Chapter One

Why did demons and underworld like creatures have to commit their crimes in a forest? Why couldn’t they pick the light of day in an alley, or maybe some beach in southern Miami? No, they had to pick a dark forest in the middle of the night. Oh, and these criminals were werewolves who were about to poach of mystical reptile that could breath fire and shouldn’t even exist.

Just O’Hara’s luck. Why couldn’t be just joined FBI or the U.S. Marshals or something? Nope, he was chosen to be part of the secret operation squad of the CIA, the Black Operations Unit. Out of all the ex-marines they could have choose, they had to pick Marc. Sure he had a good shot, but the true reason behind his being chosen was because he has seen the strangest things and not many things could scare him anymore. After three years of doing the grunt work, and a previous several in learning about the myths of the underworld creatures, Marc O’Hara could not have made that statement any truer.

Today’s assignment: stop the poaching of a rare North American breed of dragon. Werewolves are poaching and needs to be stopped because the AINGVAMPS will kill them all and we would not have anything to test new chemical weapons against. To Marc, he would not have understood any clearer on the subject of AINGVAMPS, or Attacking Vampires in long hand. They were basically the code name for the clan of vampires that sought it to be a duty to make sure that no one had ever seen the underworld creatures that lived around the humans.

Sure the agency has tried to make some sort of deal with them, but most of them being over several thousand years old. The oldest elder was from somewhere previous to Ancient Rome. To Marc he would be considered a living text book, but to his bosses he was just another vampire who needed to be dealt with. Being the desperate-for-action man he was at the moment, he could not have chosen a more stupid or dangerous assignment then this one. He would have to stop humans who could change into large wolves and had almost ‘super’ everything in them and keep a large rare breed of dragon safe and without any injury to any of them. Why couldn’t he just kill all of the werewolves and have his bosses chose another agent to capture werewolves?

Well, it was too late to make the choice of weather to continue or not. Marc cheeked his weapons to make sure they worked. His sniper rifle was fine. It was suited with heat censored spotting scope and built in long ranged targeting system. It was old school but he liked it that way. He also had a FBI standard issue 9 mm, Beretta issue no less, as well as a Swiss army knife from his marine days. Yup, he was armed to the teeth. He quietly made his way through the dense, dark and utterly scary forest towards the supposed spot that it is going down.

After several miles of walking and swearing every few steps about his mission, Marc finally found the spot of intend poaching. Through his scope, he could tell that most of them were tall, muscular and probably benched about 200 pounds men. Most of them kept in human form, but he could see a few large wolves circling around a large metal bared crate. It rattled and fire came out of it. Well, if you could actually call it a fire. It was rather a large stream of icy fog. What was this breed called again? The North American Fogster? Yeah, that was the agent name for it. In reality the dragon was called the Varlor Dragon. Why did the scientists have to make the names sound so dull? Typically in the hand book they had to read they were called that, but out in the field where the real work was done, they were called NAF; North American Fogster.

Just by a wild guess Marc could tell that the dragon did not really like being in its cage. But this time, he would have to be really careful on who he killed first and how he killed first. A werewolf was the oldest and most powerful of all were-creatures. Once he shot his gun and hit the target, then the rest depended on how fast he could reload and shoot at them again. Judging by how many weres were there right now, Marc had to be really quick about it.

He took his chances and decided to go in closer. It was more dangerous, but it would give him the advantage of his reaction time and the time it took to finish this. He really did not like being in a dark forest with almost ten werewolves, an angry dragon and God knows what else. Marc made it down the hill, almost fall straight into a raven like crevasse. It actually could be for his advantage if the werewolves decided to come directly at him. Maybe he could get a vacation after this? It would be good for him. The last time he had a vacation was the one day a few years back before he actually started his training for this CIA squad.

He waited for several minutes, deciding who was the alpha male of the group. As much as they were humans, they did show a lot of wolf like traits. The most obvious was their way towards the clan alpha’s. You could tell who was who by the fact the lower ranked people often bowed or dipped their heads. The lowest of the low types often graveled upon the alphas feet, it freaked Marc out most times. All he had to do was wait a few more minutes for himself to strike. Then he could go home.

Kristin LaFette cursed the operations team the humans set up. They agreed to share any given information between them, but this time their trust towards the Amos clan of vampires was too abused. As leader of her own squad, she had to make sure that all information obtained was hundred percent true. This time it was not. Her source and friend within the operations unit, Sara Miller, had warned her to be careful of the poaching scheme of a rare breed of dragon tonight. At first, Kristin thought that perhaps Sara was joking around as she thought the scheme went down tomorrow evening.

How wrong could she have gotten?

Well, let’s just say she took the caution side of things and went to tell her elders about it. Sure they approved of her having an inside source whom happened to be a friend, but they never thought that this would ever happen. So they gave her permission to chosen several of her fellow vampires and make sure the agency did not trick them. She had picked out the best of her squad and a long time friend who was turned into a vampire around the Middle Ages. She was sitting in the dark, her favorite hand gun sheathed into its normal place upon her thigh. She liked going out on missions. This brought her a chance to take out on how she had turned into a vampire. Kristin did not really like being a vampire, even with the large amount of perks it had. She still had to drink the blood of humans, which she did not have to kill. The Amos clan got their blood through the blood bank, it was sneaky and it was working. None of their vampires have killed a human without their dying consent. It was usually an old man or a person that was beyond the repair of doctors or healers. She had survived in her early stages by killing animals. But then she began to feast on humans before their elder, Deutero, scouted her into becoming part of his clan. He was the actually sire of the vampire that turned her. She forgave him, but still held hatred for what he did to a man she cared for. Kristin could never forget how it happened.

Before the memory could even pop into her mind, Kristin shut it down and faced the camp of the werewolves. The female dragon was breathing fog upon its proofed bars. She felt bad for the creature. If only she could have been here earlier to have stopped it. But no, the humans did not want their help. The truth was that the Amos clan vampires have been doing this for centuries, even longer then the humans started guessing about their existence. Why now do they choose to act out? Probably because they finally got wind of their clues the clan set out for them. Bram Stoker was a man whom the clan trusted, and they had him write the book on how to kill vampires. How do you think he got the idea? Dracula did really live, but he was part of a group of vampires that did not like the idea of being around humans. He was an oil production manager and all of his workers up to a certain point were vampire, born or turned. She only meant him twice because she was asked to retrieve some information he had about rouge vampires.

For being the blood sucker count in the book, he was far from it in the true light of things. He actually gave Stoker permission to use his name because he liked the idea of a count being a vampire. Everything else, besides him being a count and how to kill an actually vampire, was utterly fake and untrue. But, right now Kristin had a job to do.

“Hey Kristin, when can he finally attack these guys? I am getting a rash from sitting on these leafy looking plants.” her second in command Brandon Weaver asked. He was a medium sized man, good looks and besides the fact his eyes were a milky blue with a cat slit in the middle of them; you could not even tell that he was a vampire. He was turned by a rouge vampire and wanted to keep others from being bitten like him. The Amos clan liked him for his police background and took him in. He proved himself very early and soon became her second. She liked the fact that he could never get over her being about three thousand years old, but still look about thirty four. It was her true age actually. Thirty four. She was turned a few weeks after her birthday.

“When the stupid human the agency put just before the ravine takes action. Sara said they sent their best, Marc O’Hara.” Kristin said flatly. She had been at drop off point that was between the agency and her clan, O’Hara being at several of them. She never meant him face to face but she heard things about him from other vampires that had the pleasure of working with him. Her middle age’s friend was one of those people, but lucky for her she did not have to ask for Belladonna to explain O’Hara to Brandon.

“Marc O’Hara is an incredible human being specimen, but by our standards he is about middle-lower class vampire. Used to be a Marine until he was shot in the line of duty. He actually does not like working in large, spooky and dark creature invested forests like this one. O’Hara also likes to be simple and to the point most times, often swearing. Does not drink, smoke or have any tattoos except for the one on his right shoulder blade. It is the ID number a terrorist group gave him when he was captured and tortured by a terrorist group. It was also by the same group he got shot at when he escaped. So you can say that he was one tough bastard Brandon.” Belladonna said in her logic tone of voice. Kristin liked talking with her for the fact that they both were considerably vampires; most of them in their group came from about the last two centuries.

“Well, then I guess we can move now. Because the tough bastard is making his move.” Kristin said, facing the two who were talking and the other vampire that was standing ready. Gorham was a mute vampire due to the fact that the vampire that bit him cut his vocal cords. She felt sorry for him in some ways since he could not give in his opinion. But his body language and sign language did all of the talking for him. They all started towards the camp of werewolves and the capture dragon lay.

Kristin took the front, so she could charge in and lay fire to some of them and maybe fight hand to hand combat. It was also her job as team leader to make sure the stupid human did not kill himself. Belladonna and Brandon made the team that was to suppress the werewolves and Gorham was to release the dragon. If everything went well no one would get hurt. Since they were closer now to the werewolves they had to resort to military tactics and use hand motions to communicate to each other.

They were at the edge of the shadows when O’Hara shot at the alpha male of the group. Before the poor werewolf could get out of the way, he fell down dead. The man whom he was talking with turned around to everyone and shouted,

“We’ve got vamps! I smell them!”

There was a large shock of growls and howls as the men turned into their wolf forms. Kristin took the chance to make her first move as the human made his way to taking another shot. In a clear, strong and seductive tone of voice she yelled out across the camp, holding two guns in each hand.

“Heel boys, let me show you who is the boss around here. By the way, did you also know that it is illegal to poach a Varlor dragon? Or did you not know?” Before the beta wolf could lunge at her she hauled out her hand gun, the bullets tipped with silver; the only thing that killed werewolves. She lounged the bullets at a few other werewolves, but forgot about the one that was hidden in the forest. Her mind was getting towards the ravine was suddenly she heard a loud thump came from behind her. Kristin immediately turned around to see Marc O’Hara on top of a stabbed werewolf.

“Kristin! We got trouble with this one!” Brandon called from the dragon’s cage. The lower wolves had taken off by now, their leaders gone. Most likely they were newly turned or trained pups. She grumbled as she rushed over to the dragon. It was spitting mad at Gorham and Belladonna as they tried to get close enough to release it. She faced Brandon as O’Hara followed her.

“What?” she asked, furious on how the events turned out.

“Cool your jets boss, but we’ve got a problem with the Fogster here. We might need your touch.” his voice seemed light in a heavy situation. She turned towards the man behind here and told Brandon to watch him. “If he tries anything, break his legs.”

“Well do Kristin.”

Brandon let her aside, calling off the two vampires that were trying to free the dragon. Marc was surprised so much that he was in her mere presence. He heard of the Roman vampire, but never seen her in action before. She was usually dressed in a pair of black pants and as a body guard. Could it be truly her? Marc faced the vampire currently known as Brandon.

“Is that Kristin LaFette? The Kristin LaFette?” his voice was aimed towards Brandon but he kept his eyes on woman as she neared the cage. Another female vampire came up from behind Brandon, making no sound. He hated vampires for their stealth. But luckily he knew this vampire. He had to go on several missions with her before. In a casual tone he said,

“Nice to see you again Belladonna.” He dipped his head just as Brandon did so as well. He looked rather young, maybe late twenties, but who knew. Vampires could retain their age for eternity. Belladonna was wore a pair of black tight fitting jeans and a black fleece over that. Marc against asked his question,

“Is that really her? I mean, the Kristin LaFette?” his voice was in awe but still held a lot of control and curiosity in them. Brandon rolled his eyes as faced the female vampire. Belladonna gave him a glare that meant she was not going to talk about it. The man beside Marc gave a defeated sigh as both of them guarded him. The other male vampire was leaving the cage area now, leaving Kristin alone with the Varlor dragon.

“Yes,” Brandon finally said “That is Kristin LaFette.” he faced Marc now, blue eyes blazing. “Why do you ask?” Belladonna gave in her insight by adding a curious face as well.

“She is in our handbook.” he stated simply. The picture in it did her absolutely no justice at all. It must have been out dated. Belladonna’s eyes grew in shock as she asked,

“She is your handbook? Why?”

“In the section under VAMPIRES if gives a list of the most dangerous vampires, nice or not. She happens to be the holder of the number one spot with a large picture.”

“Won’t she be pleased to here that.” Brandon muttered as he faced his leader again. Marc followed his gaze and watched the vampire work wonders upon the dragon.

Kristin worked with dragons before; many believed she had a magical touch with them. It was just the fact she understood them. They were harmless creatures being hunted for no reason. They rarely went bad, even though some may not believe that. Kristin looked into the blood red eyes of the creature with her moon shade blue ones.

“Hey there girl. Did those bad were’s do anything to you?” she said in Roman, it was a dead language but it was the only language that dragons could speak in. It was such a rare talent to find anyone who could understand Roman, and but just the numerals.

Understanding the meaning, the dragon turned her head to reveal large scorch marks from prodding rods. Kristin cursed in English and said to the dragon, “It looks bad, but they are gone now. Be calm and maybe I can open this door and take care of your wounds.”

The dragon growled a little as she faced the vampires watching. Kristin understood the speech she received. The dragon was afraid and she reassured her that they would not harm her. Varlor dragons were perhaps the least dragons to get mad easily. Crooning in a calm ton Kristin reached for the gate and unlocked it. Slowly letting it swing open the dragon slithered out into the moonlight, showing off her scales.

Kristin put a hand on her side, looking her over. Her head was boxed shaped, no horns and therefore female. Her eyes were like a cat’s, except colored in a bright red color. She was long, like a serpent, her wings were smaller then most, but they were wider and provided more use of the air. From behind her head to the tip of her spiked tail was a long train of thin gold membrane. A beautiful looking creature that had been wounded by a large group of bastard dogs.

“Hold on now, this is going to hurt for a second.” Kristin said and pressed her mouth towards the wound. A low rumbled vibrated from the dragon’s throat in pain as the saliva of a vampire worked its magic on the wound. Within several seconds the wound was healed and Kristin released. She patted the dragon and said good bye. “Dracul Speed my friend.” With that the dragon took a leap towards the sky and out of their sight.

“You know Kris, I really think that you shouldn’t do that.” Belladonna called she began to walk up towards their captive and her three fellow soldiers. Kristin eyed her with a ‘what’ expression. In defeat Belladonna threw up her hands and replied, “I swear that one of these days you are going to loose to much power and die saving a dragon.”

“But she has a gift Bella.” Gorham said using his hands to send his message across. Brandon agreed with a nod and Kristin smirked and looked at Marc O’Hara. She rolled her eyes and put her hand to her face- trying to think of a way to go about this problem.

“Hello,” Marc said after a long term silence “My name is…”

“Marc Danielson O’Hara.” Kristin quickly said, cutting him off on the spot. Brandon quickly went to stand behind her in case things got a little messy. He raised an eye brow and said,

“And you must be Kristin LaFette, most dangerous vampire known to human kind. Also known as ‘the vampire that is a pain in my ass’ by my superior officers.” He sounded smug about it and Kristin just rolled her eyes again. She flipped out a cell phone and Brandon gave a sigh as well as Belladonna. Must have been a bad sign. After a quick conversation on the phone in some language she flipped it shut and whistled.

Wondering what in the name of hell was going on, Marc Looked around for any sign. He heard terrible sounds as shrills pierced the night. Kristin smiled as four black horses came riding into the camp. They were all black as the night and carried a considerable amount of weaponry. The one leading had the most defiantly style, as it looked like a horse from the middle ages. It was also the one with the most amount of guns stocked onto the saddle.

Once the horse stopped, the vampires mounted. With a quick looked around Kristin muttered to herself as she pulled Marc up onto the saddle. Surprised she snapped the reins and everyone moved out. Is this how they got around all the time? On freakin’ horseback? Yup, most defiantly.

Everything flew by in a blur as they went at almost an inhuman speed. They arrived in another large forest and stopped. A large rock face was in front of them. In a loud voice she muttered something with the other vampires. Vampires must have had their own language as the doors opened at their command. In plain English Brandon said,

“Welcome to the home of Amos clan of vampires for several centuries my friend. Welcome to Roarke Castle.”