A beginning author's note
Okay, first things first: this story fucks with timelines. It is canon divergent from the Boondock Saints in several ways, and Vampire Academy in one. Number one, the events of the first Boondock Saints films happened one year prior to the start of this story. Number two, this story's set in 2018. This means cell phones, facial recognition software, and everything else that would make the MacManus brothers' lives hell. Number three isn't really a total divergence from canon, but it's a diversion from what was said in the second film - the brothers didn't go straight to Ireland from Boston. Noah MacManus, on the other hand, did - to prove to Connor and Murphy's mother that he was alive. Number four, the year being bumped up has some...implications for the main group from the Vampire Academy series - in this story, Lissa has been queen for seven years.
With that out of the way, let's get to this tale of madness...
Diana hung up the phone, slipping the thin device back into her purse. "Finally," she sighed, turning to her laptop and flipping it open. The queen had finally granted permission for the blended defense organization she'd established four years ago, Valor - a small organization of Moroi and dhampir individuals dedicated to the extensive protection of the Moroi people by combining the dhampir's physical talents with Moroi elemental magic. All Moroi over the age of eighteen were recommended to take at least one year of weekly self-defense classes, six months of which were spent in elemental groups, where individuals would learn the best tricks to use their element in self-defense application, and those who wished to could join Valor.
Having joined the organization as soon as she could, Diana was among the highest ranks of Valor, and Queen Vasilisa had chosen her for a unique program. For the first time in centuries, selected humans would be brought into Moroi society, through Valor, which had come to be recognized as the first like of defense against Strigoi. If the initial stage of the program worked, it would be expanded to include more humans of a like mind to those who had been first selected. And Diana had two men in mind.
A year prior, when Diana had been set up in Boston, a pair of brothers made their mark on the city, scourging the wicked in the form of organized crime and leaving pennies in the eyes of each victim. Their enthusiastic vigilantism caught her attention, and she'd followed their escapades to their finish. Now, they were again in the same city as she - New York City, the city that never sleeps, and they'd turned their attention wholly upon the Mafia. She quickly fell back into her following of their path, and she was fairly sure who they would strike next. All she had to do was get there before they got away.
Two nights passed between the call of confirmation and the night that Diana was certain the brothers would take their next mark. If they did not, she would wait. She'd moved her motel room to a location merely five minutes walking distance from where Diana knew the individual the brothers sought next was staying. It wasn't difficult to do, really - just a matter of tracking their movements and whose information they'd be able to find from their prior targets.
Diana found herself sitting in a grey sedan across the street from the location when she saw them. Two men in black coats and light jeans, walking with purpose. Slow and easy, she slipped out of her car, pulled the hood of her heather gray hoodie up, and followed behind them at a decent pace into the building.
She wasn't going to interfere. She just needed to make sure that these two actually were who she sought.
Quickly, she was proven correct. They ducked into a room, and within moments, the sound of silenced gunfire could be heard. Diana smiled. Her plan had thus far gone perfectly. She just needed to convince these two men that not only was she not here to harm them or turn them in to the authorities who sought them, but that she was something more than human and she was interested in hiring them into an organization that would allow them to legally do as they had been doing. That was going to go fabulously.
Showtime, she thought, as the door opened, revealing the tall, blue-eyed form that was Connor MacManus.
"Who the fuck are you?" he hissed. "Are you a cop? Fed?"
"None of the above, Mr. MacManus," Diana assured. "My name is Diana Whelan, and you can consider me a friend. Please, would you and your brother kindly follow me? That rathole of a motel you've been staying in doesn't have enough security to discuss the proposition I have for you."
"How'd you know where we're staying?" Connor inquired, keeping his voice low as he stepped into the hallway.
"Let's just say I'm a fan, for now. A very faithful fan who's kept track of your movements."
"So you're a stalker, then?" Murphy spoke up, following his brother into the hall and closing the door behind him.
"Not in a physical sense, Mr. MacManus. I was already in Chicago when you got here, and before that I had been following your escapades through an internet forum dedicated to keeping tabs on your work. So that they can ensure you're still free."
"And how about this?" Connor argued, one hand gesturing to the hallway.
"Oh, that was easy - for me. I have resources, friends, and they got me a flow chart of who knows who best in the local syndicate. I figured that you were using the prior mark's house and belongings to determine who to target next, and it just made sense that the individuals who knew one another well would have information implicating each other."
"I never thought o' that," Murphy grumbled, brows furrowing.
"It doesn't matter. Would the two of you please accompany me to my motel for the evening? I've got a lot to talk to you about."
Understatement of the year.
Thirty minutes later, Connor and Murphy were sitting at a small dining table by the window of Diana's motel room, as she handed them each a container of warm food. "Sorry for the wait, there, guys," she said, before ducking into the room's mini-fridge and pulling out a container of Ben & Jerry's Half-Baked ice cream. "You understand that it's not exactly safe to let just anyone see you right now. I just had to make sure that the food was exactly as you wanted."
Connor opened the container, but didn't start eating. Murphy, however, ripped open the cutlery package and started tearing into the pancakes Diana had ordered for delivery from a nearby 24-hour diner. "What's this proposition you've got for us?" Connor asked, locking eyes with Diana.
Diana sighed. "Okay. This is going to be an...interesting discussion," she admitted, setting her ice cream on the bedside table and folding her hands over her knees. "I need you both to trust me enough to sit and listen with an open mind. I am not affiliated with the government as you know it, nor am I part of some shady criminal organization. Do I have your word that what goes on within this motel room does not go elsewhere?"
The brothers shared a look - Murphy with a mouthful of eggs - before Connor turned to fully face Diana, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. "We'll listen to what you have to say. You've already offered us more than that. Secrecy's a big deal for us, too."
Taking a deep breath, Diana sat up straight and began her explanation.
"I am a member of a very different government, one without a country, without a city. An electoral monarchy that operates outside of and cooperates with the governments of the countries we have even the slightest presence in. Currently, the largest concentration is here, in the United States. Historically, we've been mostly based in Russia and Romania, with some branches across Europe. We require our own laws for one significant reason. We're not human." Diana raised her hands, palms forward, as she noticed the brothers' eyes widening. "Hear me out. Our government is unique because many of our members are Moroi - living vampires, with the ability to manipulate elements, hypnotize the average human with a significant look, and a need to drink blood. But we don't kill.
"We are a unique race with a unique situation. There are two offshoot species from ourselves. The dhampir are a genetic mix of human and Moroi, unable to use the elements or glamour but more physically capable than most any human. Then there are the Strigoi. They are the image you would normally associate with vampires - the transition to Strigoi removes all of moral inhibitions, all emotions except for rage, and most importantly, all connection to the elements. A Strigoi is no longer a part of life. They exist outside of it, and are thus abominations. Unfortunately, Strigoi are not limited to beginning their existence as Moroi. Both humans and dhampir can also become Strigoi. But for Moroi...we must be careful, for if a Moroi drinks a person's blood to the point of their death, we simply become.
"But there are more ways for a Moroi to be immoral than to become Strigoi." Diana smiled then. "You remember the first big strike you made, against the Russians?" When both of the brothers nodded, she said, "Three of those men were Moroi. One was dhampir. All of them were heavily involved in human trafficking, and at least two of the Moroi had committed murder. Not with their fangs, but with guns. We had to make sure that the United States government kept their word to our queen, that they would maintain our secrets. We cannot afford just anyone knowing what we are."
"So why trust us?" Murphy said.
"I was about to get to that," Diana assured. "Queen Vasilisa Sabina Rhea Dragomir has authorized me specifically to begin something new. Bringing ordinary humans whose ideals align with ours into the small defense organization I belong to - Valor. There are only about twenty of us, in total. Twelve Moroi, eight dhampir. We are an unusual organization because the Moroi members are active combatants against these evils that we face in our lives." She shrugged, leaning to pick up her ice cream again and dig her spoon in. "I got the green light and you were the first people I thought of."
"Why?" Connor asked. "Why us? I'm sure there are people -"
"There's no one that fits the ideals of our organization that I could think of that also have the skills to back it up and aren't presently connected to human law enforcement. I'm sure you can see why we can't recruit a detective or a beat cop."
Connor nodded. "Still...you're asking us to believe in magic." Murphy reached a hand out and smacked his brother on the shoulder - hard. "What?"
"We've been working with a calling," Murphy confessed. "We didn't choose to do this. It just kinda...fell into our laps, if you will."
Diana nodded, taking a spoonful of ice cream and letting it melt on her tongue before swallowing. Then she gave a smile and said, "Okay. Would you like a demonstration?"
Connor nodded eagerly, finally starting to tear into the food she'd brought. Meanwhile, Murphy'd finished his, and turned to face the younger woman. A decision he regretted a moment later as she raised her open left hand, palm facing towards the brothers, and flames engulfed her entire hand from the wrist up. She wiggled her fingers and twisted her hand, casting dancing shadows upon the walls before it ceased and she returned her uninjured hand to her spoon, digging for another bite.
"What the fuck?!" Murphy gagged as the shock faded. "That...that was..."
"I'm a wielder of the element of fire," Diana shrugged, sticking her laden spoon back into her mouth.
"Holy shit."
Diana swallowed. "I know. Imagine being twelve years old and accidentally setting your roommate's bed on fire. Anichka didn't talk to me for three months after that. Then she began displaying her own talent - earth - and broke my ankle by using it to interfering with a footrace."
The trio sat in silence, the brothers absorbing the knowledge that Diana had offered them while she finished off her ice cream, for several minutes. Then, Diana stood. "I'll take the trays," she said, gathering the packages from the small dining table and transferring them to a trash bin, along with her empty ice cream container. "Now. If you two will pardon me, I need to go do something that's technically not the most moral and head to the club. It's been a day since I've fed, and you don't want to see me on the second day without a feeding."