"Hey, brother, I don't feel comfortable in this place." Richard murmured as he watched the table where Jonathan and the others sat; he felt watched from that table, and that feeling only came when police were looking at him.
Seth looked toward the table where his brother was watching and said, "Stop being paranoid. The United States police can't do anything to us here—we're fine."
"Hey, Dad, that man's cross looks like the one you used to wear." Jacob's son, Scott Fuller, looked at the cross on Jonathan's neck with great interest.
Jacob then looked in Jonathan's direction, and when he saw that cross his heart sank. He immediately thought, What are those people doing here?
As a former priest he recognized certain things—one was the symbol on those trucks. He vaguely remembered that group taking people who came to their church for help every so often.
When he asked what they did to people taken by members of the T.O., the only answer he received was that he didn't yet have the right to know.
He had always been curious, but all those thoughts receded after his wife's death and his loss of faith in God, who had not helped him despite how devout he once was.
"Is something wrong, Papa?" Jacob's daughter, Lisa, saw the pale look on her father's face and asked with concern.
Jacob turned to his daughter and said, "It's nothing—I'm getting old. Drinking so much makes my head hurt."
"Then drink some milk, old man. Didn't you say you'd come with us?" Seth arrived with another bottle of liquor.
"I will. It's just a little dizziness." Jacob said, averting his eyes from Jonathan's table, where Jonathan was quietly drinking his wine.
…
Inside the bar Jonathan scanned the place; the smell of blood was strong. "This is the place. It really seems to be a nest."
"How many do you estimate?"
"Hard to say, but around seven hundred."
Father Doug looked at Jonathan and asked, "Can we hold out until help arrives?"
"We can. I'll take care of all of them without you having to move." Jonathan said as he took another drink.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
"Everybody hands up. I'll drink this bottle and as many more as I want and no one will tell me otherwise."
Jonathan then looked toward the commotion at the neighboring table—there was a surprise: two men pointing a small pistol in every direction.
If he remembered correctly, they were the same ones who had hit the man at the entrance; now he had come to collect his debt.
Jonathan recalled that after these events the vampires' dinner would begin and many would start to transform.
"Zz… Every worker and dancer in this place is a vampire. Fix your targets and eliminate them all without hesitation."
The orders were being issued in secret.
"There's going to be a fight for sure." Wednesday said, preparing for any reaction.
But her suspicions were unfounded; the man wasn't there for revenge for the earlier blows—he was there because he believed those men were not truckers.
"Why are you bothering my friends?" Jonathan asked before things could escalate and ruin his plan.
"Huh?"
Jonathan stood, walked toward those men, and asked, "We're all truckers. We'll be here one night and then we leave. Why don't you leave these men alone? You're ruining the party for everyone here, am I wrong?"
"We don't need your help." Richard, looking increasingly nervous at Jonathan, snapped back.
"What's wrong with that? You've already made a mess and you're wearing out my patience. If you don't lower your weapons and let things calm down, my mood will change." Jonathan said, staring down the man.
Seth, who had seen Jonathan intimidating his brother, intervened and said, "I'm curious—what will you do if your mood changes?"
Just as Jonathan was about to answer, Jacob stepped in and said, "Enough arguing. These men are with me, and I have a trucker's license. If you still doubt it, you can go see my beautiful truck parked not far from the entrance."
Vampires wouldn't accept people who probably had family nearby; those were too many future problems for them to risk if they wanted to keep feeding here.
A vampire paradise—they didn't kill everyone, only those who stayed too late. They wouldn't benefit from a place nobody talked about and that didn't get visitors.
Jonathan understood this about the place, but if tensions rose his plan might be affected if the vampires decided not to emerge on their own and instead show their agents that they truly were vampires.
"Sorry for the trouble." The man who wanted to remove the crazy brothers said.
"Hey, excuse my manners. I'll buy you a bottle as thanks." Seth said after everything calmed down.
Jonathan simply raised his glass, sat down, and said, "Now let's wait. When it all starts I'll personally begin the attack until the team goes in."
Father Doug, drinking from the bottle Jonathan had brought, murmured, "These tables are new—looks like an amateur made them."
"The place is a façade; they feed off everything they've stolen from truckers." Jonathan said, placing his sword on the table.
He only had to wait until the real party began.
Wednesday, calm as always, watched her surroundings—especially those beautiful dancers who were actually monsters—and only now did she understand the hunters' disdain for the academy where she had studied.