City Of Blood

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The door slams shut behind me, and I relax for the first time all day. This place may not be home, but it's the closest I've got while I'm living here, and it's my safe haven for that reason. I don't share where it is with anyone other than the people I have to. If I could keep it away from the authorities, I would do too, but that would raise too many suspicions.

"Hello?" I call out.

No one answers. That's good. The first thing I want to do now is strip out of the wet clothes and get a shower. Which I can't do if someone wants to talk to me about what I've found out. I'm glad no one's here for another reason, though. I have nothing to tell them. Sometimes, I think I'm the worst spy ever.

I strip off my clothes and dump them in a pile on the floor of my bedroom. At least this place came with an en-suite. It's not something I have back at my normal vampire den, and I enjoy the privacy, even if it comes at the cost of my entire social life.

As soon as I'm in the shower, the stress of my day melts away. Something about the soggy remnants of this morning's rain put me in a foul mood for the rest of it, only made worse by clients who didn't seem to understand what they want from their marketing campaigns. Or that I'm nothing more than a low-level worker. I can't answer questions about how much each thing will cost them, and why everything is behind schedule.

I close my eyes and let the hot water run down my face. At least the City Of Blood doesn't torture its residents with bad water pressure. That would make things ten times harder to deal with.

I prolong my shower for as long as I can, knowing that when I get out, I have to deal with what I learned today. Including the long list of people who are heading towards the cage fights. I doubt any of them deserve what's coming their way. But there's no one to save them.

I thought I understood the phrase every man for himself before, but I was wrong. It's only since coming here that I've discovered the true meaning. Even in the short months I've been here, I've seen people turned over to the authorities by their own families, or by their best friend. People die in the streets at least once a week, and that's without the executions I've heard about.

But what gets to the outside world is carefully controlled. I heard about a lot of the things I'm seeing here but didn't understand the extent of them. If the outside world finds out what goes on here, then they'll be able to put a stop to it.

Which is why I'm here. To watch, learn, and report back. If I do my job, they'll be able to shut down the City Of Blood once and for all. If I fail, then I'll be dead, and none of it will matter to me.

I shut off the water and get out, wrapping myself in one of the thick towels I splurged on. At least the danger pay is a perk of being a spy and risking certain death.

My stomach rumbles, reminding me it's time to eat and drink. I like to take my blood with food, it feels a lot more civilised, though I know a lot of vampires don't feel that way.

I pad to the kitchen and pull a blood bag out of the cupboard. They may not last as long as keeping them in the fridge, but I prefer my blood room temperature, and I have to leave my apartment every day anyway, so it's not like I have to go out of my way to buy rations every couple of days. I pour it into a mug and drink some of it down, feeling instantly refreshed. It's amazing what ills a good mug of blood will chase away.

A siren blares through the apartment, making me jump. I'm not sure why, I should know what time dawn is. I grab my good phone from where I left it earlier and use the app on it to close the blinds. I may not use this one outside of my apartment, but it has it's uses while inside it. Most vampires will be running around pulling their curtains and blinds closed right now, while I can avoid turning into a crisp with nothing more than the touch of a button.

Which gives me a chance to check the notification flashing at the top of the screen.

A mission.

Kind of. Calling it a mission is probably going too far. In reality, it'll just be a message from one of my handlers outside the walls telling me I'm doing a good job, or something like that. I think it's supposed to keep my morale up. It doesn't work. I doubt anything could.

I click on it without paying much attention. My focus is on what I can eat for dinner. I need to go shopping but haven't had the time yet. A toasted bagel with cream cheese it is.

I'm halfway through putting my bagel in the toaster when I realise I haven't checked the message, just opened it.

With a sigh, I unlock my phone again and stare at the word on the screen.

Go.

It takes a moment for the meaning to sink in. They want me to go to the cage fights. I thought they might and was already preparing to. But it's now an official instruction. It's amazing how much can be conveyed in one word. But we have to use a heavy code if we want to send more than that or do what I did earlier and send through a chain of emails. But the latter is only for me sending information out. It's too dangerous for incoming emails. Not when we don't know anything about what kind of detective systems they have in place.

The bagel pops out of the toaster, but my stomach is too twisted up in knots to eat it right now. I'll come back to it later.

First, I have to work out my plan for the cage fights. I was going to use one of my false identities to go, but perhaps that isn't the best idea. Not if I need to go back several times.

For my first trip into hell, I'll just be plain old Chloe Simons. If I do my job right, no one will remember me anyway.