Blood and Sand (2 page)

He nodded. “Make sure my office is clear and show him in as soon as he arrives. What time is it?”

“Eleven.”

He stretched his neck to the side in a completely habitual gesture. He didn’t need to stretch any more than he needed to drink the water in front of him. Still, those little signals all put the humans around him at ease. “Wonderful. It’s busy tonight.”

“Back to school, Boss.” Luis grinned. “A fresh crop of newly legal eye candy.”

He often forgot how young Luis was. The human was only twenty-five, the son of one of Ernesto’s longtime human employees. The don of Los Angeles was nothing if not loyal. He kept the fealty of his human servants for generations, which had served him well in the rapidly changing atmosphere of Southern California.

“Get back to work being charming, Luis. And keep an eye on the new bartender. I think he’s pouring a little heavy for the more attractive female patrons.”

Like the redhead in the black dress who was definitely not a co-ed.

As soon as Luis had mentioned red hair, his eyes had searched for her. From his perch in the corner, Baojia could observe three of the four doors in the club. A monitor in the corner watched the other. He could see the bar, and the mirror behind it let him see each and every movement of the humans tending it. The DJ’s booth was elevated and also monitored by a camera that fed into a small screen he could see from his seat.
 

The dance floor took up most of the main level, lined by booths that were reservation only. The VIP area in the balcony was even more exclusive.
Boca
had become the premiere nightclub in downtown San Diego, and Baojia had remodeled it with security in mind. If he had to be stuck in a tiny corner of his sire’s kingdom, that corner would be the most secure in Ernesto’s territories.
 

Baojia stood at the balcony and watched the redhead, who was sipping a clear cocktail with two limes. Her hair was a tumble of red waves; very attractive, he had to admit. Her pale shoulders were bare, but the rest of her dress hugged her curves. She was of medium height and had an athletic build. Not slight and girlish like the children on the dance floor. She was around thirty in human years if he had to guess. She stood out for that alone. Her dress and makeup fit the club; the intelligent eyes that scanned the room and ignored the males surrounding her did not.

Natalie Ellis.

He didn’t know her, but she was intre tshe wasiguing. She’d asked for him, specifically? He’d have to ask Luis. Very few humans knew his name.

Who are you, Natalie Ellis?
He narrowed his gaze as she checked her mobile phone, punched something in, then slipped it back in her purse. It was a large purse, the kind a professional woman carried, not a girl out clubbing. Right dress. Right jewelry and makeup. Wrong purse.

“You’re a pretty liar, aren’t you?” he murmured, his hands hanging in the pockets of his perfectly tailored black suit. Baojia abhorred ill-fitting clothes. “And how do you know my name?”

He saw Luis approach and touch the woman’s shoulder. She turned, her polite smile slowly turning down. She was annoyed. Her eyes flicked up to the balcony and met his. He cocked his head as they held. Curious. Most humans wouldn’t hold his gaze for long; some instinct always told them to look away from the predator. Not her. Her eyes kept right on his. Challenging. Tempting.

Very curious.

She kept watching him as she reached back and grabbed her cocktail. She tilted the glass up, and her throat undulated as she swallowed, the pale skin glowing in the red lights of the club. Never taking her eyes off him, she finished her drink and set the glass down, then finally turned back to Luis. She reached in her too-large purse, handed Luis a card, then stood. Baojia watched her until she left through the crowded front doors. Then he turned and sat down again, pulling out the report about the casino in the desert near El Centro.

Baojia stifled the groan when he opened the file and saw the first column of numbers that filled it.

He had to get back to LA.

Rory McNair was already sitting in a chair and drinking a glass of blood in his office when Baojia escaped the still-lively club at two. His sister Paula’s husband was a casual man. He and Baojia had been turned within twenty years of each other and always had a good relationship, though Rory’s allegiance was to Paula first. The two had been mated for over one hundred years. Of all Ernesto’s children, it was Paula, Rory, and Baojia whom their
father trusted most. Well, until the Chinese disaster, as Rory referred to it.

“How you doing, brother?”

Baojia shrugged. “I’m bored. Watching college kids and redecorating nightclubs gets old. How are you?”

“Overworked and living with an annoyed wife.” Rory’s grey mustache twitched. “How did you manage all this shit and still have a life?”

Since Baojia had been exiled, the majority of the security for Ernesto’s large territory had fallen to Rory’s hands. Paula was the businesswoman. Baojia had been the security. Rory was mostly a man of leisure, so the sudden weight of responsibility for a region stretching from Northern Mexico to Central California was not a welcome addition to his life.

“I
didn’t
have a life, remember?” He smiled. “I suppose I should be grateful for the vacation, but I just find myself obsessing over all the problems that could be cropping up in my absence.” He raised a quick hand. “Not that I don’t trust you. I just know that it’s a lot. Have there been any more problems in the mountains?”

“Nothing much.” Rory twisted the tip of his mustache and leaned back in his chair, blood forgotten. “They’re still growin’ up there, but the gang activity has been contained.” Marijuana production in the Southern California mountains was hardly something Ernesto usually worried about, but the infiltration of gangs from Northern Mexico was. It was not uncommon for other vets for otampire leaders to send in criminal gangs they controlled to test the resolve of their neighbors. Problems out of the ordinary had to be dealt with swiftly and decisively in order to maintain a leader’s position and authority. Baojia worried that Rory wasn’t taking it seriously enough.

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

Rory snorted. “From San Diego?”

Baojia ignored the sting. It wasn’t intentional and it was hardly something Rory could help. Until Ernesto decided to let him out of his virtual prison, he was stuck.

“Sorry.” His brother looked contrite. “You got the casino numbers?”

“Yes.” He pulled out the file. “I’m warning you, everything appears to be in order.”

Rory’s eyes twinkled. “Not a single head we can crack for missing money or booze?”

“Sadly not,” he said with a smile. “But the employee pension fund needs a new manager.”

“Embezzlement?”

“Retirement.”

“Damn.”

By three in the morning, Rory was gone and Baojia was leaving the club. Luis would take care of the few after-hours patrons they entertained so Baojia could return to the home he had secured on Coronado Island, a few steps from the beach. It was a modern house with exactly the right number of windows and a very secure location. His driver dropped him off before dawn and returned at nightfall. Was it his comfortable warehouse in downtown LA? No, but it was modern and had a good area to train, so he was as content as he could be. He was just about to step into his car when he heard the voice.

“Are you Baojia?”

He smiled, somehow knowing it was Natalie Ellis before he turned. “Where did you hear that name?”

“Took me a while to figure it out once I saw it written,” she mused, stepping closer. “
Bow
—like the bow of a ship,
jeeah
. It’s cool. Chinese?”

“Perhaps.” Baojia spun around and regarded her. “Where did you hear it?”

“Does it matter?”

“Very much so.” He noticed that she had taken off the heels she’d been wearing and put on a pair of thin, black shoes, but her dress and makeup were the same. “You brought the wrong purse, Ms. Ellis.”

“How—?” She frowned before raising the very practical black handbag. “I guess you see a lot of college kids, huh? Not the usual?”

“You stood out. That’s not a bad thing. Where did you hear that name?”

She stepped closer. “Did your errand boy give you my card?”

“No. And I wouldn’t let him hear you call him an errand boy.”

Her lips wore a slight smile. “But he is.”

Baojia stepped closer. “We like to allow children their illusions, don’t we?”

Her eyes were blue. A clear blue that reminded him of old memories of the sky reflecting on the water. She was a creature made for sunlight—a dusting of freckles covered her nose and dotted her shoulders. Though her skin was pale, it was flushed with life. The unexpected curl of arousal surprised him. Human women rarely held his interest.

“Listen, I don’t want to waste your time. I’m looking for Baojia because someone told me he could help me with a story I’m writing.”

“Oh? You’re a writer?” In his experience, humans usually abhorred silence and woerelence auld fill it with useful information, given the chance. One rarely had to question them. Just remain silent and they would tell you what you needed to know.

“Yes.” The woman remained silent, too. One hand was placed on her hip and the other clutched her too-large purse. He couldn’t stop the smile. Apparently, they shared the same sentiments about silence. Finally, he shrugged and turned away.
 

“I’m sorry, Ms. Ellis. I can’t help you.”

“You
are
Baojia, aren’t you?” She was persistent; he’d give her that. “If you won’t help me, I guess I’ll have to go talk to Ivan myself.”

He spun so fast her eyes swam.

“Hey, how did you—”

Within seconds, Baojia had her tucked in the back of his sedan and told his driver to circle the block. Closing the privacy screen, he held her hand and watched her. She was completely out, rendered unconscious by the shock of his energy. He tried not to curse at his clumsy handling of the situation, but the sound of the other immortal’s name on her lips had startled him. What did this soft sunshine girl want with Ivan? And how the hell did she know to come to him for an introduction? She clearly did not know about their kind judging from her reaction to his speed.

“Ms. Ellis?” Still holding her hand, he called her name softly to rouse her. He lessened the electrical current that ran over his skin and onto hers. “Natalie?”

“Hmm?” Her eyes blinked open but still swam with confusion. “Where am I?”

“In my car. I’ll make sure you get home safely. Where did you hear the name Baojia, Natalie? Who gave it to you?” His amnis eased into her mind, loosening her tongue. At this level of influence, she would tell him anything he wanted.

“Dez did, silly.” She sounded drunk, her cerebral cortex awash in amnis. “You know, Desiree Riley… Well, Desiree Kirby now. I think she changed her name when she married Matt.”

“Desiree Riley?” Beatrice De Novo’s best friend was also the wife of Matt Kirby, who ran security and other sensitive assignments for the Italian fire vampire who had taken somewhat permanent residence in Southern California. Giovanni Vecchio was Beatrice De Novo’s husband and a wary ally of his sire’s. Desiree Riley was, to put it bluntly, a human who knew things. Also, a human who wouldn’t have given out his name without reason, from what he knew of her. “Why did Dez give you my name?”

“Badgered her.” Natalie laughed. “Poor thing. Kept at her until she cracked. It’s an important story, she knows that. Needed information. My editor…” The woman drifted off again and Baojia realized he had lost control of his amnis for a moment.

“Natalie?”

She was a lovely rumpled heap in the back of his car. Her red hair tumbled around her, falling into her face. Her nose wrinkled at the ticklish strands, causing Baojia to smile as he brushed it away.

“Need to talk to Ivan. Name keeps coming up.” Her forehead was wrinkled now. “So many gone. Can’t… can’t continue. ’S wrong, you know?”

“No.” He didn’t know. Didn’t know what she was talking about, but the mention of Ivan’s name was not something to be taken lightly. And there was no way this girl should be going to speak to the leader of Ensenada on her own. That was out of the question. He’d have to call Dez and investigate tomorrow night, but until then…

“Natalie,” he whispered.
 

“Yeah,” she whispered back.

“Where do you livname do yoe?”

She told him her address without question, along with a rather amusing anecdote about her neighbor Mr. Sanchez and his new Chihuahua. Finally, he had to interrupt.

“I’m going to take you home now. Forget about Ivan.”

She smiled mischievously. “I don’t forget anything, buddy.”

“You will this time. Trust me.” He pulled her up and she slumped against his side, her head rolling to the side. Her neck was bared to him, beckoning him despite his earlier meal. Baojia felt the pressure increase as his fangs pressed down and the earlier curl of arousal turned into a jolt. He wanted this woman. Eyeing her neck, he considered what he knew about her.

Natalie Ellis was a writer, a persistent one. She was also a friend of Dez’s, and possibly, Beatrice’s friend as well. Did she know them from school? He searched his memories of Beatrice’s time at university but could find no mention or memory of this woman. She seemed to be the right age to have been in grad school with Dez and Beatrice.