Serpent's Rise (The Vigilantes Book 2) Read online

  Contents

  Title Page-1

  Copyright-1

  Dedication

  Winter-1962

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Acknowledgements

  Serpent’s Rise

  By

  Trish Heinrich

  Published by Beautiful Fire

  Edited by Maria D’Marco & Dan Heinrich

  Copyright © 2017 Trish Heinrich

  All Rights Reserved World Wide

  ISBN13: 978-0-9990669-2-8

  ISBN-13:

  For Aunt Sooz,

  Who loved books.

  Winter-1962

  CHAPTER ONE

  The cafe was crowded in the middle of the day, French men and women meeting for lunch and coffee. Some for business, some for pleasure. Bright winter sunshine streams in through the large windows that look out onto the cobblestone streets. The occasional car or Vespa zooms past, muting the soft strains of Mozart that float through the air.

  Victoria sat erect like a dancer, ankles delicately crossed and swept to the side, a hint of a smile gracing her lips, and any trace of jetlag deftly covered with a dusting of powder on her porcelain skin. The coffee cup clinks as she sets it on the pink and white saucer, and the croissant in front of her looks barely touched.

  The man across from her, his bald head shining with sweat and bulbous green eyes focused on the quickly disappearing meal in front of him, seems oblivious of Victoria’s one-eyed, broad-shouldered body guard, Mr. Graves, sitting at the table behind him.

  Not that I need him. The strength serum is continuing to work on my body. Still, I do like the looks on people’s faces as we pass.

  When the man does look up from his meal, Victoria gives him an understanding smile, as if to encourage him to please keep shoveling food into his mouth. In reality, she wants to throw the plate across the gilded room and get down to business.

  Instead, she signals a waiter in a crisp white coat for another coffee and takes a dainty bite of her croissant.

  At last, the man takes the napkin from his shirt collar and wipes his greasy lips. He asks the waiter for a coffee in French, with a heavy German accent.

  Victoria politely waits for the man to take the first sip from his cup before placing her long hand on his wrist.

  “I am so happy you were able to meet with me, Fritz,” she said in perfect German.

  Fritz waved his hand. “Please, Mauschen, I would not have been able to forgive myself if I missed a chance to see Herr Muller’s brilliant daughter.”

  Victoria’s smile becomes just a little tighter at the mention of her father. “No one has called me Mauschen since…well, before the war.”

  Fritz nodded, a sad look in his eyes. “Ah, yes…so much lost. If not for my wife’s family, we would have died in Germany. I don’t know how you survived, my dear. But I am so glad you did. And looking so beautiful! Ah, but your mother was a beauty, so really, it is no surprise!”

  She dipped her head appropriately in acceptance of his compliment.

  Yes, I remember how you looked at my mother, Fritz. And the night you tried to rape her. If you weren’t brilliant, I’d have arranged for you to be found floating in the Seine long ago.

  “I am ashamed to admit,” Victoria said. “That I did not contact you purely for reminiscing.”

  “Oh?” he asked, taking a gulp of his coffee.

  Victoria pulled a slip of paper from her dove-colored hand bag and slipped it over to him.

  The moment Fritz turned it over, he became pale. When he looked at Victoria, his already huge eyes looked as if they would fall out of his doughy face.

  “You work for—”

  “No,” Victoria said, not bothering to wait for him to finish. “I work for no one in the Coalition.”

  She let that sink in. His only exposure to anyone in the organization she had helped create had been a male.

  Knowing that the Powered Problem, as they called it, would demand more than her wisdom and courage to battle, she had reached out to like-minded men in different parts of the world. One had already begun creating the very network she had envisioned. It had been no trouble convincing the leaders of the Russian Coalition and the Japanese Coalition that they needed her, but the leader of the Metro City Coalition had taken a bit more convincing.

  Just before the Park Side Massacre, he had relented and Victoria had been welcomed as the fourth leader. The fact that her every move was scrutinized tenfold, compared to the others, was nothing new to her. In fact, it had only made her more determined and creative. Once the Russian and Japanese leaders saw what her scientific acumen could yield, they found a way to ignore her gender.

  Only one remained judgmental, seeking any reason to oust her.

  And that’s why I need you, my porcine friend.

  “I work for…well, you know who I work for, obviously,” Fritz said, his fingers playing with his cuffs. “I was to understand that I would only speak with him.”

  Victoria nodded. “Yes, usually that is the case. But of late, I find myself in need of a scientist with your skill in gene abnormalities and the practical application of therapies to reverse those abnormalities.”

  “Reverse? I was led to believe that the Coalition wanted to create such abnormalities, to strengthen them in individuals with a disposition toward the mutations.”

  Victoria’s jaw clenching was the only proof that her blood had just started to boil.

  So, that’s what he is doing with you. Traitor!

  She nodded, as if already knowing that. “But we need a way to control rogue elements, do we not? And that is what I am tasked with. I have come up against a problem with my research and, as much as it grates on me to admit it, I have need of a man with your skills.”

  Fritz shook his head. “I’m already stretched thin, there’s no way I can do both.”

  “Of course not! What kind of taskmaster do you think I am? No, my dear, old, lecherous friend. You will pack a bag after we are finished here and take the next plane to America, Jet City, to be specific. Once there you will be safely ensconced in my state of the art lab, where you will be able to do the work I am asking of you.”

  As if on cue, the body guard rose from his table and handed Victoria a large manila envelope, which she passed to Fritz.

  “All that you need is in there.”

  “Victoria…” he began.

  “Just look inside, and then you can give me your answer.”

  Fritz did as he was told, sifting through various papers until his fingers came upon two photographs. He lifted them from the envelope, his hand shaking.

  “My daughter…” he said.

  “Such a beauty. She is a cellist, yes? I understand she is quite a talent.”

  “You would kill her just to have me?”

  “Kill?” Victoria said, her voice filled with incredulity even though there was
a glint in her eyes and smile on her lips. “No, of course not. Death is so…well, it can be a release, if life is awful enough. Now, there’s a thought. Do you think she’d want to die if her hands were somehow ruined in a terrible accident? If her body was broken somehow? Do you think that would be enough to make someone crave death?”

  He shoved the photograph back into the envelope. “He will…he will not be happy.”

  “Perhaps. But you let that be my concern. Have we reached an agreement?”

  Fritz nodded.

  “Good,” Victoria stood. “I look forward to working with you.

  “Your father would be disgusted if he could see you now.”

  She smiled. “I should hope so.”

  The bodyguard followed a few feet behind Victoria as she stepped out into the cold air, pulling the fur collar of her black and gray coat closer to her face. In moments, a sleek, dark blue car pulled up.

  Victoria slid into the back seat, the soft leather enveloping her. Mr. Graves had a harder time fitting his impressive bulk into the drivers seat. He moved the seat back as far as it would go and still looked as uncomfortable as a large animal shoved into a crate.

  “Back to the hotel?” Mr. Graves asked before pulling out into the sparse traffic.

  “Yes, I need to make a few phone calls. And check on our guest as well.”

  Mr. Graves gave a low huff.

  “I know you don’t like him with us,” Victoria said.

  “It’s dangerous.”

  “I have him under control. The secret of controlling any animal is to have the right reward. And I have that in spades. Do trust me, and stop worrying.”

  Mr. Graves nodded, keeping his eyes ahead.

  Victoria looked out her window at the brightly-lit shops and cafes. The sun was giving way to towering dark clouds, and she watched as people scurried to their destinations in anticipation of another rain storm.

  But these observations simply served as a running thread of visuals that allowed her mind to disconnect and enter a near fugue state.

  She had done many things in the last few years that some would say made her a monster. Releasing the Fantasy fear gas on the neighborhood of Park Side was one of those things. What she was trying to do with the Coalition might be considered another. But Victoria knew that no matter how terrible she might appear, it was nothing compared to the threat that surrounded them all — people with abilities no one should possess, who could slaughter thousands with a wave of their hand, who walked free to use their powers in any way they wanted.

  Joining the Coalition was a step in the right direction to protect the world. Park Side was meant to prove how dangerous Powered People were, even if the vigilantes weren’t directly responsible for it.

  And if Mrs. Frost hadn’t stood in the way, the attack would’ve worked. The city would have its Special Enhanced Police Task Force to deal with Powered People. And I would’ve proven my worth to the Coalition.

  Alice’s self-righteous accusations during the Park Side attack two years ago echoed in Victoria’s mind and her shoulders tensed at the memory. It was easy, convenient to simply paint her as a monster, and usually, Victoria could care less. But lately, the implication that history might so easily lump her together with monsters like Hitler and Stalin was an unsettling thought.

  Everything I do, I do for the safety of the innocent. Someday people will see that.

  Memories of her children and husband came unwanted, and she tried to force them away, but today, they were quite insistent.

  I couldn’t protect you from them. But I will make sure they pay. I will make sure no other mother suffers as I do. I promise, Tony, I promise.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The candle’s wax dribbled in small beads onto the crystal holders, their dancing light caused the red table cloth to shimmer under the gleaming silverware and white plates. Glasses clinked, accenting the soft music that filtered through the small restaurant.

  “I’ve always wanted to come here,” Alice said to the man seated across from her.

  He smiled. “I’m glad I chose correctly. It’s one of my favorite restaurants. How is your duck?”

  “Perfect.”

  He raised his glass of wine and sipped, never taking his brown eyes from her face. Alice schooled her features into an amused, but submissive, smile and dutifully took a bite of the greasy duck.

  “I will admit,” he continued. “I was shocked that you agreed to come to dinner with me.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Well, I had thought that you were firmly engaged elsewhere.”

  Alice laughed, a false, silvery sound. “With whom?”

  “Dennis Drummond.”

  Now the laugh was more on the genuine side. Dennis Drummond was the son of the former Mayor and had less personality than a lump of overcooked oatmeal.

  Still, I had to make it look good. If I were just another debutante, he would’ve been a good catch.

  “Unfortunately, Mr. Drummond just wasn’t what I was looking for.”

  She let her gaze linger on his, her lips parting ever so slightly. The effect was nearly perfect. His pale skin flushed and he took a longer drink of his wine.

  “You,” Alice continued, “Mr. Parker, are not just fascinating, but intelligent, generous, and have something…well, I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I know that I like it, very much.”

  His smile turned more predatory. “I am very glad to hear it.”

  Their dinner continued, with the conversation descending into a slow-witted, predictable discourse that was insulting to Alice’s intelligence. But, when she felt it impossible to swallow one more word or accept a moment more of condescension, she remembered what Mrs. Frost had told her at the start of all this.

  “Men like these do not favor women who are too intelligent. Err on the side of stupidity, if you have to.”

  And so, she did for the rest of the four-course dinner, of which only the dessert was hers to choose.

  At the end, Mr. Parker helped Alice from the chair, pretending that the cane he handed to her didn’t make him want to wince in discomfort. Like the gentleman he was, Mr. Parker also helped her into her white Chimera fur coat. He did a decent job of wearing a relaxed smile as he walked beside her limping gait out to the valet station at the front of the small expensive restaurant. The winter air was dry and cold, cutting through the warmth of her coat and the thin material of her light pink dress and sending a chill through Alice.

  “I had a wonderful time, Mr. Parker,” Alice said.

  “Please, call me Jared. And know that I did as well. Perhaps we could have lunch next time, or if you like, we could go to the symphony. I have orchestra seats.”

  Alice smiled. She did enjoy the symphony, but the thought of going with him grated.

  “I would be delighted,” she said instead, following Mrs. Frost’s other advice on dating society men.

  “It will be vital to keep them interested, to make them believe they have a chance. A rejection after a date will discourage them and you will quickly have a bad label. At the very least, give a halfway answer, they will not know the difference.”

  Her cream-colored Cadillac pulled up, it’s blood red seats nearly glowing in the light of the street lamps. Jared helped her into the car, smiling all the while. But, as she pulled away, Alice was sure he was just as relieved as she for the evening’s end.

  “They will tolerate your limp and your low birth, to add my fortune to theirs. It is the only kind of marriage they truly care about.”

  “Was it a good evening, Miss?” asked her driver, Patrick Seville.

  “As pleasant as could be expected.”

  “That’s a shame.”

  Alice chuckled. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

  Patrick handed her a thick, green Filofax and a small packet of mail.

  “Miss Jones said to tell you to review the report from Dr. Allen first.”

  “Thank you, Patrick.”

  Alice opened the seal
ed envelope that had her name written on it in Gerald’s blocky handwriting and began reading.

  “Evidence suggests that a group of four orphans, calling themselves the Prides, are powered, though in what way I do not know. Their aberrant behavior has drawn the attention of one of their neighbors, who has contacted child services. If we do not act soon, they will be split up and put into a system that is not prepared to deal with them.”

  Alice felt her heartbeat quicken.

  “I have also discovered the existence of two more powered children within the Children’s home. I don’t know how they’ve so well hidden for this long, but if not for the keen observation of Mrs. Shannon, I’d have never known.

  The Pride children are particularly resistant to my attempts to convince them come to the Children’s Home. They insist that they want to meet you, to make sure that it’s really safe. My suggestion would be for both of us to visit the Pride children at the Spiral Falls apartment building in Park Side. If we wait and petition through regular channels, we risk losing them to the system, or worse.”

  Her thoughts began to whirl with implications of this news.

  “The eldest brother, Simon, is the one you must convince. He’s held them all together, though I don’t know how.”

  She and Gerald had suspected there would be more powered children making appearances in the coming years and she had asked Gerald to keep his eyes open for them. A few had surfaced here and there, mostly from school reports of strange violence or emotional distress. Alice had gotten quite good at talking to families about their children and encouraging them to help the child feel safe. A few parents had asked if Alice would be willing to train them, but she had firmly declined that responsibility. Not only could it weaken the in-roads she’d made with Victoria, but it might reveal too much about who Alice really was.

  What do I do for the orphans? They have no parents, no support…I can’t adopt them.

  She winced at the thought of being anyone’s caretaker. There were too many times she felt she was just barely taking care of herself.