Something about that name tickled at Elyssa's memory. She'd heard it before, hadn't she?

"Are you okay?" Beck asked.

Elyssa looked up and realized she was scrunching her forehead and wincing with the effort to recall the missing bits in her mind. All she came up with was a big fat zero. "I thought the name sounded familiar, but I guess not."

He laughed. "You look kind of cute when you're concentrating."

She punched him on the shoulder. "I'll show you cute."

"Anytime, hot stuff."

They pushed through the metallic doors and into the armory where a girl about Elyssa's age and build was polishing a silver katana. By her black hair and fair complexion, Elyssa guessed she was probably not from these parts.

"Recruit Borathen?" the girl said without looking up from her work. Her accent sounded Italian.

"That's me."

The girl twirled the katana, the muscles in her arm rippling, before effortlessly slipping it into a leather sheath on her hip. She stood and walked to a table piled with equipment and held up a matte-black belt woven into a dense mesh. "This is your Nightingale armor. A lot more protection than the garbage you wear in the States." She tossed it to Elyssa. "Put it on."

Sure thing, Miss Bossy Pants.

Resisting the urge to fling the belt back at the mouthy twit, Elyssa strapped the belt around her waist and pressed a hidden spot on the side of the buckle. The black material flowed down her legs, up her torso, and across her arms, covering her hands with gloves of the same material. Another pressure point on the uniform's neck sent the material washing across her face, molding perfectly to her head and forming a hood. Even though it covered her eyes, she could see as clearly as though nothing were there.

The girl's arrogant posture deflated a bit. "You're already familiar with the armor I see."

Elyssa retracted the armor back into the belt. "Just because we don't use it that often doesn't mean we don't have Nightingale armor."

"Then you are not as ignorant as I had feared." The girl pushed an equipment vest across the table. "If something does confuse you, don't be afraid to ask me for guidance."

It took a great deal of effort to keep from punching the officious bitch in the nose. "And you are?"

She returned a condescending smile. "I am Fausta."

Weird name.

Inside the equipment vest Elyssa found sleeper cuffs, a wrist-mounted Lancer, which shot silver projectiles charmed to incapacitate just about any kind of supernatural, and a variety of survival supplies she rarely used for urban enforcement duties in Atlanta. Maybe this place really was like the Wild West.

A set of matched katanas rounded out the package. Elyssa slid them from their sheaths and tested one in each hand with a few twirls. The superb balance in both blades reassured her, though she wasn't a fan of their length. "Do you have any sai swords?"

Fausta grunted. "Of course, but why would you want toys over these?"

Elyssa shrugged. "I like the feel better. Comes from fighting in tight quarters."

"Well, before you go back to your kiddie swords, why don't you give these a try?"

"They're not kiddie swords," Elyssa growled.

"Maybe you'll realize they are when someone guts you with the extra foot of blade a katana gives you."

"Want to test my kiddie swords against your oversized kitchen knife?"

Fausta snorted. "You use sais, and you're calling these oversized kitchen knives?"

"Any man-at-arms should know the value of different blades. Oh wait, I guess you're actually a girl-at-arms. My mistake."

"Ladies, we don't have time for this," Beck said, pushing between the two of them as Fausta tried to get in Elyssa's face. He glanced at Elyssa. "Do you really want sai swords or are you trying to be difficult?"

She flashed a sarcastic smile at him. "Maybe I should test them on you."

Fausta huffed out a loud sigh and dropped a matched pair of sheathed sais on the table. "Fine, have it your way."

"Not like we'll be slicing and dicing anyway," Beck said, making the sign of the cross on his chest. "Don't want to piss off the Reds."

"I sincerely doubt they'll care if we wipe out a splinter group," Fausta said. "I read about the last time a group of newbie vamps pulled this crap on the Red Syndicate. The Reds eradicated every last one without a second thought."

"Yeah, but something strange is going on with the old-school vamps," Beck said. "They don't even seem to care about the Maximus issue."

"Probably because the Arcanes are ready to go to war with the Reds over the Dallas massacre."

Now that was something Elyssa did remember. "You mean when vampires attacked the Dallas branch of the Ezzek Moore School for the Gifted?" Templars had briefly investigated the horrific crime before the Arcane Council told them they'd take care of it internally.

Fausta nodded. "Yep. Bunch of vamps killed the best and brightest upcoming kid sorcerers before the teachers could kill the attackers."

Beck picked up a slim silver dagger from a nearby table and made a show of picking his fingernails. "The Reds said they didn't have anything to do with it, but the Arcane Council claimed that one of the attackers was a high-ranking officer in Red Cell."

Red Cell was the vampire equivalent of the Templars, protecting the interests of their ancient masters and taking care of internal affairs, but the Syndicate hadn't used them in offensive operations for centuries, as far she knew. Physical fights among the major Overworld factions were also rare, which made the Dallas incident all the more troubling.

Beck tugged on her elbow. "We'd better go. Christian's gonna start the briefing soon."

Elyssa grabbed both sets of swords—just to be on the safe side—and shoved the other stuff under her arm.

Fausta smirked. "I hope your toothpicks keep you safe." She walked back to her chair and looked up just as Elyssa opened the door to leave. "Oh, and I'm more than happy to spar anytime you like."

Elyssa raised an eyebrow. "Looking forward to it." She resisted the urge to stick out her tongue and left.

"It's good to see you make friends just as easily now as the last time I saw you," Beck said with a dry chuckle.

She would have punched his shoulder again, but her arms were full. "I'm not the one who got bent out of shape over someone else's choice of swords."

"Yeah, don't take it the wrong way. Fausta thinks she's a badass. Then again, so do you."

"Is she?"

One corner of his mouth curved up into a lopsided grin. "Pretty much, yeah."

Several Templars hurried past them into the building that housed the briefing room. Elyssa followed them inside the squat building and down a wide hallway until she reached an auditorium semi-circled by raised tiers of stadium seats. Christian stood next to a black table in the front. She and Beck took adjoining seats as the room filled with fully outfitted Templars. The air conditioning and ceiling fans made the only noise aside from the occasional shuffle of someone slipping into a chair. This group seemed disciplined. Battle-ready.

Christian checked the time and made a crisscrossing gesture at the doors, sealing them into a seamless surface. He withdrew a shiny white globe, an all-seeing eye the size of a marble, from a chest and placed it on the table. The ASE spun on its axis, spinning faster and faster until a holographic image burst to life, dominating the table surface.

The Templar commander paused the playback. "Meet Maximus, a former Red Cell recruit who went rogue a couple months ago, according to our information." He waved a hand at the ASE and playback resumed.

The ASE had obviously been spying from the ceiling of a room and provided a great view of the packed audience—mostly young people—with a platform in the center. Atop a podium stood a tall, muscular male in a long, leather trench coat and wrap-around shades. A thick goatee multiplied his douchebag factor by about a million.

Maximus smiled at the crowd. "For too long, we have let the ancients push us around and tell us who could join the Syndicate and who couldn't. I'm here to tell you that everything is about to change and we're the ones to do it!" Maximus pumped a fist in the air and displayed his fangs in a predatory grin.

A roar of shouts and applause met his declaration. Although Elyssa pegged the speaker's physical age at about thirty, she knew he could be hundreds of years older.

"Our work here is just starting," Maximus said, "but we have allies who will push our agenda forward until our voice is heard. They will not ignore Blood Rush."

The crowd roared. A chant went up, "Max-i-mus, MAX-I-MUS!"

He stroked his goatee and smiled, wallowing in the adoration like a pig in poop for a moment, before holding up a hand and silencing them. "How many of you are candidates for the gift?"

A hundred or more hands went up.

"I have personally given the gift to thousands, and you will each receive your reward in turn. Go spread the word. Recruit, recruit, recruit!" He pounded the bottom of his fist into the other palm for emphasis. "United, we will force the ancients to give us the immortality and power we deserve!"

The mob exploded into jubilation.

Christian motioned for the ASE to stop playback. "This is what we're up against, people. A cult filled not just with young vampires, but noms who fanatically want to become vampires. Maximus calls his movement Blood Rush, and it's spreading across Bogota like a cancer."

Elyssa thought the name sounded like something a hormonal teenage boy would name his band. How could people take an idiot like this Maximus creep seriously?

"Shouldn't Red Cell be taking care of this?" someone asked.

"Red Cell is occupied with the Arcane Council, and all our attempts to push them to action have been met with silence or bureaucratic red tape. The Overworld Conclave has also taken no action. However, supers are revealing their existence to noms, a clear violation of Conclave rules. What that means, people, is this is our mess to clean up."