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The old water pumping station was a large concave enclosure which had once contained many thousands of gallons of water. It was dry now, empty with an incredible echo. Maddox, Lorien, and Will walked into the very center of it through a bunker style entrance.
“This feels like a trap,” Will muttered.
“Anything or anyone who tries to trap us is going to discover that they're the ones trapped with us,” Lorien replied.
Above them, stairs wound around to a big circular glass window at the very top. Light was flowing in from that point, moonlight casting a golden shadow across the floor, right where they ended up standing.
“Where is everybody? I thought this was going to be some kind of mass meeting?” Will voiced another valid concern. It was not Maddox who answered. Nor was it Lorien.
“MADDOX!” A voice rang out through the echoing emptiness. A figure appeared on the stairwell. A short, slight, unimpressive figure with dwindling hair slicked over to the side. Maddox could see that all the way at the relatively great distance. It was Chauvelin. And it was a trap.
“What are you doing, boy? Wasting my time will not go well for you.” Maddox sighed, thoroughly annoyed. He did not have time for this.
“I’m not here to waste your time. I’m here to kill you.”
“From all the way over there? Come down here, boy. Face me if you wish.”
Chauvelin did not move.
“You killed me,” Chauvelin pointed at Will. “You buried me alive,” he pointed at Lorien. “And you killed the kings of New York,” he jabbed an accusing finger in Maddox’s direction, which was very unfair but also didn’t much matter anymore. It was the truth as commonly accepted, and that meant the actual truth was a complete irrelevance. “I am here to avenge all those cruelties and crimes, and I have the support of the populace to do it.”
“I don’t think the vampires of New York are going to unite behind a fledgling who only very narrowly avoided becoming a feral. You are weeks old, Chauvelin. You have no history. You have no legacy. You barely know how to use those fangs; I am sure they keep slipping out when you least expect it.”
“I studied at the feet of the kings. I was their prince,” Chauvelin spat. “And I am ready to face you now.”
Maddox laughed. It was ridiculous. “Who turned you? Who fed you? Who are you being puppeted by now?”
“Someone who noticed when you put my breathing body in the ground.”
“Someone who doesn't have the nerve to show his or her face now.”
“Someone who trusts me to handle a little garbage disposal. That's what the three of you are. That’s what you’ve always been, Maddox, you human fucker. You mate with men because no vampire worth his salt will have you, and no female will touch your cursed cock.”
Maddox laughed. “You sound a little hungry, boy. Is that what you need? Cock? Would fucking you the first time you came to my house have saved all this trouble?”
“No, Maddox. You can’t corrupt the just with sex. Your criminal consorts are already fallen.”
“You do know you’re a vampire now, right?” Lorien interrupted. "There is no being just anymore. You’re a filthy undead waste of decay just like the rest of us. You’re a fucking joke.” He punctuated the words with mocking laughter.
It died on his lips as the shadows surrounding the circular point of light rolled back at a gesture from Chauvelin to reveal several hundred vampires, none of them more than middle-aged, but still quite astonishing and intimidating in numbers. Chauvelin had not only not come alone, he had come in force.
“Where are your makers?” Maddox asked the question.
“Our makers don’t want any part of this,” Chauvelin said.
“Sounds like you," Lorien pointed out.
Maddox appreciated the irony, but it was not the time for it.
“Revolutions are the actions of the young and the brave,” Chauvelin said. “We stand against your murderous tyranny, Lord Maddox.”
“I’m not a Lord.”
“But you are a tyrant and a murderer.”
“I am trying so desperately hard not to be either of those things, but you make both terribly attractive,” Maddox deadpanned. There was a giggle from the crowd. They were all so young, so misguided, so lost. So in need of real leadership.
“It’s you,” Lorien said to Maddox. “It has to be you. Take the fucking crown. Take charge.”
