They had been killing together for five years, and they kept getting better and better at it.
They were invincible.
Immortal.
Chapter 11
THAT NIGHT, the two brothers hunted in the town of Mill Valley, in Marin County. The area was beautiful, small mountains teeming with strapping, healthy evergreen and eucalyptus trees. The redwood house was maybe a hundred yards ahead, up a steep, rocky slope that they climbed with ease. A brick walkway led to an entryway with double wooden doors.
“We have to go away for a while.” William spoke to Michael without turning around. “We have a mission from the Sire. San Francisco was just the start.”
“That’s excellent,” Michael said, and he smiled. “I enjoyed what went down there very much. Who are these people, the ones in the big fancy house up there?”
William shrugged. “Just prey. They’re nobody.”
Michael pouted. “Why won’t you tell me who they are?”
“The Sire said not to talk, and not to bring the cat.”
Michael asked no further questions. His obedience to the Sire was complete.
The Sire told you how to think, feel, and act.
The Sire was accountable to no one, to no other authority.
The Sire despised the straight world, as did they.
This definitely looked like the “straight world” up ahead. The large house had all the trappings: gardens tended and watered daily, a small pond filled with koi, several layers of terraces leading up to a large house with more than a dozen rooms—for just two people. How obnoxious could anyone be?
William walked right in the front door, and Michael followed. The foyer had twenty-foot ceilings, a ridiculous crystal chandelier, a spiral staircase to heaven.
They found the couple in the kitchen, making a late meal, both of them sharing the preparations like the goody-goodies that they were.
“Yuppies at play,” William said, and smiled.
“Whoa!” the male said, and threw up both of his hands. He was close to six-four and well built. He was working like kitchen help at the vegetable sink.
“What the hell do you guys think you’re doing? Let’s take it outside.”
“You’re the troublemaking lawyer,” William said, and pointed at the female. She was early thirties, short blond hair, high cheekbones, slender, with small breasts. “We came for supper.”
“I’m a lawyer too,” the domineering male said. “I don’t think you two were invited. I’m sure of it. Get out! You hear me? Hey, you assholes, hit the road.”
“You threatened the Sire.” William continued to talk to the female. “So he sent us here.”
“Arthur, I’m going to call the police,” the woman finally said. She was upset now, the nubs of her breasts rising and falling against her shirt. She had a small cell phone in her hand, and William wondered if she had pulled it out of her ass. The thought made him smile.
He was on her in an instant, and Michael took down the husband almost as easily. The brothers were incredibly fast and strong, and they knew it.
They growled loudly, but that was only a scare tactic.
“We have money in the house. My God, don’t hurt us,” the male shrieked loudly, almost like a woman.
“We’re not after your obscene money—we have no use for it. And we’re not serial killers or anything common like that,” William told them.
He bit down into the struggling woman’s luscious pink neck—and she stopped fighting. Just like that, she was his. She gazed into his eyes and she swooned. A tear ran down her cheek.
William didn’t look up again until he had fed. “We’re vampires,” he finally whispered to the murdered couple.