Out of the Shadows 026
A 5-star machine-augmented MIDNIGHT'S WAR novel
The Hidden Citadel
The descent into the Medici fortress below Manhattan took longer than Elliott expected. The nondescript van had entered through what appeared to be a maintenance tunnel beneath the East River, but instead of emerging on the other side, they’d continued downward through a series of increasingly ancient-looking passages. The modern concrete gave way to older brick, then to even older stone that looked as if it might predate Manhattan’s incorporation as a city.
“How deep does it go?” Elliott asked the Eastern European vampire who’d introduced herself as Katarina during the ride.
“The Citadel exists on multiple levels,” she replied, checking something on a tablet that seemed incongruous with her old-world demeanor. “The uppermost chambers start around sixty feet below street level. The deepest…” She paused. “Well, Lord Medici has been excavating this location for a very long time.”
The van finally stopped in what looked like an underground parking garage, albeit one carved from living rock. Other vehicles were already there—a mix of modern luxury cars and older models that Elliott suspected were kept for their reliability rather than their style. As they exited, he noticed armed guards at every entrance, their weapons an eclectic mix of modern firearms and more archaic implements.
“Mr. Grahame.” Lorenzo de Medici emerged from a set of bronze doors that looked like they belonged in a Renaissance palace. The ancient vampire lord had changed from his dinner attire into something more casual, although the simple black sweater and slacks fit him as if they had been custom-tailored for him. Which, Elliott realized, was probably the case. “Welcome to my North American residence. I understand your evening was eventful.”
“That’s one word for it,” Elliott replied, still shaken by the evening’s violence. “Your security team saved my life.”
“That was no more than their duty.” Medici’s expression darkened momentarily. “Although I would have been more pleased if they had been competent enough to allow you to avoid it. This attack represents a significant breach of protocol, regardless of who was responsible. But come, let me show you around first, before we address these unpleasant necessities.”
He gestured for Elliott to follow, and they passed through the bronze doors into a corridor that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a European palace. The walls were hung with tapestries that Elliott’s enhanced vision revealed to be genuinely medieval, their threads still vibrant despite their age. Suits of armor stood sentinel in alcoves, and he had the unsettling feeling they weren’t merely decorative.
“The Citadel has been my personal project for the last two centuries,” Medici explained as they walked. “New Amsterdam, as it was originally known, offered unique opportunities. A new city, built on commerce rather than tradition, a place where money could buy privacy and influence in ways the old European capitals would never permit.”
They passed through a series of interconnected chambers, each more impressive than the last. A library with books that made Elliott’s fingers itch to examine them, full of exquisite volumes bound in various leathers and metals he couldn’t identify, some of them written in scripts that might well predate modern languages. There was an art gallery where paintings by masters hung casually on the walls, a few of them supposedly lost to history.
“That’s not really a Caravaggio, is it?” Elliott asked, stopping before a dramatic chiaroscuro in oil depicting Judith beheading Holofernes.
“Oh, it’s quite genuine,” Medici assured him. “It was stolen from my villa outside Rome in 1798 by one of Napoleon’s generals. I reacquired it in 1923 from a private collector who didn’t appreciate its provenance. Or my claim to it.”
He smiled faintly in a way that made Elliott doubt the collector had survived Medici’s successful reacquisition of the painting.
They continued deeper into the complex, passing through areas that served more practical purposes. There was a state-of-the-art medical facility where a team in scrubs worked on something Elliott couldn’t quite see. There was also a gym where a pair of vampires sparred with incredible speed, and a large communications center that was so well-equipped it might have made the NSA envious.
“We’ve adapted to the modern world,” Medici said, noting Elliott’s interest. “Those who didn’t…” He shrugged eloquently. “The old ones who refused to change, who remained inside their crumbling castles and clung to their ancient ways, they’re mostly ash and memories now. Over the centuries, they were hunted down by men whose technology they neither understood nor respected.”
Out of the Shadows is available in Kindle, KU, audibook, and hardcover editions.
I’m curious if Medici still collects living artists and their art.