at The Coven, but that murderous bitch, Woolsey, must be taken care of.”

“Emma, what exactly do you want me—?”

“I told you, Thomas, that I wanted this trial over and done with by tomorrow. From the look of things,” she bit into her thumb, savoring the blood, “that’s not going to happen. That leaves me very troubled, Thomas. That leaves us very troubled.”

“Look, I can’t just... I can’t...” he stammered. “Stuart’s doing what he can. I trust him.”

“I don’t believe Stuart was the answer to the question I asked!” Emma snapped.

He stiffened and glanced at the file. “You know, this is really sick, making me cart this thing around all day! Why are you torturing me like this!”

“Relax, Thomas. It’s just for fun. You make good on your promise...” she rubbed her neck, inspecting his, the lights of the parking lot glistening in her perfectly tapered nails, “I won’t have to use that to make good on mine. Now would I?” She eyed the file, the sinister look in her eyes unnerving Grant so much that it seemed he might have suffered a heart attack right then and there. “In the meantime, what do you care? I did give it to you for safekeeping, didn’t I?” she teased. With lightning speed she was behind him, drawing in his scent. “Take care of our business, Thomas. Take care of it now!”

She was gone before his next heartbeat. He scoped the parking lot on instinct. “Dammit!” he sighed. It was empty. For once, he had hoped that someone else might have been there.

* * *

“Hey Matt! Matt! Hold up!”

Matthew Raines turned around, briefcase in hand, his exasperation bordering on full-blown anger at the moment. “What is it now, Stuart?”

“Drop your client, Matt.” Stuart’s face was deathly serious. “Goddammit, drop your client before it’s too late!” he pleaded.

Raines peered at the D.A, his less-than-five-seconds-ago exasperation bordering on full-blown anger turning now to pity. “Stuart, what’s going on? Things okay, buddy? I mean really, what? What, is there someone new in your life? They giving you a hard time?”

“You listening to me?” Stuart retorted. “Your client is in over her head this time, Matt. Believe me.”

“Look, Stuart, I get it. Woolsey’s got a pretty... sordid history, but that’s no reason—”

“Sordid? Sordid? That’s what you call it? Matt, your client’s an admitted occult-obsessed bounty hunter with an arsenal the size of Texas!”

“Be that as it may,” Raines interjected with the most reasonable voice he could find, “that’s no reason to try to pin this on her. That’s no reason to ask me to back away. You want to be my friend, let me do my freaking job!” he yelled, walking away from Stuart, but the D.A grabbed his elbow, shoving him against the wall. “Stuart, what the hell?”

“I’m not going to tell you again,” Stuart hissed into his ear, “Rebecca Morde is the human Keeper of The Coven. She shoots up with vampire blood to protect those sons of bitches. The woman Karen Woolsey thinks she killed is still alive. Now, you’ve only got so much time before they get rid of you, win or lose! They kill Woolsey while she’s in prison and on trial, it’ll bring too much damned attention. They kill her, they risk exposing themselves more than if she was free. But, either way, you win this,” he drew closer to Raines, “you win this case and Woolsey goes free, trust me, she’s dead and you’re dead faster than you can say ‘acquittal’!”

Raines stared at Stuart dumbfounded.

“Matt? Matt, you listening to me? Let Woolsey take the insanity plea. I’ll do that for you, buddy. I promise. Just say the word, and this whole thing’s over.”

Raines still said nothing.

“Trust me. She’s better off spending the rest of her life in an asylum than free and dead!” Stuart pushed. “But the quicker you get her off your hands, the better!”

Raines stood back, his eyes blank for a moment. “W-wait a minute,” he stammered. “You actually believe the victim is still alive? I mean, don’t get me wrong. I don’t buy half the crap you’ve been carrying on with. Hell, maybe you’re trying to live out some Fox Mulder fantasy, I don’t know! But you actually believe Rebecca Morde’s still alive?”

Stuart swallowed hard. He drew back. “Look, Matt...” he fumbled, trying to explain.

“Wow!” Raines gasped, rubbing his forehead. “You brought a case against my client for murder — murder — trying to peddle this crap about freaking vampires behind the jury’s back! You don’t even have a damned body! All you’ve got is a missing woman—”

“Woolsey’s got a more-than-public violent history! There was sufficient reason to believe—”

“Ah, shut up! Shut up, Morrow! The only reason I didn’t make a public filing to have your ass removed is because I didn’t want to see them put you away in a friggin’ straight jacket!” Raines panted, enraged. “My client’s been going through hell. Hell! And all this time it’s because I put your ass first! To protect you! And now you’re telling me you don’t think the victim’s dead!” His voice echoed out into the foyer of the courthouse. “God, you’ve really lost it!” Raines chuckled madly. “You’ve lost it! I can’t even... I can’t... God!”

Stuart sighed in frustration. “You want to try this case? You think you know something? Let me give you some advice. You’re a brilliant lawyer. I get that. But for once in your life, Matt, stop snorting the damn pages of the legal books and think with your head!” He stormed off.

“You know it’s over, Stuart!” Raines called out behind him. “This time tomorrow my client’s home free. You know it’s over!”

* * *

Proceed to part 2...