The Chaos Order (Fanghunters Book Three) by Leo Romero

hoisted himself up to his feet with a groan. He then dusted off his long, leather jacket, smoothed down his long, greasy hair and faced them. “I’m starving,” he declared.
    “Thought you might be,” Trixie said, throwing him a burger from the bag in her bandaged hand. Troy caught it; his eyes lit up. He threw off the wrapping with the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas Day. He began chomping away with greedy bites, hot, guttural sounds escaping him like he was a rabid dog. He gulped down a barely chewed piece of burger. “Oh, that tastes great! Got any soda?”
    Trixie rolled her eyes as she handed him a soda. Troy popped the lid off and drank deep, soda spilling down his cheeks. Trixie’s top lip turned up in disgust.
    Troy stopped guzzling soda for a second, belched, and then gasped in satisfaction. “Man, that feels better!” He stuffed the remainder of his burger into his mouth and gave it a couple of chews. He swallowed the huge morsel, wincing as it eased down his gullet. He washed it down with the rest of his soda and belched again. He threw the empty soda cup to the side and let out a contented pant. “OK,” he said, dusting his hands, “so what now?”
    “Know anything about the Chaos Order?” Trixie asked him, getting straight down to business.
    “Ugh, Latinos!” Troy retorted, his nose turned up. “I try my best to avoid drug cartels. They’re bad for your health.”
    Trixie nodded. “Yeah, you prefer your vampiric mass murderers to be little old banker types, huh?”
    Troy shrugged. “At least they’re predictable. Those other cats are called the Chaos Order for a reason y’know.”
    “No, I don’t know. Enlighten me.”
    Troy shook his hands on the air. “There’s an inner circle of vampire dons who’ve got control over the cartels. It’s all cocaine and crystal meth with a little marijuana thrown into the mix for good measure.” He glanced up at them with wide eyes. “Hey, actually, I might not be so adverse to them after all.”
    Trixie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I bet.”
    Troy shrugged.
    “Tell us more about this Inner Circle,” said Dom.
    “It breaks down like this: every Latin American country involved in drug trafficking has its own don, who acts like a kind of regional manager. The dons make up the Inner Circle. They oversee the cartels within their regional jurisdiction; so the Mexican don oversees the cartels in Mexico, the Venezuelan don oversees those in Venezuela and so on. Some regions might have only one cartel, some as many as five. The head of each major cartel is made vamp, but only one cartel boss from each region is chosen to move up into the Inner Circle. Any other cartel leader vamps answer to their respective regional manager, but cannot ever be part of the Inner Circle. With me so far?”
    “Yeah,” Dom said, while shaking his head.
    “Yes, Troy, we follow,” Trixie said.
    “Good. Thought for a moment Einstein here wasn’t quite following.”
    “Hey—” Dom began.
    “Just leave it, Dom,” said Trixie, her eyes closed. “Carry on, Troy.”
    “No problem. So, the head vamp of each cartel then has his human lieutenants, but these strictly mustn’t turn or it’s,” he ran a hand across his throat. “Those Inner Circle vamps don’t like the idea of vamps spreading, so it’s all gotta be kept tight. Then below the lieutenants are the sergeants and then the street soldiers come in last; your everyday neighborhood gangbanger, or cannon fodder depending on your viewpoint.”
    Trixie shook her head. “For an order that describes itself as chaotic, it’s pretty well organized.”
    “Sorry to burst your bubble, Trixie,” began Troy, “but it’s nothing but a giant clusterfrack where you could get your head chopped off for being the wrong color.” He let out a disappointed sigh. “At least with the Blood Order we knew where we stood. They kept everyone in line with financial enslavement. The Chaos Order is much more in your face. And that’s