Blood Judgment (Judgment Series) (3 page)

Enough light from an outside lamp filtered through the dirt-crusted windows for him to see his surroundings. Haphazard stacks of discarded boxes, scattered skids, and trash attested to a building long devoid of use.

When he was able, he struggled to his feet and headed for what looked like an office. The door opened onto a tiny, stale-smelling cubbyhole with ratty orange carpeting and nothing else.

He stepped inside and closed the door. Darkness enveloped him. Feeling for the lock, he flipped it and eased down on the floor.

Cold, shivering, and hurting, he pulled his jacket tighter and stared into black nothingness. The total darkness unnerved him. The unknown past, present, and future ate at him like crows picking his guts.

He couldn’t be part vampire. It wasn’t possible. Fear, anger, and confusion tore through him. He found the inside pocket of his jacket where his hand closed on a tiny knife.

Moving slowly, he managed to free himself from the remaining shreds of his expensive jacket. With shaking fingers, he unbuttoned the cuffs of his ruined shirt and rolled up the sleeves, exposing forearms bearing countless scars.

A flicker of shame ignited, but it wasn’t enough to stop him. He’d gained more than a music education at Juilliard. He’d learned how to cope. He’d learned a knife brought relief from gut-twisting guilt, relief from anguish and loneliness, and relief from the stress of constant competition.

Right now, he needed relief.

He opened the blade, placed it on the inside of his arm and dragged it downward. He didn’t need light to sense blood welling in a long, thin line. He made another cut and another, until everything faded and blessed relief spread through him like a drug.

Unlike the other pain in his body, this was sweet, healing pain. Something within his control. Something he needed. Something to help him stay sane.

JULIAN JERKED awake and lurched upright. Guts churning, clammy sweat slicked his fevered skin. Sure he was going to be sick, he rolled to his knees and folded his arms over his stomach.

Agony slashed through him. He moaned and held himself against the pain. A second wave hit and didn’t relent. His stomach convulsed and vomit spewed from his gaping mouth. The retching continued for long awful moments until he was empty and weak.

Shaking, he crawled away from the stinking mess and collapsed, writhing helplessly as pain cut through him.

Time skewed. He didn’t know if the agony lasted one hour or a dozen. Even his mouth hurt. He pressed on his gums. The pain increased and something shifted under his fingers. He snatched his hand away.

When the ache eased, he touched his canines which were now slightly elongated and sharp. He stroked his tongue over them.

Oh, fuck
.

Shudders racked his body, but the pain lessened and that was worse.

Because now he knew.

Now the vampires’ hate-filled stares made sense. Ignorance was no excuse in their world.

But, oh God, he wanted that ignorance back. He wanted what those four thieving bastards had stolen from him.

No longer welcome among humans, he had no idea how to survive among vampires.

Or even if he could.

Chapter Two

JULIAN AWOKE to the music of Seattle’s nightlife. Blinking in the darkness, he marveled at his visual acuity. He knew instinctively that he’d slept at least twenty hours. Same as he knew the sun had recently set, freeing him from the restrictions of daylight.

Reality kicked him in the guts. For the first time in his life, he was at a complete loss. Now he was on the outside looking in. He would never again be allowed into the world that had been his for the taking. He would never perform with the symphony again. He would never have the chance to reach for stardom. Everything was gone.

His chest ached. His stomach ached. The loss was staggering. And there was nothing he could do about it.

Worse, he no longer knew who he was. He was now the thing he’d looked down upon. The thing he’d thought himself to be above. Insides squirming, he swallowed hard.

The old Julian—as he now thought of his past self—was still there, trapped inside the body of a vampire. Other than the physical changes, he was the exact same. How was that possible?

He sat up and groaned when his body responded with a mass of aches and pains. He touched his jaw and prodded his ribs. The pain had lessened and the swelling in his face had receded, but he was a long way from normal.

Normal? What was that?

Injuries weren’t his biggest problem, though. Hunger clawed his insides with razor-sharp nails. He wasn’t jonesing for a beer and slice of pizza either.

He needed blood.

His stomach turned over in revulsion even though saliva filled his mouth at the thought of the crimson liquid sliding down his throat.

Needing blood led to another problem. It was no secret that vampires relied on feeding partners or willing human donors. Without one of those, he was fucked. Hunting humans was a capital crime. If he attacked a human and got caught, his life as a vampire would be over before it began.

His mind wanted to reject all of it. He didn’t even know where to start sorting things out.

Pain knifed his stomach again, spurring him to move. He left his lair through the window he’d used to break in, landing in a graceless crouch.

With amazement, he drank in the night. Colors dazzled his eyes. Detail stood out on every object. Strange, unidentifiable scents assailed him. A breeze caressed his skin with a touch he wouldn’t have noticed before. The tiniest sounds were clear and distinct. For several minutes, he stood in awe.

Then he moved.

He raced through alleys, avoiding humans and the temptation flowing in their veins. Colors bled and ran together in a kaleidoscope of images. The night had beauty and, despite savage hunger, he’d never felt more alive. And it terrified him.

He had awakened.

When he reached the Chandler Building, he paused with uncertainty. Above the lobby doors, a discrete sign read,
No Vampires Permitted For Any Reason
. Yeah, that meant him. His hands curled into tight fists.

The Chandler Building wasn’t the only place he’d be unwelcome. Most businesses and housing properties in the Restricted Zone refused vampires.

Fuck it.

He slid inside and made for the elevator, thankful for the empty lobby. A moment later, he arrived on the tenth floor where the doors slid open to a quiet hallway.

His shoes whispered over blue-gray carpet to the apartment at the end of the hall. He let himself in and locked the door.

Old coffee and cooking oil permeated the air and sent his stomach into a nasty roll.

Everything looked the same and should have comforted him. But the sameness was an illusion. His life had shattered into a billion fragments and the next hour or so would determine the course of his new existence.

He had to clean up and make himself appear as normal as possible. And he had to prepare for the worst.

Expecting Tommy to accept what he’d become, what he’d always been, was asking a lot. Tommy wasn’t that strong.

He hurried to his bedroom and stuffed clothes into a duffle bag. He checked his wallet. The plastic was still there. Visa card. Almost maxed out. ATM card. Less than five hundred dollars in the bank. No green. The bastards had stolen all the cash.

He went to the closet and pulled out a worn violin case. He hadn’t played the instrument since he’d graduated from Juilliard and bought the old Italian violin Indigo had destroyed. It was a nice enough violin, though. And sure as hell better than nothing. He laid the case on the bed.

Glancing about the room, he decided he had everything he needed. He had to be ready to travel light. Just in case.

He grabbed clean clothes and his wallet, but before heading for the bathroom, he took the duffle bag and violin case into the living room. He had to be prepared, which meant being ready for eviction.

AFTER A quick shower, Julian stood before the bathroom mirror. His hands clenched into fists that he planted on the vanity. He tried to force calm on himself and failed. He opened a drawer and snatched out a handful of small silver hoops. Despite his effort to stop it, his hands shook as he stabbed the hoops into the holes in his ears, nine each. The earrings and the barbed wire tats circling his biceps were more badges of his conflicted youth.

He flashed a toothy, humorless grin at his reflection. Reality was an ironic bitch. Every vampire movie he’d ever seen portrayed them with retractable teeth. No such luck. The damn things were always on display. No nice tricks to make blending in easier.

Nothing was going to be easy from here on.

He wanted to pray, to beg God to help him, but he wouldn’t do it. If God existed, He didn’t care about a vampire.

He had to help himself. And he would.

The apartment door opened. Closed.

His stomach plummeted.

Tommy was home from the symphony.

The moisture in his mouth evaporated. He tried to swallow and steeled himself. Other than burying his mother, facing Tommy topped the list of things that sucked the root.

Regardless, there was no putting it off. With his heart beating a too-fast tempo, he slipped into the living room where Tommy was going through the mail.

He glanced up and shock flashed over his face. “My God, what happened to you? Who did that?”

Julian touched his cheek.

Tommy straightened. “What’s wrong?”

His best friend knew him way too well. Besides the physical beating, Tommy knew something was out of whack with him. “I…”

Tommy’s face drained to a pasty color. “What the fuck?” He backed up a step.

Oh, shit
. Julian didn’t move.

“What the fuck?” Tommy backed farther away.

Julian’s stomach lurched. “I—”

Tommy held his hands up like a shield. “Stay the fuck away.”

“What?” Julian sputtered.

Tommy went another shade of pale. “A fucking vampire. Jesus fucking Christ.”

“I swear to God, I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have done that to you.”

The loss of Tommy’s sister to a vampire yawned between them, the Grand Canyon of hatred and distrust.

“You’ve got a hell of a nerve, pretending to be human. Pretending to be my
friend
.” The last word came out in a screech.

Julian felt sick to his stomach. “I never pretended anything. You’re my best friend. That’s real.”

“Those teeth are real.” Tommy’s eyes glittered. “You’re one of
them
.” Scorn dripped from his voice. “A no good, baby stealing, murderer.”

Julian shook his head. A sensation like a wadded up sock jammed down his throat cut off his ability to breathe. “No. You know me better than that.”

Tommy laughed. He sounded on the verge of hysterics. “Apparently not.”

Julian tried to drag air into his burning lungs. “I’m still the same inside.” It came out in a panicked rush, an octave too high. “I got jumped in an alley. They did this to me.”

The scent of fear clogged Julian’s senses and his insides clenched. “I’m still me.” It sounded pathetic and unconvincing to him.

“Yeah, except for the desire to drink blood and kill people.”

“No! I don’t want to hurt anyone.” His heart pounded his chest so hard that he felt lightheaded. How could this be happening? “You know me. We’ve been friends for years. Tommy, I swear to God, you don’t have to be afraid.”

“You think I’d believe a word any goddamned vampire said? You know me better than that.”

“Please—”

“Shut the fuck up. You’re vermin and you can’t be trusted.” His face contorted into a grimace of disgust. “Get the fuck out of here. Right now, before I call the authorities on you.”

Shaking, his insides twisting into a sick knot, Julian held his ground. “I don’t have anywhere else to go. This is my home too.”

The fear stink intensified around Tommy.

Julian salivated.

Tommy straightened. “Get out! Get the fuck out of here.” Something ugly and malicious settled over his face. “I hope you end up at a hunt club or in a dog ring. That’s all your kind is good for.”

Julian stumbled back, off balance as if Tommy had struck him. That his best friend would wish him killed for sport or entertainment, or whatever the bastards wanted to call it, destroyed something inside him.

He felt it die.

Tommy yanked his cell phone from his pocket. “Get out right now or I’ll report you, so fucking help me God. And I won’t care about what happens to you.”

Ice coursed through Julian’s veins. The urge to take what he desperately needed hit him with stunning force. A metallic taste coated his mouth and he dropped into a crouch.

His gaze fastened on Tommy’s throat. Growling, he curled his lip off his fangs.

The little remaining color in Tommy’s face fell out. He backpedaled across the living room.

Tommy’s fear scent flooded Julian’s senses, awakening something dark and primal in him. Tension knotted his muscles and he waited for Tommy to run. He would kill him before he made it to the door. He would drink him into a husk. He would—

He clenched his fists and fought for control, forcing himself to remain still when every instinct urged him to kill. He backed away. He had to get out of the apartment before he ripped his friend’s throat out and drank him dry.

Heart hammering, he struggled to curb his basic instincts. He wouldn’t take the life of someone he’d cared for like a brother. No matter what. He wasn’t—wouldn’t be—a monster.

He wheeled around, snatched up the duffel bag and violin case, and raced for the door.

Chapter Three

SARANNA STARED in shocked disbelief. A man fondled her cousin’s balls with one hand and slid money to him with the other.

She squeezed into a dark recess between two tightly wedged buildings as Vali submitted to the intimate pawing at his genitals.

Moisture stung her eyes. How had this happened?

God, she had to get him off the streets. Dread twisted her belly. He wouldn’t want any of them to know about something like this.