INDIGO (RISE OF CRIMSON)

CHAPTER 4

Eric logadd sat on one of the big crates that filled the endless building. He was a stubby man with a thick moustache, ruddy cheeks and dark brown eyes. He was richly dressed in a double breasted dark grey pinstriped suit. One of his hands was tucked inside the jacket. Two heavily armed men stood on either side of him.

“I was informed this meeting would be private.” He kept his expression serious. The man may have been wearing a four thousand dollar suit, but he still looked like a grease ball to him.

Eric laughed, “of course, Mr. Baal, but this is a private meeting.” He stood up holding his arms out in a welcoming gesture. I am an important man, I need protection,” he nodded toward Nathan, “just as you do.”

“Of course”, Damon forced a smile and opened his suit jacket, “however, as you can see we are not carrying any weapons.” We are the weapons, he thought.

“Well, you must be careful of your friends when you are in a position such as I am. I know you can understand that.” Eric didn’t act fearful of Damon. He really didn’t need to be. He’d dealt with men much more powerful than Damon Baal.

“I never said we were friends.” Damon simply stated as he retrieved the briefcase from Nathan and held it out to Eric.

Eric’s smile faded slightly at the insult but then decided to let it pass especially with the contents of the case on his mind. “I assume it’s all there?”

One of his men stepped in front and took the briefcase from Damon and he leveled his gaze on him causing him to hesitate as if he saw something in there for a moment and was trying to see if he imagined it. Then he snatched the case out of his hands like touching it at the same time as Damon would cause him to be burned. Damon smiled as he refused to have eye contact with him again. The big man placed it one of the crates and opened it. He began to count the bundles of one hundred dollar bills contained within.

“Of course it’s all there. Take your time.” Damon responded.

Nathan stood behind him with his expression unreadable while studying the surroundings with quick eyes and heightened senses. His plan was already completed in his mind of how things were going to go down. Little did the fat man know that he and Damon had been communicating the whole time.

Eric waited until his man finished counting and gave a brief nod. “Crack it.” He indicated to the crate he was perched upon when Damon first entered the building.

The sound of splintering wood reached Damon’ ears as the man pried off the lid with a crow bar. He then pushed it back showing the contents being nothing but straw.

Eric stepped forward and dipped his hand deep into the crate pulling out a bag of white powder. “You can imagine my surprise when I heard that the Damon Baal wished to buy from me” He pulled a switchblade from an inside pocket of his double breasted coat and tore a small hole in the bag. “I never, in a million years, would have considered an antique art dealer such as you would be interested in dealing drugs.” He dipped his knife in the bag leaving a small amount of substance on the tip of the knife. He lifted it towards Damon, “I always thought you were an honest businessman, with all the charities you support and fund raising events that you coordinate.” Eric stood grinning at him, “who’d ever thought you would deal with the likes of me? Then again, we shouldn’t believe everything we hear, should we?”

Damon wanted to rip his throat out right then, but restrained himself. He wanted to put fear into him first. He wanted to see this over-boasted dealer stare at him with ultimate terror as he drained the life out of him. The thought made him smile. He stuck the tip of his finger in the coke and tasted it.

“What do you think, Mr. Baal? It is good, is it not?” he stood there grinning.

Damon nodded and his expression turned angry; he’d just about had enough, “What do I think? I think you are a drug dealer Mr. Rease.”

“I have the best shit in L.A.” he boasted, missing the change in Luca’s expression.

“I’d hoped so.” Damon stood straight and stared down at the little stubby man. He was smiling but here was no amusement in his expression, “I dislike drug dealers, Mr. Rease. You people have small children manufacture this filth for you, then destroy them by selling to them on the streets.”

It took a few moments for Eric to realize that he had just been insulted. “What the hell are you talking about? I just sold this to you!” He shook the bag of coke that he held in his hand creating small puffs of white clouds in the air as it spilled out onto the cement floor, “You’re crazy!”

Nathan took a step forward at the insult, Damon held up his hand and motioned for him to stop without turning around, “You have created more death in your lifetime, than my kind has done in ours. Also, you are tainting our food supply. Something I really don’t appreciate.”

Eric reached into his coat for his gun. This guy was nuts. He didn’t have a clue what he was talking about, but he did know that if he was stupid to come here unarmed, it didn’t bother him one bit to wipe him off the face of the earth. His men also leveled their guns on Nathan and Damon with their boss’s movements. Eric was shocked at the fact that the two expressions of the men took on amusement at three guns aimed them.

Damon smirked as his eyes flicked down to the paltry means of protection and back to Eric. When the smell of adrenaline reached his nostrils, he knew it was time. He kept his piercing stare on Eric and his voice deepened, “All that shit does for me, Mr. Rease, is give me a splitting headache. So, what I am talking about…” Damon pulled back his lips to reveal his unnaturally elongated canines,”…is a little crime prevention.”

Eric staggered back in terror, his mouth gaped open, “What the hell!” His arms waved furiously, “kill him! Kill him!” he shouted at his men.

His men opened fire without hesitation. Damon stepped backwards at the force of the bullets as they found their mark. Nathan lunged with lightning speed in a cat-like motion through the air knocking one to the floor and ripping out his throat with his bare hands. The other man screamed at the graphic scene and turned to run, but it was too late. Nathan was already up off his first victim and seized the second man by his coat collar. He circled his arms around the man’s thick middle and crushed his rib cage, puncturing his lungs. He then broke his neck in an effortless fluid motion while an inhuman roar ripped from deep within his throat.

Damon stood for a moment willing his body to mend. The bullets, one by one, exited his body and hit the ground with a tinny ‘plunk’ as his flesh immediately repaired itself. He didn’t feel pain like normal human beings; it was just a slight discomfort. He was willing to put up with it just for the prize. The more frightened his victims were, the better the feast. He took a brief moment to study the scene before him. Nathan was feeding, and Eric was gone. Damon tipped his head toward the darkness of the vast warehouse and released a snarl of satisfaction. He could hear Eric’s panicked footsteps echoing off the crates. More importantly he could feel the rush of blood mixed with adrenaline push through Eric’s thudding heart. By itself the taste of blood was bland, but mixed with a rush of adrenaline, it was a delicacy.

Somewhere in the dark recesses of the warehouse Eric stopped and rested against a pile of crates, his breathing heavy. He was out of shape and with the flash of fear over what he’d seen he was quickly exhausted. At least he knew that there was no way Baal could find him. These warehouses go on forever. It was easy to get lost in them. He would figure a way out later. Right now he had to get away from that monster. “What the hell was that?” Eric whispered to himself. No one could take that much lead and still stand.

“You’re right.” Came an inhuman voice directly beside him. “No one could take that much lead and survive. But I can.”

“Wha…!” Eric swung his head around just to face Damon, who’d just stepped out of the shadows. He saw the definitive power held in Damon's luminescent violet stare and he turned stark white in sheer terror, “Oh…Jesus!”

In a flash Damon seized Eric’s throat in a vise-like grip of immeasurable strength, “No, but thank you for the compliment.” He lifted the obese man effortlessly in the air so his toes were just touching the floor and slammed him back against a wall of wooden crates making him grunt in pain and echoing the sound of splintering wood through the warehouse.

Eric gasped under the pressure on his throat, “What… the…hell?”

“I think you know what I am, Eric.” Damon grinned hungrily.

Eric saw Damon’ mouth open revealing the inhuman teeth within, “Sweet god…this can’t be!” he began to stutter prayers in Italian.

Damon effortlessly pulled his head to one side exposing the site of the jugular vein and his eyes focused on the rapidly pulsing vessel, “Your prayers cannot help you now, Eric. You have brought your own death upon yourself.” With lightning speed Damon sunk his teeth into his neck.

Nathan lifted his head and grinned, showing his razor sharp teeth hearing Eric’s scream echo through the vast building then abruptly stop. Damon had found his prey.