Blood Candy (18 page)

“They saved me,” Candy said. “Tinch did. He
introduced me to them.”

“Tinch,” Anastasia said with a touch of
fondness. “One of the wiser wolves I’ve come across. He may be hard
on the outside, but he’s soft in the middle. He’s always concerned
with the best interest of others.”

“I wasn’t aware you know him.”

Anastasia smiled. “Keep your friends close and
your enemies closer. It pays in large dividends to know everything
and everyone in the supernatural world.”

“You consider him an enemy?”

“Old feuds.” Anastasia shrugged. “I’m not in
the business of making enemies, my dear. I’m a vampire and he’s a
wolf. Some people have a hard time letting go of the past, even
when that past stretches hundreds of years and no one remembers
what the quarrel was about in the first place.”

“We’re a peaceable family,” Blake interjected.
“It’s in our best interest to have good relationships with mortals,
lycans, and vampire families alike. We refrain from drinking human
blood because we want to break the old molds and change the way the
world works.”

“My son is very wise for his age. ‘Make love,
not war’ has been my motto for a long time.”

Candy didn’t really care about whatever point
Anastasia was trying to make and she wanted nothing more than to
turn her attention out a window rather than have to hold the
vampire girl’s pale-eyed gaze. The longer she sat in the car with
the vampire girl, the more uncomfortable she became, until it felt
like she was freezing.

“I should warn you,” Anastasia said. “They
will ask you some personal questions. Keep calm and answer only
what they ask. Don’t elaborate and keep it to a simple ‘yes’ or
‘no.’ I’ll do most of the talking, and remember what we discussed.
You and Blake have been madly in love for months, and you have
accepted his request to be bound to him.”

Candy nodded. She hoped they wouldn’t ask
anything she might stumble over.

“It won’t be that bad,” Anastasia said, as if
she could read the worry on Candy’s face. “They may ask where you
and Blake met each other; if they do, say at a local club. Those
places crawl with vampires and no one will think twice about
it.”

“What do you mean about being bound?” Candy
asked her.

Anastasia appraised Candy for a moment before
she answered. “I suppose you should know. These things aren’t told
to mortals unless they will be bound to a vampire or family, but
you’re a unique case. Simply put, being bound to Blake is akin to
being married to him. Just like in a marriage you swear to have
relations only with him, both the carnal nature as well as that of
the blood. The binding is generally complete when he takes your
blood for the first time. Like marriage, it’s an old and mostly
useless ritual, but it serves a purpose nonetheless.”

Candy wasn’t sure she understood. Blood bonds
and blood slaves, she didn’t understand and she didn’t like it.
When the car came to a stop, Anastasia must have seen her mix of
confusion and dread. She called for the driver to wait before
opening the back door.

“I don’t expect you to understand everything
I’ve said. To put it bluntly, vampires rarely fill in their mortal
companions with details because there’s no reason to. The only
thing you need to know to make this work is this: you love Blake
and you want to be with him. Understand?”

Candy nodded.

“Very good. We’re ready, Milford.”

The driver opened the back door. Anastasia
stepped out first, followed by Blake. He offered his hand to help
Candy like a gentleman. They were on the lower level of a parking
garage somewhere in the city. After a moment the SUV pulled in with
the Misfits. Not long after that, a red Ferrari with tinted windows
parked next to the town car. Chester stepped out, dressed in a blue
blazer and dark slacks.

“Glad to see everyone’s okay,” he said with a
nod to Candy. When he noticed Felicia, he gave her a smile and a
wink.

“Well hello,” Felicia said with a sideways
glance at the expensive car. The rest of the Misfits rolled their
eyes.

“Our guests are waiting,” Anastasia said in a
forceful tone that carried in the confined garage. “Lead the way,
Chester.”

With one last smile for Felicia, Chester made
his way over to a metal door imbedded in the concrete wall. He held
the door open, waiting until everyone had passed through, his eyes
lingering on Felicia the whole time. A long corridor bright with
strip lights opened out beyond the door. It sloped downward at a
slight angle with pipes and ducts running its length. Candy felt
like she was in a tomb.

“Where are we?” she said.

“An old fallout shelter,” Blake answered at
her side. “We maintain it for uses such as this. It’s neutral
ground.”

Chester led the group deeper down the
corridor, their footsteps echoing against the close walls. The
other end opened into a high ceilinged room made of bare concrete,
most of which lay within the confines of darkness. When Chester
turned to the right, Candy noticed three men standing around a
conference table. One of them was Nigel, another Rupert, and the
last a tall man with bleach blond hair wearing a black greatcoat
with gold buttons on the lapels.

“Here they are,” Nigel said. He took a few
steps towards the Mullins and Misfits, and then with a sweep of his
arm invited them all over to the table. “My dear Anastasia. Have
you been introduced to Hayden Kingsley?”

Upon Nigel’s introduction, the man with the
blond hair came around from the table to give Anastasia a gracious
half bow. He was eerily pale and had several silver rings on both
of his hands, some etched with insignias. Anastasia gave a slight
nod of her head.

“Of course we’ve been introduced,” Hayden said
in a forced American accent that didn’t sound quite right. “A
pleasure as always, Miss Mullin.”

“Lord Kingsley.” Anastasia didn’t give him a
second more of her attention. She turned her eyes to Rupert. “I
don’t believe I’ve been formally introduced to your
brother.”

“Please, call me Hayden. The rightful Lord
Kingsley is currently predisposed.” He snapped his fingers and
Rupert came quickly to his side, not bothering to hide his contempt
for Blake and the Misfits along the way.

“This is Rupert. Pride of our father’s eye,”
Hayden said.

“My pleasure,” Rupert said with a fake
smile.

“Yes, it is your pleasure,” Anastasia
said.

Rupert tried to awkwardly sustain a smile, but
his face slowly hardened into a scowl.

“This is my son Blake and his mortal love,
Candy,” Anastasia said. “The others are friends of the family and
material witnesses.”

Rupert’s lip twitched. Hayden looked Candy
over with a wry grin and then he went to the far side of the table
to take a seat. Rupert sneered first at Blake and then at Jimmy
before he joined his brother. Anastasia, Chester, and Blake took
seats across from the Englishmen. There was nowhere else for the
Misfits to go other than the end of the table.

“Jolly good,” Nigel said. “Now that we’re all
familiar with each other, allow me to introduce the Magister of New
England, who will be presiding tonight.”

A man stepped out from the shadows as if he
and the inky darkness had been one. The man was tall and pale with
long black hair, dark eyes and a prominent nose. He took slow steps
to the head chair, his depthless eyes passing over each individual
in turn. Candy couldn’t discern his apparent age because, like all
of the vampires she had encountered, he exuded an unnatural youth.
Though he was tall and built like a man who had done long years of
hard labor, his skin was smooth and unmarred.

“Magister Fernando Fedora,” Nigel said. “As
Magister of New England and a neutral party, he will mediate the
grievances of the Mullin and Kingsley families. His judgment will
be final and fully binding.”

“Magister,” Hayden said, his head and eyes
lowered.

Anastasia kept her eyes on Fernando. “El
Capitan,” she said with a nod.

The Magister smiled. His voice was deep and
sensual, marked with a Spanish or Portuguese accent. “I haven’t
been called that in a long time.”

“Lovely,” Nigel said. “I will present the item
of dispute between the families.” His eyes, along with most
everyone else’s, went to Candy. “Miss Candy Shuler. Would you rise
for the Magister, please?”

Candy slowly stood, feeling stupid for having
worn the shirt with the huge face of a cartoon mouse on the front.
She kept her head bowed under the pressure of Magister Fedora’s
eyes. Blake took her hand beneath the table.

“You can have a seat now,” Nigel said.
“Magister, the table is yours.” He took a few steps back, crossed
his arms, and waited for the show to commence.

The Magister looked once more around the
table. No one was safe from the ferocity in his dark eyes before he
took his seat. Candy found herself looking down when he merely
passed his gaze over her.

“I’ll hear from you first, Miss Mullin,” the
Magister said. “It’s my understanding both families have made a
claim on the girl in question. Tell me about it.”

“It’s simple,” Anastasia said with a glance at
the Englishmen. “The mortal belongs to my son. They are in love and
he has claimed her.”

“That’s a lie!” Rupert burst out, drawing the
ire of both the Magister and Hayden. Magister Fedora’s harsh eyes
demanded respect from everyone at the table quite effectively on
their own without need of a single spoken word. Rupert lowered his
head in submission, if not from unabated fear.

Anastasia continued, “As I was saying. My son
and Candy have been in love for some time now. Rupert made a
mistake, and should he confess to his mistake my family will not
bring further grievances against him.”

Rupert clenched his fists. The Magister turned
his attention to the Englishmen.

“I’ll hear your side now.”

Hayden smirked across the table at Anastasia
before addressing the Magister.

“It’s not as simple as the lovely Anastasia
would like it to sound. My brother came upon the mortal in question
on her own, and I stress that she was unmarked and thus unclaimed.
It’s my belief the Mullin family has been colluding with the so
called witnesses to claim the girl as their own. Their whole story
is a laughable fabrication.”

The Magister knocked a gavel on the table.
“Who are these witnesses?” he said with a perturbed glance over at
the Misfits. They slinked down a little in their chairs. Jimmy
cleared his throat and stood up.

“My name’s Jimmy. I was there, uh, the night
in question.”

“What night in question?” the Magister
grumbled. “All I want to know is who you mortals are.”

“We’re the Misfits. We . . . I was there the
night in question.”

“Enough about the night in question. What are
‘misfits’?”

Perplexed, Jimmy said, “That’s who we are. The
Misfits.”

The Magister gave Anastasia a disturbed
glance. “These people are friends of your family? They look like a
gang of clowns who lack the mental capacity to answer a simple
question. This is the type with whom your family
consorts?”

“The company my family keeps has no bearing on
the matter at hand,” Anastasia said, a little agitated, and
seemingly the only person in the room who didn’t cow beneath the
presence of the Magister. “He’s a witness to what happened not only
on the night when Rupert first tried to forcefully take Candy, but
on several other occasions of his stalking as well.”

“Someone tell me about the night,” the
Magister said, short on patience.

The Mullins looked to Candy. She swallowed her
fear and tried to find the courage to talk in front of all the
vampires. It took a few attempts to finally get her mouth
working.

“He attacked me,” she said. “He charmed me and
made me do things against my will.”

“This is nonsense,” Hayden said in a calm
tone. “She’s clearly been coached into saying this. My brother
didn’t charm her.”

Magister Fedora’s eyes burned into Candy.
“That’s a serious accusation. A public display of glamour is a
serious crime. Are you sure that’s what happened? Are you sure you
want to keep that statement on the record?”

Beneath the intensity of his gaze, Candy
thought perhaps she should say no and call this whole thing off.
She found the courage to nod. The Magister watched her for a long
time, making her even more uncomfortable. She wondered, as he
continued watching her with narrowed eyes, if he was using some
kind of vampire power, some way to descry the truth from her very
soul. Finally, he turned to the Misfits and glowered at them in the
same way.

“I cannot discern the truth to these
statements and as such I have no choice but to take the word of a
vampire over that of confused mortals. The right to claim is given
to he who first takes the blood. When was this first
done?”

“Last night,” Anastasia said, though she
wasn’t pleased to make the confession.