Vincent Kane's Rise From Ash

7: To Dare A Devil

When the evening slowly quieted into the night, the guests decided it was best to leave. Regina had been the first to make a dramatic exit when she found her wasted husband in the arms of another woman and slapped him across the face. The sound was what everyone heard, followed by a dissatisfied complaint as she dragged all the members of her family out.

Emma Williams was the last to follow her mother-in-law’s lead, turning back for a glimpse at the Duke one last time. 

The servants stayed up cleaning the house as Vincent waited for the moment his limbs would tire and finally give in to rest. 

“Hello again, Vincent,” a soft voice spoke.

Vincent wasn't quick to answer, instead he wondered who had recognized him as not just Lord Roth but as Vincent Kane. 

“It's good to see you after retirement. Although, I didn't imagine this was your definition of the word,” a laugh was followed by an aging cough and that was when Vincent remembered.

He turned to acknowledge the older man then, and embraced him in a hug as memories flooded back. He took off his mask, and looked at the retired chief he'd served under. Tears formed but they didn't fall. Not entirely.

“Commander Watson, sir,” Vincent gave a firm salute in respect even though he knew he didn't need to anymore.

The former commander in chief laughed, “times have changed, you know.”

“I know sir, but somethings don’t need to.”

When Vincent first met him, Archie Watson was Sergeant of the first Division at the time. He found Vincent broken, took him in, taught him and made him into the war hero that he became. Vincent owed his life to the man ever since. 

Vincent offered him his seat but Archie refused. “As you can see, I'm aging and it won't be long now, so I need all the rest I can get in my own bed,” he laughed, a croaky sound. “When I heard of a new Duke hosting a ball after so many years, it didn't take me long to figure out you finally made your decision.”

Silence hovered momentarily, but it was broken by a question.

“You knew?” It was more of a statement than it was a question and Archie Watson nodded.

“I always knew Emma Roth, and I took you in to honour my memory of her,” he muffled a cough with a napkin.

Vincent said nothing, but Archie felt the burn in the silence. He knew it wasn't directed towards himself, but it was definitely directed at something- someone.

He tucked his cold wrinkled hands into the pocket of his coat and turned to leave. Before he did, he said, “remember kid, if you ever need anything, don't be scared to ask.”

Vincent watched the old man retreat and somewhere on his way out, a man met him and helped him into a car.

*

Days passed when a phone call came in for the Duke and it was Gary handing it to him. There was only silence when he answered. He waited to hear a voice but nothing came. Silence- and a faint ragged breathing on the other end.

“Ahhh!!” a sudden, piercing scream jerked him immediately as he tried to listen for a conversation in the background.

“NO!! VINCENT…. HELP!” The screams came again. There was no denying the voice on the phone. It was his sister's. His heart raced at the sense of deep trouble. 

What was happening? Where was she??

His mind raced at the dangerous thoughts he was having as he paced in his study room. Gary was alert now more than ever as he watched his boss’s every move. 

“Hello.. Hello.. Tamar??” 

“AAAAHHHHGH!” Another scream, this time with the sound of breaking bones and a muffled struggle. Lastly, a gunshot resounded in the background and Vincent's heart dropped.

“HELLO?? HELLO!!!??” He bellowed, insanity seated on the edge. 

Just when he thought no one would answer, he heard a laugh and a slight mocking scoff. 

“I assure you, you’re messing with the wrong person,” someone said through a distorted voice. “She doesn't have much time left, best be the hero that you are and save her.”

“Who is this?!” Vincent barked

Bleep. 

The call ended.

Vincent groaned in fury, throwing the phone to Gary and giving an instruction to track the caller ID immediately. Quickly, he rushed to the helipad and took one of the choppers. Gary was following close behind. In no time, Vincent was putting on headphones and navigating airlines towards city z.

“Sir,” Gary called out through the deafening noise of the copter’s blades.

No response.

“Sir!”

“What?!!”

“I couldn't track the caller, but I was able to find out Tamar's location. She's not in her city, she's in Quincia.”

Vincent frowned. Last time he checked, she was on a flight back to her state.

“Well, where??” He demanded.

“22 WestWorth Street, the Tavern,” Gary confirmed, looking at the map on his phone. 

Sudden gloom washed over Vincent's countenance. The Tavern was a den of criminals- traffickers and druglords alike. It was a place that reeked of sin and waste and the worst men.

His fists clenched the controllers tightly. Who could've taken her there? His mind raced with thoughts. Thoughts of the wicked things he would do to the culprit. He would skin them alive and make them eat their own body parts. 

*

Tamar's location led them both into an abandoned storehouse. Apart from the old graffiti that lined the grey walls and the broken woodwork, there was no sign of anyone there. Luckily, they hadn't encountered any thugs that were too curious about them on the way but now that they were here, where was Tamar?

There was a doorway leading down into a darkened basement and as Gary put on a torchlight, he held the grip of his holstered gun firmly. They both did. 

Slowly, cautiously, they took the stairs downward. The place smelled of urine and stale air, and the heat made it all worse. They listened through the darkness for anything since they saw nothing.

A rattling noise came from somewhere in the room. Gary directed his torch to the place where they had both heard it. Apart from a squeaking mice that struggled to find its way out of an old box, there was nothing.

“Are you sure this is the place?” Vincent asked. Worry had long taken over and clouded his judgement. His only goal was to find Tamar, and he'd walk through the thickest darkness to do just that.

“Affirmative sir, according to the tracker she's still here.”

“Dammit!” Vincent rubbed his temples. “Search the area.”

“Yes sir.”

Suddenly, a high pitched shrill sounded from above. They both paused momentarily, Vincent was certain th

at was a scream. His breathing was ragged and heavy, and he was immediately sprinting towards the noise when it came a second time. 

“TAMAR!!”